《My Mother is Medusa》


 Chapter 1

    My birth was never meant to be. Some call me a mistake. Others whisper that I am a prophecy.


    But my blood tells a different story.


    It burns with the cursed legacy of the Gorgon Queen herself¡ªMedusa.


    Yes, Medusa. Not a fallen monster. Not a slain creature in some tragic myth. But a Queen. A legend.


    Perseus? In this timeline, he failed. The stories lied.


    Before he could raise his blade, my mother shattered him. Because Medusa did not die in some hero¡¯s tale¡ªshe ascended. Beyond vengeance. Beyond fury. Beyond even divinity itself.


    No blade can pierce her hide. No magic can break her will. Not even Zeus, the almighty King of Olympus, dares to challenge her in her final form.


    And I¡­?


    I am her son.


    I do not yet wield her legendary petrifying gaze. My skin does not turn blades, and my blood does not yet hold the venom of death.


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    But I have something else.


    Paralyzing venom. A single touch. A single wound from my fangs¡ªyes, I have fangs, retractable and hidden¡ª and even the mightiest warrior becomes a prisoner in their own body. Helpless. Frozen. Forced to watch as time slips away. A mercy, compared to what my mother can do.


    But Olympus does not tolerate my existence.


    Zeus has summoned his champions. Athena, my mother¡¯s eternal nemesis, sharpens her blade once more. Hades watches from the depths of the Underworld, his motives veiled in shadow. Even Ares, the unyielding God of War, hesitates at a crossroads¡ª Should he strike me down, or claim me as his own?


    And me?


    I remember another life. A different existence. One of insignificance. I was no one. A man with an empty life, forgotten by the world. No one respected me. No one even greeted me with warmth. My presence was unnoticed, my existence barely acknowledged. I was invisible.


    But here? In this life? The mere mention of my mother¡¯s name makes the strongest warriors falter. They don¡¯t just avert their gazes in fear¡ªthey don¡¯t even dare meet my eyes when they speak. They bow their heads. They stammer their words. They tremble in the presence of my bloodline.


    I am no longer invisible. I am feared.


    But fear is a double-edged blade. Do I step away from the storm, live a quiet life, and ignore the weight of my lineage?


    Or do I embrace what the gods already believe I am? A monster. A ruler. A force beyond their control.


    The world watches. Olympus trembles.

 Chapter 2

    I never asked to be feared.


    Yet, the moment I walk into a room, conversations die. Eyes lower. Warriors¡ªmen who have slain monsters, who have battled Titans¡ªrefuse to meet my gaze. They whisper my name like a curse, an omen of misfortune.


    Not because of what I have done. But because of who my mother is.


    It should amuse me, but it doesn¡¯t. Instead, it reminds me of the life I had before¡ªwhen no one looked at me at all.


    In that life, I was invisible. Insignificant.


    Here, in this life, I am seen. But not as a man. Not even as a warrior. I am Medusa¡¯s son. A legacy of fear wrapped in mortal skin.


    I was content in the shadows, letting the world believe whatever it wanted about me. I had no quarrel with the gods, no desire to challenge Olympus. My mother asked nothing of me but to live, and I would have honored that wish.


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    But the gods? The gods will not allow me to exist in peace.


    They whisper of prophecies, omens that spell their downfall. They see me as the first step toward Medusa¡¯s revenge¡ªeven though she seeks none. It is their paranoia, their fear, that has made me their target.


    So they send their hunters.


    The first came at night. I barely saw his face before my venom took hold¡ªhis body frozen mid-strike, his blade inches from my throat. His eyes, wide with horror, stayed locked on mine long after the fight was over. A champion of Athena, reduced to a prisoner in his own flesh.


    I let him live. Maybe that was a mistake.


    Because after him, more came. Ares'' warriors. Apollo''s assassins. Even Hermes'' messengers, swift and cunning, tried their luck.


    Each time, they failed. Each time, I sent them back¡ªparalyzed, broken, but breathing.


    But if pawns fail, kings will rise. And when they fall? The Olympians themselves will come.


    I have spent my life trying to avoid this war. But the war has already found me.


    So the question is no longer if I will fight. The question is: when. And more importantly¡­


    Who will strike first?

 Chapter 3

    ¡°I want to go to the mortal lands. I want to live among them.¡±


    The words hung in the air like a curse.


    Silence fell over the room, save for the quiet hissing of my siblings.


    Yes, my siblings.


    I was not Medusa¡¯s only child.


    To my right stood my elder sister, Nyssa. Her dark, serpentine locks coiled and shifted with a life of their own, streaked with emerald-green highlights that gleamed like venom under torchlight. Her piercing golden eyes gleamed with a predatory sharpness. Her skin was flawless, yet beneath it, faint patterns of serpent scales shimmered under certain light, a testament to the power in her veins. Clad in a flowing obsidian chiton embroidered with gold, her every movement was a calculated display of grace and lethality. She was our mother¡¯s fiercest daughter, her fangs carrying the purest form of our blood¡¯s cursed venom¡ªDeath Venom.


    To my left, my younger brother, Krios. The middle child of Medusa¡¯s lineage. His rose-pink hair was wild and constantly shifting, untamed like the storm that fueled his soul. Unlike Nyssa, whose serpent scales remained hidden, Krios'' shimmered beneath his skin¡ªemerald-green and jagged, forming a natural armor that absorbed damage like a second skin. Though he lacked fangs or a tail, his piercing amber eyes carried a different kind of terror. If one met his gaze for too long, they would find their body betraying them¡ªfrozen in place by a power that had yet to fully awaken.


    Despite our differences, we were bound by the same truth¡ªwe were Medusa¡¯s children.


    Which meant¡­ we belonged nowhere.


    Nyssa blinked at me like I had just declared I wanted to wrestle a Hydra. "I''m sorry. What?"


    Krios, who rarely reacted to anything, slowly tilted his head. "Wait, is this a joke? Are we joking? Because I can laugh. Ha. Ha." His face remained completely deadpan.


    I sighed. "No, I¡¯m serious."


    Nyssa groaned and ran a clawed hand down her face. "Of course, you are. Because why wouldn¡¯t you be? Gods forbid we have a normal day where one of us doesn¡¯t decide to do something incredibly stupid."


    Krios pointed at me. "This is worse than when you tried to wrestle that Cyclops."


    "Hey, I almost won," I muttered.


    "You almost got thrown into the ocean," Nyssa corrected.


    Nyssa threw her hands in the air. "Okay, let¡¯s pretend for a second that you¡¯re not a complete idiot. What exactly do you plan to do in the mortal world? Walk into a village and say, ¡®Hello! My name is Raezel, son of Medusa! Please don¡¯t throw pitchforks at me¡¯?"


    Krios nodded sagely. "You do have a very pitchfork-able face."


    I glared at him. "What does that even mean?"


    Nyssa ignored us both and turned to our mother. "Mother. Please. Talk some sense into him before he does something that makes us all look bad."


    Medusa had been silent through this entire conversation, simply staring at me. Unblinking.


    And suddenly, I realized something.


    ¡­She wasn¡¯t mad.


    She was processing.


    Which was somehow much worse.


    Then she let out a long, slow exhale, as if contemplating whether or not to throw me into Tartarus for my own safety.


    Finally, she spoke.


    ¡°If that is your wish¡­¡± her voice carried the weight of storms. ¡°Then I will see it done.¡±


    Nyssa froze mid-eye-roll. "Wait, what?"


    Krios frowned. "That was¡­ easier than expected."


    Even I was caught off guard. I had expected an argument, maybe even a flat-out refusal. But instead¡ªthis?


    Medusa turned, her golden eyes locking onto mine. There was no rage, no disappointment.


    Only concern.


    Not for the world.


    For me.


    She said, "Come, Raezel. If you are to live among mortals, then we will do this my way."


    It was supposed to be a normal day for the King Eldors, The King of Velmor.


    He woke up, stretched, probably admired himself in a polished bronze mirror, and then sat on his golden throne, ready for another day of ruling over people who had no choice but to listen to him.


    Then, something strange happened.


    A guard¡ªa fully armed, battle-hardened warrior¡ªran into the hall screaming.


    Not shouting. Screaming.


    ¡°W-WE HAVE A PROBLEM!¡± the guard stammered, pointing frantically toward the entrance. His face was pale. His hands shook. His knees looked like they wanted to quit their job.


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    The King frowned. ¡°What kind of problem?¡±


    The guard opened his mouth¡ªthen closed it¡ªthen opened it again. ¡°I¡ªIt¡¯s¡ªShe¡¯s¡ª¡±


    Then another scream.


    This time, from outside the palace.


    And then the great doors swung open.


    Not by force.


    Not by magic.


    No, they simply moved aside, as if they knew better than to stand in her way.


    A noble gasped so hard he fainted.


    A servant girl threw herself on the floor and started praying to every god she could name.


    And the King?


    The King went completely still.


    Because stepping into his grand hall, uninvited, unannounced, unbothered¡ªwas Medusa.


    The living nightmare of Olympus. The creature whispered about in horror stories. The monster who made even gods think twice before crossing her.


    She walked in silence, her golden eyes sweeping across the terrified faces of mortals who wouldn¡¯t even dare to breathe too loudly in her presence.


    And behind her?


    Me, Raezel¡ªher son, and current problem.


    Nyssa, my older sister, who looked unimpressed but was very obviously enjoying watching people have full mental breakdowns.


    Krios, my younger brother, smirked like he had been waiting for something exactly like this to happen.


    The King, still frozen, finally managed to speak.


    ¡°¡­Why?¡±


    It wasn¡¯t even a full question. Just the word why, as if he wasn¡¯t sure which question was the most important right now.


    Then, very carefully, he turned his gaze upward.


    "O mighty Zeus, if I have wronged you, please smite me now rather than let me die like this!"


    And then, the air in the hall grew heavy, crackling with divine energy. A voice, deep as the churning sky and vast as the heavens, echoed from above.


    ¡°Even I, who sit upon the highest throne of Olympus, do not know the purpose of medusa¡¯s arrival.¡±


    The King¡¯s soul left his body.


    Silence clung to the air, thick with unspoken fear. No one moved. No one breathed.


    And then, Medusa took a step forward.


    She did not glare. She did not raise her voice.


    Yet when she finally spoke, her words carried the weight of inevitability.


    ¡°Take care of him.¡±


    The King blinked. Looked at me. Then at Medusa. Then at me again. Then back at Medusa.


    "...I¡¯m sorry. What?"


    Medusa¡¯s gaze remained steady. Unyielding. Absolute.


    The King felt his entire bloodline shrink into nothingness. "O-Of course, great one," he stammered, nearly choking on his own words. "I will care for him as if he were¡ª" He hesitated. He did not dare say my own son, for how could a mere mortal father a child of Medusa? "¡ªas if he were a prince of my own kingdom."


    His voice wavered, but his soul knew there was no room for refusal.


    My mother¡¯s golden eyes studied him for a moment that stretched far too long. A flicker of something crossed her expression¡ªsatisfaction, perhaps. Or warning.


    She turned to me. Her hand, cold yet impossibly gentle, brushed against my cheek.


    "You do not yet understand what it means to bear my blood," she said softly. "But you will."


    Then, as swiftly as she had arrived, she turned away. The serpents in her hair shifted, hissing softly, their movements a whisper of power.


    A soft hiss. A shift in the air.


    From the nest of serpents coiled atop Medusa¡¯s head, one moved.


    Not in the usual restless, slithering way. No. This was deliberate. Purposeful.


    The serpent uncoiled itself, its sleek, dark scales shimmering as it lengthened and stretched beyond what should have been possible. Then, with a ripple of magic, it took form.


    A man¡ªif one could call him that. Tall, draped in flowing obsidian robes, his eyes slitted like a viper¡¯s, his presence as sharp as a drawn blade.


    Nihaga.


    I didn¡¯t flinch. Because I knew him.


    "My Queen," he said, his voice smooth as silk, his gaze unwavering. "I will not leave his side."


    The King, who had just barely managed to start breathing again, went stiff as a corpse.


    Medusa¡¯s expression remained unchanged. "You doubt my decision?"


    Nihaga turned his piercing golden eyes on the assembled mortals, scanning them with the same warmth one might reserve for vermin.


    "I do not trust them," he said bluntly. "And I do not like them."


    The King looked visibly offended but had the survival instincts not to argue.


    "I will remain with Raezel," Nihaga declared. "To protect him. To guide him. To ensure he is not¡­" He paused, then glanced at the King. "...contaminated."


    The King swallowed hard. "C-Contaminated?"


    And then, before the mortal ruler could even process the insult¡ª


    More hissing. More movement.


    And then¡ªchaos.


    Every. Single. Serpent. That had ever lived in this kingdom¡ªwhether hiding in the forests, slithering in the cracks of ancient stone, or coiled beneath the palace itself¡ªcame forth.


    The ground shook with their arrival.


    The King aged five years on the spot.


    Some were small, some were monstrous, some divine¡ªyet all bowed before Medusa, before me and my siblings.


    And then, in one singular voice, they declared:


    "We will protect him."


    A beat of stunned silence.


    Then:


    "No, I will."


    "You? You¡¯re a garden snake, shut up."


    "Excuse me? I was personally blessed by Lady Medusa herself¡ª"


    "You hiss too much in your sleep."


    "I DO NOT."


    "Enough, all of you," one of the larger serpents boomed. "We should be discussing who among us is most suited for this sacred duty."


    "It is obviously me," Nihaga stated, exasperated.


    "Like hell it is!" Another serpent snapped. "You¡¯re Medusa¡¯s favorite, that doesn¡¯t mean you get the first claim."


    "I am not her favorite." Nihaga¡¯s eyes twitched. "I am simply more competent than the rest of you."


    "Who?"


    "Says literally everyone."


    "You¡¯ve never even fought a chimera!"


    "Because I kill threats before they become chimeras, you brainless worm."


    "Oh, now I¡¯m a worm?"


    "That¡¯s offensive to worms."


    The argument grew louder. More heated. More terrifying.


    The King, sitting utterly paralyzed, watched as his throne room turned into an arena of serpentine warfare.


    Meanwhile, I just¡­ sighed.


    "Nyssa," I muttered, nudging my sister. "How long do you think this will last?"


    She smirked, arms crossed. "At least another hour."


    Krios groaned. "I hate family gatherings."


    At the center of it all, my mother merely watched, the faintest smile playing on her lips.


    She already knew the truth.


    It didn¡¯t matter who won the argument.


    Because no matter what¡ªif a single scratch appeared on me, every last one of them would burn this kingdom to the ground before she even had to lift a finger.

 Chapter 4

    The serpentine argument escalated.


    What started as a simmering debate over who would be my protector had now turned into a full-blown verbal battlefield.


    ¡°I am the swiftest among us,¡± hissed a sleek, jet-black serpent coiled around one of the marble columns. ¡°If danger arises, I can strike before the enemy even sees their death coming.¡±


    ¡°Oh, please,¡± scoffed a massive golden-scaled viper. ¡°Speed is meaningless without strength. You may strike fast, but can you kill in a single bite?¡±


    ¡°Kill?¡± Nihaga rolled his eyes. ¡°My job is to protect him, not turn the palace into a graveyard.¡±


    ¡°You say that now, but wait until a mortal so much as breathes near him the wrong way¡ª¡±


    ¡°IF ANYONE SO MUCH AS LOOKS AT HIM WRONG, I WILL REMOVE THEIR BLOODLINE FROM HISTORY.¡±


    The King whimpered.


    The black serpent flicked its tongue. ¡°Alright, dramatic one, calm down.¡±


    ¡°I REFUSE.¡±


    Another serpent, this one a shimmering emerald green, uncoiled itself with an exaggerated sigh. ¡°You¡¯re all missing the point. Raphael doesn¡¯t need a bodyguard. He needs someone wise. Someone who can guide him through the complexities of both mortal and divine politics. Someone who¡ª¡±


    ¡°Someone who is NOT YOU,¡± the golden viper interrupted. ¡°Oh, yes, let¡¯s protect him with wisdom¡ªI¡¯m sure the next sword aimed at his throat will be so moved by your intellect it¡¯ll drop dead on the spot.¡±


    The emerald serpent huffed. ¡°Diplomacy can prevent battles before they start, you brute.¡±


    ¡°And what if diplomacy fails?¡± The golden viper smirked. ¡°What then, scholar?¡±


    ¡°Then we eat them,¡± the emerald serpent said flatly.


    A moment of silence.


    Then:


    ¡°...Wait, what?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m saying,¡± the emerald serpent flicked its tail, ¡°we talk first, eat second.¡±


    ¡°I like this one,¡± Nyssa whispered to me, smirking.


    Nihaga pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°I swear on the Styx, you¡¯re all insufferable.¡±


    ¡°Then why don¡¯t you prove you¡¯re better?¡± The golden viper challenged. ¡°Or are you just riding on your ¡®favorite child¡¯ status?¡±


    Nihaga¡¯s eye twitched. ¡°I AM NOT HER FAVORITE.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes,¡± the black serpent mused. ¡°That¡¯s why you¡¯re always the first one she calls upon, right?¡±


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    ¡°It¡¯s because I am competent.¡±


    ¡°Or maybe because she likes you best?¡±


    ¡°I WILL KILL YOU WHERE YOU STAND.¡±


    The King was shaking.


    The guards were praying.


    The priests were considering an early retirement.


    Krios, however, just groaned. ¡°I swear, if this goes on any longer, I¡¯m going to start rooting for the mortals.¡±


    Nyssa grinned. ¡°Oh, come on, this is the most fun we¡¯ve had all week.¡±


    Meanwhile, the argument had reached new heights of absurdity.


    ¡°You¡¯re all fools,¡± a massive, white-scaled serpent declared. ¡°We are overcomplicating this. The answer is simple: we form a rotating guard. Shifts. Teams.¡±


    ¡°Oh, great idea, genius,¡± Nihaga scoffed. ¡°Let¡¯s schedule our protection, as if threats wait for appointments.¡±


    ¡°No, listen¡ª¡±


    ¡°Do you think an assassin will say, ¡®Oh, my apologies, I¡¯ll wait until the next shift change before striking¡¯?¡±


    ¡°You have a better idea?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Me. Watching him. Always.¡±


    The golden viper hissed. ¡°You do realize he¡¯s going to be living among mortals, right? You¡¯ll stand out like a divine plague.¡±


    Nihaga smirked. ¡°Then let them fear.¡±


    The King audibly choked.


    At this point, I was beginning to suspect that my greatest threat in mortal lands wouldn¡¯t be the gods, or assassins, or even fate itself.


    It would be the absolute circus of overprotective murder-snakes fighting for my custody.


    I cleared my throat, pointedly ignoring the absolute terror in the room.


    "I''ve made my decision," I said, as if the walls themselves hadn''t nearly caved in from tension.


    I turned to face the gathered serpents.


    "I choose Nihaga."


    For a moment, nothing.


    And then¡ª


    "Of course, it''s Nihaga."


    "Oh wow, what a surprise, Nihaga wins. Again."


    "Biggest suck-up in the entire land."


    "I mean, sure, if you like ¡®boring and brooding¡¯¡ª"


    "Hey! I do more than brood¡ª" Nihaga started, but another serpent cut in.


    "Oh, do you? Do you really?"


    "Yes! I also¡ª"


    "Protect Raezel."


    "Exactly."


    "Wow. Such depth. Much variety."


    I sighed as the jealous grumbling continued. Some were dramatically writhing on the floor in exaggerated grief. Others were whispering conspiracies to each other like gossipy old oracles.


    "It¡¯s favoritism, that¡¯s what it is."


    "I heard Nihaga bribed the Fates."


    "I bet Raezel just didn¡¯t want to hurt his feelings."


    "It¡¯s always ¡®Nihaga, Nihaga, Nihaga¡¯¡ªwhat about me?! I¡¯ve been doing my scales routine every day!"


    "You look exactly the same as yesterday."


    "IT TAKES TIME."


    Meanwhile, the King looked horrified.


    I glanced at Mother.


    She said nothing¡ªjust lifted her hand.


    That single motion was enough.


    Every serpent, no matter how mighty, fell silent.


    Medusa did not speak, nor did she offer an explanation. She didn''t need to.


    I would stay in the kingdom with Nihaga. That was final.


    Then, as Mother turned to leave, she spoke at last.


    A single sentence.


    A quiet, measured statement that rang louder than any battle cry.


    ¡°He is Medusa¡¯s son,¡± she said, voice like carved stone. ¡°He stays as long as he wishes.¡±


    Her gaze turned cold.


    ¡°And if he desires this kingdom¡ªhe shall have it.¡±


    The King nearly collapsed.

 Chapter 5

    "Stop, Mother."


    It was a simple request.


    But the world itself hesitated.


    The air in the great hall thickened, pressing against the walls, against the very fabric of time itself. The torches dimmed, their flames flickering as shadows stretched unnaturally long across the marble floors.


    It was as if reality itself had paused, waiting to see if my words were truly meant to be spoken.


    Mother stopped.


    Slowly, she turned to face me, her golden eyes gleaming¡ªpredatory, unblinking.


    The hall remained utterly silent.


    And then¡ª


    "Hey, Prince, do you know who you''re talking to?"


    Every head in the room turned toward the King.


    The serpents. The mortals. Even my siblings, who had been casually enjoying the show.


    Every single pair of eyes locked onto the man as if he had just spat in the face of fate itself.


    The weight of his words crashed down on him like a mountain.


    His expression shifted from mild exasperation to sheer, unfiltered regret.


    He froze.


    His own blood ran cold.


    Did he¡­ Did he really just say that?


    Did he just¡ªcorrect me?


    Did he forget¡ªwho I am?


    The hall, which had already been tense, now felt unnatural, as if something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.


    Even the serpents¡ªwho had just been grumbling about favoritism¡ªwent dead silent.


    One of them actually hissed, "Did he just¡ª?"


    Another, eyes wide, muttered, "Oh, he''s dead. He''s absolutely dead."


    Krios, my ever-enjoyable brother, grinned. "Oh, this is going to be good."


    Mother, however, said nothing.


    She simply looked at the King.


    A long, silent look.


    A look that had likely sent entire warriors to their graves before a battle even began.


    The King, finally realizing what he had done, seemed to shrink into his throne.


    He swallowed.


    And then, finally, I spoke.


    "It''s not fair," I said, breaking the silence. "Only taking favors from someone like Velmor¡­ and giving nothing in return."


    For a brief moment, the hall remained still, uncertainty crackling in the air like a storm waiting to break.


    Then, the serpents¡ªoh, the serpents¡ªerupted.


    "Oh? Oh?? OH??" one of them hissed dramatically. "Our dear prince has a sense of fairness? Since when?"


    "This is new. I kind of like it."


    "Wait, wait, does this mean we get something in return? Because I would like a shrine. A big one. With gold."


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    "Oh, stop. You don¡¯t even like gold."


    "I like it when others don¡¯t have it."


    Meanwhile, the King looked even worse than before.


    His throat visibly bobbed as he struggled to process what was happening.


    Because now¡ªnot only was he forced to shelter Medusa¡¯s son, but Medusa¡¯s son was actively negotiating.


    And that meant something very dangerous.


    It meant that I was not just here as a guest.


    I was here to bargain.


    To demand fairness.


    To ensure Velmor was not left with nothing.


    That I was not just passing through.


    That I was here to stay.


    The serpents continued their playful bickering, but the King?


    He looked like a man who had just realized he was already in the grave.


    And Mother?


    Mother simply watched, her expression unreadable.


    Then, after a long moment, she spoke.


    "And what is it you demand in return, my son?"


    Her voice did not rise, yet it swallowed the room whole. It was not a question. It was not permission. It was law, spoken into existence. The weight of her words pressed against my chest, against my bones, as if the very world had been bound in chains of fate, and I¡ªher own son¡ªwas ensnared within them.


    Her voice was calm, but there was something deeper in her words.


    Something undeniable.


    "The Seal."


    The moment I spoke those words, the air in the hall shifted.


    For the first time since my mother¡¯s arrival, the mortals present¡ªnobles, advisors, warriors¡ªshowed something other than fear.


    Hope.


    Excitement flickered in their eyes, cautious yet undeniable.


    The serpents, however, were stunned. Some of them hissed softly, exchanging glances of confusion and disbelief.


    "Did¡­ did he just say The Seal?"


    "I think he did."


    "That¡¯s not what I expected."


    "You expected bloodshed."


    "And? I still say it was a reasonable expectation."


    My brother, Krios¡ªtypically known for his playful and carefree nature¡ªstiffened the moment he heard my request. His arms, once lazily crossed, slowly dropped to his sides. His expression turned cold, serious. He knew me well. He knew I was not naive. He knew I fully understood the weight of my own words.


    And that realization unsettled him.


    The others felt it, too. Nyssa, Nihaga, and the serpents who had been basking in the entertainment of this spectacle¡­ all fell into silence. The change in their demeanor sent a message¡ªthis was no ordinary request.


    The King.


    For the first time since this ordeal began, the King¡¯s expression changed. His terror¡ªthe pure, suffocating fear that had nearly consumed him¡ªwas replaced by something else.


    Ambition.


    For the first time since my mother entered his hall, he wasn¡¯t cowering like a man about to lose everything.


    He was looking at me as a ruler.


    And as a ruler¡­ he saw an opportunity.


    Because The Seal¡ªthe legendary contract that bound strong nations to protect weaker lands¡ªwas not just a request.


    It was a declaration.


    It meant that I was not here as a burden.


    I was here to elevate this kingdom.


    To tie it¡ªunshakably¡ªto the might of Medusa herself.


    To the Gorgon Queen.


    To the serpents who lurked in the shadows, ready to spill blood at the slightest insult.


    To me.


    The weight of my words settled over the room, and I could feel every single being present processing it.


    The mortals, who had been fearing for their lives just moments ago, now stood a little taller.


    The serpents, once vying for my attention with competitive jealousy, were now silent, taking in the implications.


    And the King?


    The King was beginning to see the vision.


    He exhaled slowly, his fingers gripping the arms of his throne.


    Then, in a voice that still held a hint of hesitation, but also growing determination, he spoke.


    "You wish for this kingdom to hold The Seal?"


    I nodded.


    "Under the Seal, this land will be protected. Strengthened. It will stand among giants, never to fall to war, calamity, or divine judgment."


    I looked at him, my golden eyes gleaming.


    "And all it costs you¡­ is your loyalty."


    The King hesitated.


    Not because he doubted the offer.


    But because, in that moment, he realized¡­


    He wasn¡¯t negotiating with a boy.


    He was negotiating with a son of Medusa.


    A being who, in time, could rise beyond the gods themselves.


    And for the first time, he understood exactly what that meant.


    The hall had been steeped in tension, weighed down by Raezel¡¯s words. The Seal of Medusa¡ªan impossibility, a request beyond comprehension¡ªhad left the mortals in awe, the serpents in stunned silence. Even Krios, ever-playful, had stiffened at the gravity of it.


    The King had begun to understand. To see the vision Raezel had placed before him. To glimpse what it meant to stand beneath Medusa¡¯s protection. And then¡ªbefore that vision could fully take root¡ª


    War itself arrived.

 Chapter 6

    In a single instant, reality itself shifted.


    One moment, the hall was bound by mortal fears and divine tension. The next¡ªhe appeared.


    The God of War. The son of Zeus.


    Ares arrived.


    He did not arrive with thunder, nor with the fury of Olympians. No, his arrival was quieter¡ªa mere blink of crimson light, as if war itself had stepped through the veil of existence.


    Yet the weight of his presence was crushing.


    His armor gleamed like freshly spilled blood, his aura reeked of steel, of fire, of the endless clash of battle. The air itself thickened, as though war had become tangible¡ªalive.


    But no one, not a single soul in that hall, was looking at Ares.


    They were looking at his sword.


    A breath away from Raezel¡¯s throat.


    The King paled, his skin turning the sickly white of a man who had just witnessed his own funeral procession.


    The guards stood frozen, hands hovering over their weapons, knowing that to act was to die.


    The serpents coiled, their tongues flicking in agitation. The air was electric with venomous fury.


    And then, Ares spoke.


    "You, boy¡­ do you know what you have asked for?"


    His voice was not merely loud¡ªit was commanding. The weight of storms, of battles untold, of a thousand warriors screaming in their final moments¡ªthat was the sound of Ares¡¯ voice.


    And in that moment, every soul in the hall understood¡ª


    Why he was the God of War.


    Why he was the son of Zeus.


    His presence was absolute. His strength, unquestioned.


    And yet¡ª


    No one was afraid of Ares.


    They were afraid of who he had drawn his sword in front of.


    For Ares had chosen to bare his blade in front of Medusa¡ªtoward her son.


    A mistake so grand, so utterly unforgivable, that the Fates themselves must have gasped.


    And then¡ª


    A hiss.


    Low. Ancient. Deadly.


    Not from the serpents that slithered around the hall.


    But from her.


    Medusa.


    It was not anger. Not fury.


    No¡ªthis sound was something older.


    It was a warning. A whisper from the abyss of time itself. The kind of sound that came before kings fell.


    And Ares¡ªthe mighty war god, the unshaken warrior¡ªhesitated.


    For the first time.


    Ares blinked.


    His grip on the sword faltered¡ªbarely, almost imperceptibly¡ªbut it was there. A flicker of restraint, a realization clawing at the edges of his mind. He had made a miscalculation. A grave one.


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    The weight of Medusa¡¯s gaze bore down upon him, not with rage, not with wrath¡ªbut with certainty. A certainty he had seen once before, long ago, in the eyes of a warrior he had struck down. A certainty that sent a cold shudder through his immortal bones.


    For the God of War had stepped onto a battlefield where his blade meant nothing.


    And he knew it.


    Now, he had drawn his sword against Raezel, the son of Medusa¡­ in front of Medusa herself.


    His fingers twitched, ever so slightly. It was the smallest movement, yet it spoke volumes. A warrior¡¯s instinct¡ªto correct a mistake before it became his undoing.


    Still gripping his blade, Ares straightened his posture, attempting to regain what little dignity remained. His voice was steady, but thinner now, the roar of war tempered into something dangerously close to diplomacy.


    "This land," he declared, "is under my command."


    Silence.


    The words hung in the air.


    Then¡ª


    A cough.


    A single, casual cough.


    And it came from the King.


    The same mortal ruler who had moments ago feared for his life. Now, he leaned forward on his throne, an eyebrow raised, speaking as if he were discussing the weather.


    "That¡¯s fine," the King said, waving a dismissive hand. "You can withdraw your command."


    Ares¡¯ eyes narrowed.


    "Withdraw?"


    "Yes," the King said, his tone entirely too light for the situation. "If we are granted ¡®The Seal¡¯ from Medusa, we won¡¯t need your protection anymore, will we?"


    And just like that¡ª


    The world shifted again.


    Ares did not move, did not speak. And yet, everyone saw it. The way his fingers curled, ever so slightly, the way his stance shifted as if the very ground beneath him had betrayed him.


    For this was not just a refusal.


    This was an insult.


    No.


    A humiliation.


    The war god¡¯s claim¡ªhis very authority¡ªwas being dismissed like a child¡¯s tantrum. A land under his command had dared to suggest they would be better off under Medusa.


    And what was worse?


    They were right.


    Ares¡¯ grip on his sword tightened¡ªbut he did not raise it.


    Because what could he do or say?


    Ares stood motionless, yet within the halls of his mind, a storm raged. He could feel it¡ªthe weight of a gaze that needed no eyes to see. The sky did not darken, nor did thunder roar. And yet, he knew.


    Zeus was watching. And Ares knew¡ªthis was not the first time he had made this mistake.


    Not as a father.


    But as a king.


    And then¡ªwithout sound, without breath, his presence filled Ares¡¯ mind. A voice not spoken, but understood. A voice as vast as the sky, yet as piercing as the tip of a spear.


    "You have drawn your blade against Medusa''s son, in the presence of Medusa herself. Tell me, Ares, have you learned nothing? Back then, she was merely a Gorgon, a cursed thing beneath our notice. But now¡ªnow she is Queen Medusa, feared by the three realms. And still, you dare to stand against her?


    There was no wrath. No fury.


    Only weight.


    Ares clenched his jaw. He would not kneel. He would not submit. But before Zeus, the King of Olympus, he was made to listen.


    "Tell me, Ares, what outcome did you foresee? What victory did you think awaited you here?"


    The words resonated like the toll of a bronze bell. The meaning was clear¡ªnot a reprimand, not even disappointment. No, this was worse.


    It was confirmation of a mistake already made.


    Ares knew his father well. Zeus did not waste words, nor did he speak without purpose. If he was asking, it meant Ares had already lost.


    Ares let out a slow breath. His fingers, still curled around his sword, loosened slightly. Not in surrender. But in acknowledgment.


    "I meant not to offend," he answered within the realm of thought. "But honor compels me. This land is under my domain."


    A pause.


    Then, a shift¡ªnot of the world, nor of the heavens, but within his own thoughts.


    Zeus was not angered.


    If anything, he was amused.


    "Honor?" The word was spoken like the rolling of distant thunder. "Do you think honor will keep you standing if Medusa decides to erase you from existence?"


    Ares said nothing.


    For even he could not deny it.


    Medusa was no goddess, no Olympian, and yet¡ªthe very mention of her name commanded a fear that not even Olympus could deny. And Ares, more than anyone, knew why.


    Zeus, of all beings, understood this best. He had ruled the heavens, shaped the fates of men and gods alike. And yet, there was a reason he had never sought to command Medusa.


    He could not.


    For Medusa bowed to none.


    Ares breathed deeply, steadying himself. He could feel the weight of his father¡¯s presence easing, withdrawing. Yet before it faded completely, one final thought passed between them.


    "Ares, there is no battle here. Only echoes of your past failures."


    And then, Zeus was gone.


    Ares exhaled, the breath leaving his lungs slow and measured. He glanced at the mortals¡ªat their wide, stunned eyes. They had heard nothing, yet they had seen everything.


    Then his gaze fell upon Raezel.


    The son of Medusa stood before him, unflinching. He did not gloat, nor did he smirk. He simply waited.


    Ares sighed.


    Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his sword.

 Chapter 7

    Ares, the mighty God of War, son of Zeus, conqueror of countless battlefields, stood there like a child who had just been caught breaking a sacred vase. His sword¡ªhis divine, blood-soaked sword¡ªwas still in his hand, but he suddenly had no idea what to do with it.


    The silence dragged on.


    Too long.


    Far too long.


    Someone coughed.


    Ares chanced a glance at Medusa¡¯s face¡ªnope. Bad idea. That smile of hers was still there, calm and unreadable. Ares would rather face a hundred Titans than that smile.


    So he turned his eyes to Reazel instead.


    Big mistake.


    Reazel was looking at him like he was the biggest idiot in Olympus. And considering how many idiots Olympus had, that was quite the accomplishment.


    "Uh¡­" Ares finally muttered, clearing his throat. "So¡­ how are things?"


    Everyone blinked.


    Even the serpents.


    Reazel tilted his head. "Did the God of War just try to start small talk?"


    Ares shifted uncomfortably. "I¡ªlook, let''s all be reasonable here. Mistakes were made."


    Reazel raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You mean, you made a mistake?"


    Ares glared. "I did not say that."


    "You just did."


    "No, I didn''t."


    "You did."


    "I did not!"


    A serpent in the crowd mumbled, "He totally did."


    Ares gritted his teeth and ran a hand through his hair. Why was this happening to him?


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    He was the God of War, for Zeus¡¯ sake! He was supposed to be feared! Respected! Mortals were supposed to tremble at his presence, not exchange judgmental glances like he was some fool who had just walked into the wrong tavern!


    Ares winced. Oh no.


    He opened his mouth, then immediately closed it. How did one even begin to explain this?


    He considered lying.


    That lasted about half a second.


    Then he considered running.


    That lasted about another half second.


    Then he considered just... standing there and hoping Medusa forgot about this whole thing.


    Yeah. No. That was never happening.


    Ares felt a bead of sweat roll down his neck.


    "Uh¡­ I mean¡­"


    Ares swallowed. Then, without any warning¡ª


    CLANG.


    His sword hit the ground as he dropped it dramatically.


    "Whoops," he said, very unconvincingly. "Didn¡¯t mean to pull that out. Complete accident. Slipped right out of my hand."


    The entire hall just stared.


    Medusa tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable.


    Reazel crossed his arms.


    The king blinked. Twice.


    The serpents whispered amongst themselves.


    One of them muttered, "Did he just¡ª?"


    Another replied, "I think he did."


    A third simply said, "Pathetic."


    Ares coughed. "Sooo... we good?"


    No one spoke.


    Somewhere in the distance, a single cricket chirped.


    And then¡ª


    Medusa laughed.


    It wasn¡¯t an evil laugh. It wasn¡¯t a victorious laugh.


    It was just¡­ a laugh.


    A slow, soft chuckle that sent absolute terror down Ares¡¯ spine.


    "God of War," she mused, stepping closer, her smile widening just a fraction. "How strange. I thought you were braver than this."


    Ares swallowed.


    He wasn¡¯t brave.


    Not when it came to her.


    Not when it came to the woman whose wrath even the gods feared.


    But, well¡­ he wasn¡¯t exactly stupid, either.


    So he did the only thing a self-respecting war god could do in this situation.


    He cleared his throat.


    Slowly bent down.


    And ever-so-gently picked up his sword and placed it back into its sheath.


    "Right," he said. "Glad we could clear that up."


    Then he turned¡ªvery, very slowly¡ªto Raphael.


    "And you," he said, "what in Olympus did you just try to pull?"


    Reazel shrugged. "Something fun."


    Ares exhaled sharply through his nose. "Fun, huh?"


    Medusa rested a hand on Reazel¡¯s shoulder, her gaze still locked on Ares. "My son does as he pleases."


    Ares took a very careful step backward.


    "... Noted."

 Chapter 8

    Raezel stepped forward, arms crossed, eyes cold. He didn¡¯t look afraid.


    He didn¡¯t even look impressed.


    "You know, Ares," he began, his voice casual¡ªtoo casual. "You¡¯re not the first god who¡¯s wanted me dead."


    Ares narrowed his eyes.


    Raezel¡¯s smirk grew. "Actually, there¡¯s barely a god or demi-god who hasn¡¯t tried to kill me." He gestured lazily around the hall. "And yet, the moment they step in front of my mother¡ª" he tilted his head toward Medusa, whose eerie, knowing smile remained untouched¡ª "they suddenly forget how to look me in the eye while speaking."


    Ares clenched his fists.


    "And yes, exactly," Raezel continued, his voice dropping slightly, almost mocking. "You think it, and I state it. Your life is my one wish away, God of War."


    The weight of those words settled in the air like a thundercloud.


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    For the first time in his immortal existence¡ªAres felt envy.


    Raezel stood before him, arms crossed, gaze unwavering.


    He did not flinch.


    He did not bow.


    He simply was.


    Ares had faced warriors, kings, and gods. He had seen power in all its forms¡ªraw, refined, divine.


    But Raezel carried something else.


    Unshaken certainty.


    Even Ares had never stood with such certainty.


    Raezel did not need to prove himself. He did not need to demand respect. He existed beyond fear, beyond doubt¡ªbeyond Olympus itself.


    For all his strength, for all the wars he had won, Ares had never stood before anyone like this.


    He had always been a god of conflict, a weapon forged for war.


    But Raezel?


    He was his own force, which changed fate itself.


    He had already done what no one else could¡ªhe had rewritten fate.


    And that¡­ that was what Olympus feared.


    Ares'' fingers curled around the hilt of his sword, though he did not raise it.


    He exhaled slowly, voice low, edged with something he had never spoken aloud before.


    "What a terrifying thing you are, boy."

 Chapter 9

    Ares was about to speak¡ªsomething to salvage what little dignity he had left¡ªwhen¡ª


    "Ohhh, look at that! The God of War hesitated."


    Ares froze.


    Slowly, he turned his head.


    The serpents.


    Oh no.


    The serpents were back.


    And they were enjoying this.


    A particularly smug-looking one¡ªNihaga¡ªslithered forward in his mortal form, arms crossed. "You know," he mused, tapping his chin. "I always knew Olympus had some fragile egos, but this is truly special."


    Ares gritted his teeth. "You dare¡ª"


    "Oh, I dare." Nihaga smirked. "You pulled a sword on him like a god¡­ now stand like a soldier who just realized he marched into the wrong war."


    The other serpents burst into laughter.


    "God of War? Please. You look more like a child who just realized he picked a fight with his father."


    "I told you all," another snake hissed. "I told you he¡¯d regret it!"


    "This is better than any battle I¡¯ve ever seen!"


    Ares looked like he wanted to kill every single one of them.


    But he didn¡¯t move.


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    Because¡ªwell.


    Medusa was still right there.


    Raezel casually slung an arm around Nihaga¡¯s shoulders. "I like this one," he said. "Very observant."


    "I am quite perceptive," Nihaga agreed, tossing his hair dramatically.


    Ares inhaled sharply. "I hate all of you."


    The serpents erupted into even louder laughter.


    Ares stood there. Stiff. Unmoving.


    A serpent¡ªone particularly large and particularly unimpressed¡ªtilted its head, flicking its tongue before asking the question everyone was thinking.


    "Why are you still here, war god?"


    Ares exhaled slowly. His grip on his sword had long since loosened, his pride dented, his ego shattered into tiny, embarrassing pieces. And yet, he did not leave.


    Instead, his gaze swept across the room, lingering on Medusa, then Raezel, then¡ªbegrudgingly¡ªNihaga, before he finally spoke.


    "I want to see if Velmor will get ¡°The Seal.¡±


    The words carried no arrogance, no defiance¡ªonly calculated interest.


    The hall tensed.


    The mortals did not like that response.


    King Eldors, however, felt a cold dread creeping up his spine.


    Because at that moment, he realized something.


    If Medusa granted The Seal, his kingdom would be untouchable. Protected. Not even Ares himself could lay a finger upon their land.


    But if Medusa didn¡¯t¡­


    Then Ares would surely return.


    And when he did¡ª


    He would not come alone.


    A shudder ran through the king¡¯s body. His vision narrowed, the edges of the world blurring as the weight of the situation crushed him. His fingers twitched. His throat was so dry it burned.


    Ares noticed. And he smirked.


    "You see it now, don¡¯t you?"


    The king did.


    If he failed to secure Medusa¡¯s blessing now, then the moment Raezel left this kingdom, war would follow. A war they would not survive.


    Ares took a single step forward, his presence suffocating, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement.


    The king barely kept himself from stumbling back.


    Because one thing was clear:


    Whether through Medusa¡¯s protection or Ares¡¯ wrath¡ª


    This kingdom¡¯s fate would be decided today.

 Chapter 10

    The torches flickered. The air grew heavier. The shadows stretched unnaturally across the stone floor.


    And then¡ª


    Darkness.


    Not the absence of light. Not the kind that mortals feared when the sun dipped below the horizon. No¡ªthis was true darkness. A presence, vast and boundless, swallowing the very concept of illumination.


    Then, from the abyss, a voice.


    Soft. Silk woven at midnight.


    "How amusing¡­ I found war brewing, and yet no one invited me?"


    Every breath in the hall ceased.


    Because that voice belonged to only one being.


    Nyx.


    The Goddess of Night. The primordial force, older than Olympus itself. The mother of Sleep, Death, and Dreams. A being so ancient, so powerful, that even Zeus feared her.


    Ares visibly stiffened.


    The king¡¯s face turned paler than a ghost.


    The serpents froze mid-hiss. Even Nihaga, for the first time, showed something close to uncertainty.


    And yet¡ª


    Medusa¡­ smiled.


    Nyx stepped forward, the darkness shifting around her like a living thing. Her eyes¡ªtwo endless voids¡ªswept across the room. Then, without hesitation, she walked past everyone and stopped before Medusa.


    And then¡ª


    She embraced her.


    The room nearly collapsed from sheer disbelief.


    The mere mortal king was dying inside.


    Three of the most powerful beings in existence stood in his hall. Any one of them could erase his kingdom with a flick of their hand.


    And now, the Goddess of the Night and the Queen of the Cursed were exchanging what could only be described as a sisterly embrace.


    But one question remained.


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    Why was Nyx here?


    And more importantly¡ª


    Who was the child standing beside her?


    The silence stretched. Thick. Suffocating.


    No one spoke.


    No one breathed.


    It wasn¡¯t just stillness¡ªit was the kind of quiet that crushed the air from your lungs, that made the very walls of the hall feel too close.


    And then, he spoke.


    "You''re soft, Raezel."


    The voice was smooth, cold¡ªlike the whisper of the void itself. It was not an insult, not an accusation.


    It was a fact.


    Raezel turned, meeting the abyssal gaze of the one who had arrived with Nyx¡ªReaga.


    A creation of Nyx¡ªwilled into existence, not by fate, but by a goddess who had never known limits.


    The hall turned, every gaze locking onto the figure standing beside Nyx.


    His presence was nothing like Ares¡ªwho radiated untamed power¡ªor Medusa, whose aura carried the weight of inevitable doom.


    No.


    This was something else entirely.


    Darkness didn¡¯t just cling to him.


    It obeyed him.


    The shadows at his feet coiled and twisted unnaturally. The torches flickered, though there was no wind.


    Even the serpents¡ªalways hissing, always whispering¡ªwere silent.


    Reaga¡¯s smirk deepened, abyss-like eyes locking onto Raezel¡¯s.


    "If anyone dares to draw their sword against me¡ªif my mother were Medusa¡ª¡±


    He tilted his head slightly, his smirk widening.


    "That would be the last time they ever did."


    The room stopped breathing.


    And then¡ª


    "You know who we are, don¡¯t you, brother?"


    Brother.


    The word struck the hall like a crack of thunder.


    The son of Nyx.


    The son of Medusa.


    Two beings whose names made even Olympus shudder.


    And yet, here they stood¡ªin a mortal hall, speaking as equals.


    Reaga glanced at Ares.


    His smirk didn¡¯t fade.


    ¡°This god with a fragile ego¡ª¡± he motioned lazily toward Ares, whose jaw tightened ¡°¡ªand this mortal king? In front of us? They are the same. Mere things, waiting to be forgotten by time.¡±


    The king nearly choked. He wanted to leave his own hall.


    Ares?


    His fingers twitched. His grip tightened around his sword¡ªbut for the first time, he hesitated.


    It was instinct. A warrior¡¯s reaction to being dismissed. A spark of battle stirred in his chest, demanding that he prove his worth, that he fight back.


    But before he could even consider it¡ªlogic struck him like a blade.


    Reaga was not someone he could fight.


    Not here.


    Not now.


    And that realization weighed heavier than any wound.


    Reaga¡¯s gaze slid back to Raezel, eyes darker than the void itself.


    ¡°But what does interest me, brother, is this¡ª¡±


    He stepped closer, the shadows parting for him effortlessly.


    ¡°Why do you want to live here? Among mortals?¡±


    It wasn¡¯t a judgment.


    It wasn''t a mockery.


    It was genuine curiosity.

 Chapter 11

    The hall remained unnervingly silent. Even the flames in the torches flickered weakly, as if uncertain whether they should dare to exist in the presence of such beings.


    Raezel met Reaga¡¯s gaze.


    ¡°Why do you want to live here? Among mortals?¡±


    It was a simple question. But the weight behind it was suffocating.


    Ares was still gripping his sword, but his once-burning confidence had been doused. The king stood frozen, torn between the overwhelming fear in his bones and the cold realization that his land had become a stage for titans.


    Even Medusa, the ever-imposing figure of divine wrath, remained quiet.


    Raezel took a slow breath.


    ¡°Because they live.¡±


    Reaga raised an eyebrow. A smirk teased at his lips.


    ¡°They live?¡±


    Raezel nodded, stepping forward.


    ¡°We exist, Reaga. We rule, fight, destroy, and scheme. But mortals¡­ they live. They dream, they love, they suffer, they struggle. Every choice they make has meaning because they know they will die one day. Every step they take is on borrowed time. That¡¯s what makes it real.¡±


    Ares¡¯ scowl deepened. ¡°And what of power? What of dominion? The world bends to strength, not fleeting moments of mortality.¡±


    Reaga¡¯s dark, star-filled eyes narrowed.


    Ares had spoken¡ªbut he had forgotten who he was speaking to.


    The weight in the room shifted. Not visibly, not with force¡ªbut with presence. The kind of presence that turned kings into cowards and gods into shadows of their own arrogance.


    ¡°Ares.¡±


    Reaga¡¯s voice was calm. Smooth. Absolute.


    ¡°You dare speak against my brother?¡±


    It wasn¡¯t a question. It was a warning.


    Ares¡¯ fingers twitched.


    Reaga took a slow, deliberate step forward.


    ¡°Surely, Raezel and I are not bound by blood, but our bond is stronger than anything Olympus could ever offer. You think power is all that matters? Then let me show you power, O God of War.¡±


    The air shifted.


    Reality shuddered.


    The very fabric of existence trembled under Reaga¡¯s presence, as if the universe itself bent around his will.


    The mortals in the hall felt their knees buckle. Their lungs burned. Their bodies screamed in submission to something far beyond their understanding.


    Even the serpents¡ªwho feared nothing¡ªstilled.


    ¡°If my brother wished for it,¡± Reaga said, his voice silk wrapped around steel, ¡°I could make the sun rise at night and drown it in the day. I could tear the sky asunder and make the stars bow at his feet. I am the son of Nyx, the creation of the darkness. And you?¡±


    He tilted his head slightly, gaze razor-sharp.


    ¡°You are a mere warrior.¡±


    Ares flinched.


    For the first time in his immortal life, he felt something foreign claw at his chest.


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    Inferiority.


    The serpents hissed in delight. Nihaga, wrapped protectively near Raezel, flicked his tongue mockingly.


    ¡°Tell me, O God of War,¡± Reaga continued, ¡°do you still wish to speak of power?¡±


    Ares remained silent. His grip on his sword trembled.


    Reaga smirked.


    ¡°I thought not.¡±


    The hall held its breath.


    The king¡ªwho moments ago had contemplated whether it was possible to simply flee and abandon his own throne¡ªfound himself inching forward.


    And then¡ª


    Medusa slowly raised her hand.


    The choice was hers.


    And Olympus itself would tremble at the answer.


    The grand hall, once filled with tension so thick it could smother the gods themselves, took a sudden and unexpected turn.


    Two figures stepped forward¡ªNyssa and Krios.


    The air around them crackled, not with divine power, but with something far more dangerous.


    Sibling fury.


    Reaga, the Prince of Darkness, the son of Nyx, who had just reduced the God of War to insignificance, suddenly found himself at the receiving end of two very displeased expressions.


    Nyssa crossed her arms, her piercing eyes narrowing. ¡°And what about us, dear brother Reaga?¡±


    Krios, standing beside her, nodded with a smirk that wasn¡¯t quite a smirk. ¡°Yes, dear brother. We were just wondering¡­ are you always this devoted to Raezel? Or do you, by any chance, remember that you have other siblings as well?¡±


    Silence.


    A moment ago, Reaga had stood unshaken in the face of war itself.


    Ares, son of Zeus, had been reduced to nothing beneath his words.


    And yet, now¡ª


    Reaga shifted. His fingers twitched. His eyes darted ever so slightly, looking for a possible escape route.


    He cleared his throat. ¡°I¡­ I love you too, my dearest.¡±


    Nyssa and Krios stared.


    Reaga tried again, flashing his usual dark, confident grin. ¡°Truly, with all my heart.¡±


    Still, silence.


    Then¡ª


    ¡°We don¡¯t think so.¡±


    The two took a step closer. The Prince of Darkness, the terror of mortals, the nightmare of gods¡ªtook a step back.


    Nihaga, still coiled beside Raezel, flicked his tongue in amusement. ¡°Oh? The mighty Reaga, retreating?¡±


    The serpents hissed in laughter.


    Even Medusa, usually a picture of regal calm, raised an eyebrow.


    Raezel folded his arms, amused. ¡°This is interesting.¡±


    Reaga¡¯s jaw tightened. His siblings never let things go. He knew this. He had been cursed with this knowledge since the day they were born.


    ¡°You always side with Raezel.¡± Nyssa¡¯s voice was light, but her eyes were not.


    ¡°Yes, always.¡± Krios agreed. ¡°So tell us, dear brother, where exactly do we stand?¡±


    Reaga did not like where this was going.


    He was feared by Olympus.


    But in this moment, he feared his siblings more.


    Ares, still standing awkwardly in the background, observed the entire scene with the most baffled expression.


    He had nearly died.


    He had been humiliated beyond words.


    And yet, the entire room had forgotten him because, apparently, Reaga¡¯s family drama was more important.


    Ares blinked. ¡°¡­Should I leave?¡±


    Nihaga turned to him and flicked his tongue. ¡°Stay. This is the best part.¡±


    The mortals, the king included, were still too overwhelmed to breathe properly, but a few of them had started whispering among themselves.


    ¡°Are gods¡­ always like this?¡±


    Nyssa and Krios took one final step forward.


    Reaga knew defeat when he saw it.


    He sighed. Deeply. Then placed a hand over his heart and lowered his head.


    ¡°Nyssa. Krios. My dearest. My moon and my shadow. My light and my storm. How foolish of me to forget to express my love for you, my treasured siblings.¡±


    They squinted at him.


    Reaga pressed on. ¡°Surely, you know that my heart holds no favorites. That Raezel is my brother, but you¡ªoh, you two¡ªare my soul.¡±


    Nyssa and Krios narrowed their eyes.


    Reaga swallowed. ¡°My¡­ very breath?¡±


    Nyssa raised an eyebrow.


    Reaga panicked.


    ¡°My eternal nightmares?¡±


    Silence.


    Then, Krios grinned.


    Nyssa sighed.


    ¡°¡­Fine.¡±


    Reaga exhaled heavily.


    Ares blinked. ¡°Wait, that¡¯s it? That worked?¡±


    Nyssa turned to him and smiled.


    It was not a friendly smile.


    She took a step closer.


    ¡°Would you like to question it?¡±


    Ares¡ªwho had challenged Medusa¡¯s son and survived by sheer luck¡ª


    Chose wisely for the first time in his life.


    ¡°¡­No.¡±

 Chapter 12

    King Eldors sat upon his throne, his face an intricate mask of contemplation. The mortal ruler of Velmor, a kingdom caught in the crossfire of gods and legends, had seen much in his lifetime.


    But never this.


    In his hall stood Medusa, feared beyond reason. Beside her, her son, Reazel, who had somehow managed to command her favor. Then, there was Nyx, a goddess older than Olympus itself, and her son, Reaga, who had just reduced the God of War to an awkward bystander.


    This was beyond politics. This was beyond war. This was madness.


    And yet, King Eldors knew one thing.


    If he did not secure The Seal from Medusa now, his kingdom was finished.


    Because the moment Raphael left, Ares would return. And next time, he would not come alone.


    So the king, a mere mortal among legends, did what no one expected.


    He spoke.


    ¡°Lady Medusa,¡± Thalarios said, his voice steady despite the storm of power surrounding him. ¡°I must ask you¡­ does Velmor deserve your Seal?¡±


    Reaga, arms crossed, leaned lazily against a marble pillar, his piercing eyes locked onto the mortal king. He looked thoroughly unimpressed.


    ¡°Why even ask for The Seal, Medusa?¡± he said, glancing at his gorgon aunt with an almost playful smirk. ¡°If Brother Reazel wants to live here, just dethrone this mortal and give him the kingdom as a souvenir. Problem solved.¡±


    The air froze.


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    King Eldors¡¯ face drained of color, his lips moving soundlessly like a fish gasping for air. Ares inhaled sharply, clearly offended at how casually Reaga was discussing overthrowing a kingdom¡ªas if it were the price of a meal at a tavern. Even the serpents, who had so far only displayed jealousy or curiosity, paused mid-hiss.


    Reazel pinched the bridge of his nose.


    ¡°Reaga¡ª¡±


    ¡°No, no, hear me out.¡± Reaga raised his hands as if presenting a grand idea. ¡°Think about it, Brother. ''King Raphael of Velmor.'' Doesn¡¯t that sound good? Imagine a throne, a grand feast, a kingdom bowing to you instead of fearing you.¡±


    ¡°Reaga.¡±


    ¡°Come on, it¡¯s not like this mortal is doing a great job. I mean, look at him.¡± Reaga gestured toward Eldors, who was sweating profusely. ¡°Would you trust him to run a kingdom? I wouldn¡¯t trust him to run a bath.¡±


    The king made a choking sound. ¡°I¡ªI can run a bath just fine, thank you!¡±


    Reaga rolled his eyes. ¡°Oh, wonderful, a truly worthy ruler then.¡±


    Ares, who had been quiet, gripping the hilt of his sword in frustration, finally burst out: ¡°You do realize this is still my territory?¡±


    Reaga turned to him, tilting his head. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry, did I offend you? Do you need to run to Zeus for permission to speak?¡±


    Ares growled, stepping forward, but before he could act, Nyx simply lifted a finger. The shadows in the room flickered ominously, and Ares suddenly stopped moving, like a puppet with its strings cut.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± she said softly. The room obeyed.


    Medusa, who had been watching all of this with a half-smile, finally spoke. ¡°Reaga, my dear, you always know how to entertain.¡±


    Reaga grinned. ¡°Only for you, theia.¡±


    Reaga, ¡°But mark my words, Brother¡ªif you leave without The Seal, this king will have a very unpleasant guest when Ares inevitably returns.¡±


    The king stiffened.


    The entire hall fell into silence.


    Medusa studied King Eldors with a gaze that could have turned a lesser man to stone.


    Then, slowly, she spoke.


    ¡°You dare ask for The Seal?¡±


    Eldors did not look away.


    ¡°I do.¡±


    Medusa¡¯s serpents hissed, curling around her shoulders. The weight of eternity bore down upon the king, but still, he did not falter.


    Nyx watched with mild amusement.


    Reazel, however, was impressed.


    And then¡ª


    Medusa smiled.


    It was not cruel. Not mocking.


    It was genuine.


    ¡°Very well.¡± She stepped forward. ¡°Tell me, King of Velmor¡­ why should I grant you my favor?¡±


    Now, everything depended on his answer.

 Chapter 13

    The weight of Medusa¡¯s words hung in the air like a storm waiting to break.


    Even the ever-playful Reaga paused, his smirk faltering for just a moment. Ares, still seething from being made a mere spectator in his own domain, crossed his arms but said nothing.


    King Eldors, on the other hand, looked like a man who had just realized he was standing on thin ice¡ªwith a gorgon, a god, and the literal personification of night staring at him.


    He thought. He thought of every possible answer, every argument he could make to convince Medusa.


    Velmor had endured wars¡ªsurely, that proved its strength?


    But Medusa¡¯s army had never known defeat. Compared to her, Velmor was nothing.


    Velmor had survived under Ares'' rule¡ªsurely, that proved its resilience?


    But Medusa had suffered far worse than Ares and risen. Compared to her, Velmor was insignificant.


    Velmor had never raised arms against her¡ªsurely, that proved its loyalty?


    But loyalty born of fear was no loyalty at all.


    And then, finally¡ª


    The realization settled like a stone sinking to the depths of the sea.


    There was nothing he could say.


    Nothing that could make Velmor worthy of The Seal of Medusa.


    A soft chuckle broke the silence.


    ¡°Looks like the great King Eldors has no answer.¡±


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    Nyssa¡¯s voice was light, almost amused¡ªbut her eyes gleamed like sharpened daggers.


    Krios leaned back lazily against a column, arms crossed. "Should we give him more time? Maybe a century or two?"


    Nihaga smirked. "It¡¯s almost endearing, really. Look at him, searching for words like a drowning man reaching for a branch."


    Reaga tilted his head, his dark gaze flickering with amusement. ¡°If he takes any longer, I might start feeling bad for him.¡±


    The king did not speak.


    He could not.


    Raezel inhaled deeply. Then, after a moment¡ª


    ¡°Mother,¡± he said, voice steady. ¡°You were once a victim of the gods¡¯ cruelty. We should not let the same fate befall Velmor, a kingdom that does not deserve it.¡±


    Medusa¡¯s gaze was unreadable.


    "They are afraid," Raezel continued. "Who wouldn¡¯t be? The Queen of the Cursed, the Goddess of the Night, and the God of War stand before them, deciding their fate. But fear does not make them unworthy."


    Reaga groaned. ¡°Ugh, you¡¯re making this sound all noble. I was just going to say we take the throne and call it a day.¡±


    Medusa¡¯s golden eyes gleamed. ¡°You always were a fool for the weak.¡±


    But her voice was not cruel.


    There was something almost fond in it.


    Raezel smiled. "A fool who learned from the strongest."


    The room stilled.


    Nyx tilted her head, watching Medusa carefully.


    She knew Medusa well¡ªMedusa-by-circumstance. A Medusa who did not grant favors freely. A Medusa who knew the weight of debt and the price of mercy.


    And yet¡ª


    ¡°Very well.¡±


    The air shifted.


    The very walls of the hall seemed to tremble. The torches flickered violently, and golden energy rippled outward from Medusa¡¯s form. Her eyes glowed like molten fire, and the weight of her power sank into the bones of every living thing in the room.


    The Blessing of Medusa had begun.


    But something lingered in the air¡ªan unspoken truth.


    Was Medusa truly granting The Seal freely to velmor?


    And if so¡­


    Why?

 Chapter 14

    The moment Medusa spoke, the air thickened with raw power. The walls of the great hall trembled, as if the very foundation of Velmor itself recognized that history was being rewritten.


    Golden energy rippled outward from Medusa, moving in slow, deliberate waves. Not rushed, not hesitant¡ªinevitable. Her serpents hissed, their voices merging into a sound that was neither words nor whispers, but something in between.


    The Seal was forming.


    Ares, now fully aware of the weight of his mistake, stood rigid, his fists clenched at his sides. He was not foolish enough to challenge Medusa¡¯s will a second time.


    poor Eldors¡ªlooked both honored and terrified. His kingdom was on the brink of something monumental, yet a single, unspoken question clawed at the back of his mind:


    Would there be a price?


    Because no power¡ªespecially one as ancient as Medusa¡¯s¡ªcame without cost.


    Medusa raised a single hand. The golden energy swirling in the air twisted, coiling into an ethereal sigil hovering between her and the king¡ªa divine contract, binding and absolute.


    And then, she spoke.


    ¡°From now, Velmor will be protected under my name.¡±


    King Eldors nearly collapsed in relief. Ares exhaled, looking away. Even Nyx, an amused spectator until now, tilted her head with intrigue.


    But Medusa wasn¡¯t finished.


    She turned to Raezel, her glowing eyes locked onto his. She let the silence stretch for just a moment longer, her smile sharpening at the edges.


    ¡°You would defend these mortals, my son?¡±


    Raezel met her gaze without hesitation. ¡°I would.¡±


    Medusa¡¯s smile deepened. Sharp. Knowing.


    ¡°Then you shall.¡±


    The sigil flared brighter, hotter, pulsing with ancient power. The golden light crackled, shifting¡ªnot just binding Velmor to Medusa, but something else entirely.


    And then¡ª


    It vanished.


    The Seal was set.


    King Eldors exhaled sharply, his legs trembling beneath him. Velmor had been saved.


    But then¡ª


    Nythren snorted.


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait. That¡¯s the deal?¡± He grinned, looking between Medusa and Raezel. ¡°Oh, brother. You don¡¯t even know what just happened, do you?¡±


    Raezel frowned. ¡°What?¡±


    Nythren pointed at him. ¡°You.¡± Then at the king. ¡°And you.¡± Then back to Raezel. ¡°Congratulations. You¡¯re now the official, undeniable, appointed guardian of this entire kingdom.¡±


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    Silence.


    Raezel blinked. ¡°Wait, what?¡±


    Eldors whipped his head toward Medusa. ¡°What!?¡±


    Medusa simply smiled. A mother¡¯s smile. The kind that made it very, very clear that her son had just walked into a carefully placed trap.


    Nyx chuckled, covering her mouth with one elegant hand. ¡°Oh, this is delightful.¡±


    Nythren threw an arm around Raezel¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Brother, you really should¡¯ve asked for details first.¡±


    Ares grinned for the first time in what felt like ages. ¡°Serves you right.¡±


    Raezel turned to his mother, betrayal in his eyes. ¡°You tricked me.¡±


    Medusa simply raised an eyebrow. ¡°I made you responsible.¡±


    Eldors, who had been on the verge of a nervous breakdown mere moments ago, suddenly looked much, much happier.


    ¡°Oh! Yes, yes, I see now. Wonderful! Raezel, our eternal guardian! We shall build a statue in your honor! Many statues, in fact! Let us begin immediately¡ª¡±


    Raezel buried his face in his hands. ¡°I hate everything.¡±


    Nythren cackled. Nyx was still chuckling. Ares? Smug.


    Nythren smirked wider, his tone dripping with amusement. ¡°Oh, and don¡¯t think you can run, brother. A divine contract isn¡¯t something you can just walk away from. The moment this kingdom is in danger? The Seal will call for you.¡±


    Raezel groaned, realization fully setting in. ¡°Of course it will.¡±


    Far from the gilded halls of Velmor, where gods and legends played their games, another battle was being waged at the Borders of Velmor. One of blood, steel, and survival.


    The battlefield was a sea of chaos.


    Velmor''s warriors, outnumbered a hundred to one, clashed against the might of Xandria¡ªan empire forged in blood and conquest, its name spoken in whispers across the mortal realm. A nation so ruthless, so absolute, that kingdoms did not fight it¡ªthey surrendered. The sky was thick with the smoke of burning banners, the ground soaked in blood, and the screams of the dying echoed across the valley.


    The Xandrian soldiers fought like a tidal wave, merciless and unrelenting. Their war machines rained fire, their cavalry trampled through the ranks of Velmor¡¯s defenders. It was not a battle. It was a massacre.


    Velmor''s soldiers fought bravely, but they knew the truth.


    They will fall today.


    Commander Daelus, one of Velmor¡¯s strongest warriors, wiped blood from his brow and looked toward the horizon.


    No reinforcements. No miracles.


    Velmor was alone.


    And then¡ª


    The battlefield¡­ shifted. Not by man. Not by strategy. But by something far older. Far greater.


    At first, it was just a shiver. A faint tremor across their skin. Then¡ªheat. Blazing, searing heat.


    One by one, the Velmorian soldiers gasped, clutching their arms, their chests, their faces. Their breath hitched.


    And then¡ªthe marks appeared.


    Glowing, twisting serpent insignias burned into their flesh. Some on their arms, some across their chests, some along their faces. A mark of protection.


    The Xandrian warriors hesitated.


    Then, they started to notice something was¡­ wrong.


    Velmor¡¯s warriors stood taller.


    Their wounds? Sealing.


    Their exhaustion? Gone.


    Their fear? Erased.


    Commander Daelus flexed his fingers. No pain. No exhaustion. No fear. He clenched his fist. Power surged beneath his skin.


    He looked up¡ªinto the eyes of his soldiers. He saw it there, too. That same realization.


    They had become something else.


    The Xandrian general, a warlord who had conquered over fifty kingdoms, watched in growing horror. His warriors, trained from birth, were now falling to mere farmers and foot soldiers.


    He had seen war in all its forms.


    But never this.


    And then¡ªhe saw her.


    A vision. A nightmare. A woman with serpent hair and eyes that burned through the soul.


    Medusa.


    And in that moment, he knew.


    They were fighting against the will of a Queen, one known and feared across realms.


    Victory was no longer a question.


    Only the number of bodies it would take to end this war.

 Chapter 15

    The battlefield was no longer a war zone¡ªit was a slaughterhouse. A cursed land where death was not the end, but a lingering, torturous whisper that refused to fade.


    Velmor''s soldiers, battered and exhausted just moments ago, now fought like rabid beasts set free from their chains. Their blades did not simply cut; they tore through flesh, ripped through bone. They did not feel the weight of their armor, the ache of past wounds¡ªonly an insatiable need to kill.


    They should have been dead. They knew they should have been dead. But they were not. Instead, they were reborn in a way that defied reason. Their wounds had vanished, their lungs burned not with fatigue, but fury¡ªa primal, relentless rage that turned the once-struggling warriors into something else.


    Daelus, his sword slick with gore, barely recognized his own men. They did not hesitate. They did not flinch. They struck down the enemy with unnatural precision, unholy strength. One of his soldiers, a boy no older than eighteen, gutted a Xandrian warrior and stared at the crimson-stained steel in his hands¡ªnot with horror, but with grim understanding. Another, his breath heavy with adrenaline, drove his blade into a fallen enemy and only then seemed to realize he was still moving before his mind could even process it. Something inside them had changed.


    And the worst part?


    They did not resist it.


    The Xandrians¡ªthe proud, undefeated Xandrians¡ªwere breaking. They had come to Velmor expecting another glorious conquest, another kingdom to be razed beneath their boots.


    Instead, they had walked into a nightmare that would not let them wake.


    Screams filled the air¡ªnot the cries of men in battle, but the wailing of dying animals. Some Xandrians tried to run, but the ground was slick with blood, with the torn-apart remnants of their fallen. They slipped, crawling on hands and knees, leaving streaks of red behind them. Begging. Pleading. Praying. But the gods would not answer. The gods could not save them now.


    The Xandrian general¡ªthe warlord who had conquered over fifty kingdoms¡ªstood frozen. His hands trembled, his lips parted, but no words came.


    This is not happening.


    It cannot be happening.


    His army, his unstoppable army, was not just losing¡ªit was being erased. It was a feeling so alien, so incomprehensible, that his mind refused to accept it. Had the gods abandoned him? Or worse¡ªhad they never truly been on his side at all?


    He tried to speak, to command his soldiers to regroup, to hold the line¡ªbut when he turned to them, he saw only broken men. Warriors who had once stood unshaken against the greatest of foes, now whispering prayers not for victory¡ªbut for their lives.


    Then, the warlord saw her.


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    A vision. A nightmare. A queen.


    Medusa.


    Her gaze alone was enough to send entire battalions into disarray. His heart pounded, his chest tightened. How?


    A moment ago, they had won.


    And now¡ª


    They were the ones being butchered.


    The soldiers around him, men who had once stood unshaken against the greatest of warriors, were crying. Some dropped their weapons, falling to their knees in surrender, in desperation, in prayer. Others simply stood there, numb, watching as their brothers-in-arms were ripped apart, their deaths nothing more than fleeting moments in a massacre.


    The warlord clenched his fists. He wanted to scream at them, to command them to fight, but the words never came.


    Because he knew.


    They were fighting against the will of a Queen.


    One known and feared across realms.


    Victory was no longer a question.


    Only the number of bodies it would take to end this war.


    And Xandria¡¯s army was running out of bodies.


    Back in Velmor, within the grand halls of the castle, King Eldors¡ªwho had once been skeptical, who had once feared the unknown power of the gods¡ªnow sat frozen upon his throne. His fingers dug into the armrests, his breath shallow. He had just witnessed the impossible.


    "This is..." he whispered, barely able to form the words. His voice was hollow, lost in the enormity of what had unfolded.


    Across the hall, Ares remained standing, arms crossed, golden eyes locked onto nothing in particular. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken truths. Then¡ª


    Ares tilted his head slightly, a cruel smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Fools."


    The word was not loud, but it cut through the room like a blade.


    He exhaled, shaking his head. "They should have known. They should have understood the moment those soldiers rose again with Medusa¡¯s mark burning into their flesh." His gaze darkened. "That was the time to kneel. To beg. To plead for mercy. But instead, they chose to fight."


    A sharp smirk followed. "They deserve everything that¡¯s coming to them."


    The soldiers of Velmor still stood in stunned silence, hands flexing, tracing the glowing marks on their skin¡ªnot in fear, but in awe. They did not recoil from them. They did not seek to rid themselves of them. The power running through their veins, the newfound strength¡ªthe intoxicating rush of being chosen¡ªit was real. Permanent.


    Some of them trembled, uncertain. Others grinned, eyes alight with something almost feral. Something had changed within them.


    But Ares knew what it meant to fight in Medusa¡¯s name.


    King Eldors swallowed, his throat dry. He understood. He just couldn¡¯t say it aloud.


    Because Velmor was no longer just a small, fragile kingdom caught in the tides of war.


    It was now under the direct protection of one of the most feared beings in existence.


    And that meant one thing.


    Victory was no longer a possibility.


    It was a certainty.


    Ares let out a slow breath, his smirk fading just slightly. His gaze flickered toward the battlefield, toward the dying wails of Xandria¡¯s once-proud warriors, and then back to Medusa¡¯s mark upon the Velmorian soldiers.


    "I have waged wars across eternity," he muttered, voice lower than before. "But this? This was not war."


    His fists clenched. His eyes gleamed with something unreadable.


    "This was judgment."

 Chapter 16

    The battlefield was silent.


    Not the silence of peace. Not the silence of retreat.


    But the silence of absolute inevitability.


    The war had already ended. It had ended the moment she arrived.


    Medusa and Raezel stood at the edge of the massacre, watching without emotion. She did not move. She did not command. She did not need to.


    Her will alone had decided the outcome.


    Then¡ªshe tilted her head ever so slightly, her golden eyes gleaming like molten fire.


    "My son wishes to protect these mortals."


    Her voice was soft. Almost contemplative.


    Then, a smile¡ªa slow, deliberate thing that carried with it the weight of doom itself.


    "Then let them be protected."


    The moment she spoke, the battlefield reacted.


    The snake marks carved into the flesh of Velmor¡¯s soldiers ignited, burning with golden energy. Their breath hitched. Their vision sharpened. The pain of war, the weight of exhaustion¡ªall of it vanished.


    And then¡ª


    They moved.


    Faster. Stronger. Merciless.


    The Xandrian soldiers still standing¡­ they were no longer warriors. They were victims.


    Some of them turned to flee¡ªonly to slip on the entrails of their fallen comrades. Others dropped their weapons, falling to their knees, sobbing. Their curses had long since faded into whimpers. Their defiance had been torn from them like flesh from bone.


    But the war was not yet over.


    Because Velmor¡¯s soldiers had learned something valuable that day.


    Death was a gift.


    And gifts were not meant to be handed out so easily.


    The Ace Warriors. Xandria¡¯s finest.


    These were not mere soldiers. They were legends¡ª


    Handpicked from birth. Honed through decades of war. Trained to be the last, unstoppable force of conquest.


    They did not fight battles.


    They ended them.


    When their armies faltered, they charged. When the enemy thought they had won, the Ace Warriors arrived to rip victory from their hands and carve Xandria¡¯s name into history.


    But today¡ª


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    Today, they were not the conquerors.


    Today, they were the ones staring into the abyss.


    They did not stand as victors.


    They stood in horror.


    Watching as their men were **skinned alive¡ª**left screaming, their exposed flesh raw beneath the open air.


    Watching as warriors who once crushed empires collapsed, sobbing, clutching at their own faces, unable to comprehend the nightmare unfolding before them.


    Watching as death became a mercy.


    They had never known fear.


    But now¡ª


    Their hands shook. Their weapons felt heavier. Their instincts, once sharpened to kill without hesitation, failed them.


    One of them¡ªone of the finest warriors Xandria had ever produced¡ªstepped forward.


    His grip tightened around his sword, his breath came in short, shallow bursts. No. This wasn¡¯t over. He had trained for this. He had ended wars.


    He charged.


    Then¡ª


    He was on the ground.


    He didn¡¯t know how. He didn¡¯t know when.


    He was just there.


    Looking up into the eyes of a Velmorian soldier who should have been dead¡ª


    And seeing nothing human left inside them.


    The Ace Warriors had never understood despair.


    Now, they were living it.


    One by one, they fell.


    One by one, they were reduced to sobbing, broken husks.


    One by one, they learned what it meant to truly suffer.


    The last to fall was Xandria¡¯s commander.


    A man who had led fifty wars. A man who had never tasted defeat.


    He did not fight.


    He did not command.


    He ran.


    He ran through the blood-soaked fields of his fallen empire. He did not look back. He could not.


    Because he knew.


    The gods had abandoned him.


    Or worse¡ª


    They had never been on his side to begin with.


    The silence in the throne room was deafening.


    Medusa stood motionless, bathed in the flickering sunlight, her expression unreadable.


    Raezel, by her side, turned to her, his golden eyes filled with something unreadable.


    ¡°I have never seen you fight, Mother.¡±


    The air stopped moving.


    Somewhere in the shadows, Nyx smiled.


    Nythren chuckled, stepping forward, his dark presence spreading like ink in water. ¡°Oh, brother,¡± he mused, tilting his head. ¡°Do you truly wish to witness such a thing?¡±


    Then¡ª


    A shout.


    ¡°STOP IT!¡±


    Ares moved first.


    He did not hesitate. His body lunged forward, arms outstretched, his once-mighty frame now reduced to something frantic.


    His voice cracked. Not the voice of a war god¡ª


    But the voice of a man on the brink of madness.


    The hall turned toward him in shock.


    Ares¡¯ breath came in ragged gasps. His body trembled, his eyes quivered. He shook his head violently, his fingers digging into the stone floor beneath him.


    ¡°We¡¯re doomed,¡± he whispered.


    Silence.


    And then¡ª


    A smirk.


    Medusa¡¯s.


    Ares¡¯ golden eyes locked onto hers, and in that moment¡ª


    His soul shattered.


    He fell to his knees. His entire body collapsed under the weight of what he saw¡ªnot Medusa the woman, not Medusa the warrior¡ª


    But Medusa the inevitability.


    A force so beyond war, beyond gods, that resistance was not even a question.


    Ares had waged wars across eternity.


    He had conquered. He had slaughtered. He had ruined.


    But this?


    This was not war.


    This was judgment.


    And Medusa?


    She simply watched.


    Amused.

 Chapter 17

    The entire hall stood frozen after hearing Reazel¡¯s wish.


    The mighty God of War, Ares¡ªson of Zeus, the relentless warrior, the unshakable force of Olympus¡ªwas now kneeling.


    His body trembled. His fingers clenched against the cold stone floor.


    He was not simply afraid.


    No.


    He had just foreseen his own death.


    All it took was one smirk from Medusa.


    And in that moment, Ares knew¡ªdeep in his godly bones¡ªthat if she truly engaged in battle, there would be no war.


    Only annihilation.


    Reazel watched his mother with admiration, his golden eyes burning with something that was not fear, but pride.


    Nythren, however?


    He grinned. A full, wolfish, predatory grin.


    "Now, this is interesting," he said, crossing his arms. His abyssal gaze flickered down to Ares, watching the god crumble further into his own despair. "You really are pathetic, aren¡¯t you?"


    Ares didn¡¯t respond. He was too busy reliving the nightmares of every war he had ever fought¡ªrealizing how insignificant they were compared to the wrath Medusa could unleash.


    But Reazel, still watching his mother, spoke again.


    "I wish to see you fight, Mother."


    Ares gasped. His hands gripped the floor tighter.


    Nythren¡¯s grin widened. "I second that. I mean, wouldn¡¯t it be fun, The¨ªa?"


    Medusa tilted her head, her gaze shifting between the two of them. She wasn¡¯t offended.


    No.


    She was considering it.


    Ares saw it.


    And it broke him.


    His head snapped up, his wild eyes locking onto Reazel and Nythren.


    "YOU TWO MANIACS! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU¡¯RE ASKING FOR?!"


    Reazel turned to him, unbothered. "Yes."


    "NO, YOU DON¡¯T!" Ares staggered to his feet, nearly losing his balance. He pointed at Medusa, his hand shaking violently. "DO YOU THINK SHE NEEDS A WAR TO DESTROY A KINGDOM? A COUNTRY? A CONTINENT?! DO YOU EVEN KNOW¡ª"


    Ares suddenly stopped.


    His entire body locked up.


    Because Medusa¡­ was staring at him.


    Her sharp, knowing gaze cut through his soul like a blade dipped in poison.


    Ares'' throat closed.


    His breathing grew shallow.


    And then¡ªshe smiled.


    A simple, soft, almost mocking smile.


    Ares felt something inside him snap.


    His heart pounded in his chest, his mind spiraling into pure, unfiltered panic.


    "F-Fine," he stammered, backing away. "You win. I-I won¡¯t say another word."


    Nythren raised an eyebrow. "That was quick."


    Ares didn¡¯t care.


    He just wanted to leave this place alive.


    Reazel, still standing beside his mother, smirked slightly before looking back at her. "So, will you fight, Mother?"


    Medusa didn¡¯t answer immediately. Instead, she lifted a hand, lightly tracing her fingers along the stone pillar.


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    Then, finally, she spoke.


    "Why do you wish for such destruction, my son?"


    Her voice was gentle. Almost too gentle.


    Reazel¡¯s smirk faded slightly. He lowered his gaze in thought.


    "I do not wish for destruction," he said. "I simply want the world to remember that you are not just a tale whispered in fear."


    Medusa studied him for a long moment. Then, she turned to Nythren.


    "And you?"


    Nythren chuckled. "Oh, I just want to see Ares wet himself."


    Ares'' face drained of all color.


    Medusa hummed. "I see."


    Ares instinctively flinched.


    The King of Velmor, who had remained terrified and silent throughout this entire conversation, suddenly felt his entire body grow cold.


    Because at that moment, he realized¡ªshe was actually considering it.


    And if Medusa truly entered the battlefield¡­


    It would not be a war.


    It would be a massacre.


    Ares swallowed hard, his mind racing for a way to stop this madness.


    No god, no mortal, no fool in history had ever dared to willingly push Medusa into battle.


    And yet, here were two absolute lunatics¡ªReazel and Nythren¡ªcheerfully encouraging it.


    Ares, desperate, turned to the King of Velmor.


    "Say something, you idiot!" he hissed. "This is your kingdom! Do you have a death wish?!"


    The king¡ªpoor, unfortunate fool that he was¡ªhad completely shut down.


    His soul had already left his body.


    His brain refused to function.


    What could he possibly say?!


    One moment, he was dealing with a god who wanted to kill him. The next, he had Medusa, her terrifying son, and the Prince of Darkness standing in his throne room.


    And now?


    Now, they were casually discussing whether or not to unleash a literal nightmare onto the world.


    What was he supposed to do?! Object?!


    He looked at Ares, eyes wide with fear, before shaking his head slightly. He had no words. No thoughts. No hope.


    Ares felt despair creeping in.


    This was it.


    This was how he died.


    Not in battle.


    Not at the hands of some mighty hero.


    But because two lunatics with no sense of self-preservation had decided it would be funny to test Medusa¡¯s patience.


    He took a deep breath. There was only one thing left to do.


    He turned to Medusa.


    Dropped to both knees.


    Pressed his forehead to the cold stone floor.


    And in a voice filled with pure, unfiltered terror, he whispered:


    "Please¡­ don¡¯t."


    The entire room fell silent.


    Nythren blinked. "Wow."


    Reazel sighed. "Ares, you¡¯re being dramatic."


    Ares snapped his head up.


    "DRAMATIC?!" he roared. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT SHE CAN DO?! WHAT SHE WILL DO?!"


    Reazel raised an eyebrow. "We do. And?"


    Ares¡¯ eyes twitched.


    His hands shook.


    "You little¡ª"


    Medusa suddenly chuckled.


    Ares froze.


    The air itself grew heavier.


    Everyone turned to her, watching as she stepped forward, her gaze flicking between her son and the terrified God of War.


    Then, she sighed.


    "Very well," she said softly. "I will not fight."


    Ares collapsed.


    Literally.


    His body just gave up and he sank onto the floor, exhausted from sheer panic.


    Nythren groaned. "No fun."


    Medusa hummed. "You should know better than to tempt me, my son."


    Reazel chuckled. "I was curious."


    Medusa gave him a knowing look. "And yet, you already have your answer."


    Reazel¡¯s smile faltered.


    Ares was still recovering.


    Nythren was pouting.


    The King of Velmor?


    He had seen enough.


    He took a deep breath.


    And then¡ªhe knelt before Medusa.


    "My Queen."


    Ares nearly choked.


    Nythren laughed.


    Reazel just smiled.


    And Medusa?


    She simply raised an eyebrow.


    She then turned to her son.


    And in a voice that shook the heavens, she declared:


    "From this day forward, Velmor shall be under my protection. Let those who dare challenge it suffer the consequences."

 Chapter 18

    Medusa¡¯s gaze sharpened as it locked onto Nyx.


    ¡°Nyx, why are you and Nythren here?¡±


    Her voice remained calm, but there was an unmistakable edge beneath it.


    Nyx, the Primordial Goddess of the Night, simply smiled¡ªthat timeless, knowing smile, one laced with amusement and wisdom forged over centuries.


    Nythren sighed dramatically. ¡°I told you she¡¯d figure it out, Mother.¡±


    Nyx ignored him.


    ¡°The real question, Medusa, is why wouldn¡¯t we be here?¡±


    Raezel took a step forward, his golden eyes unwavering.


    ¡°That is not an answer,¡± he said, his tone firm. ¡°You arrived just after we stepped into Velmor, and just before my mother granted its blessing. That is no coincidence.¡±


    Nyx¡¯s smile remained, unreadable.


    ¡°No,¡± she admitted smoothly. ¡°It is not.¡±


    The room tensed. Even Ares, who had been trying to recover from the mental and emotional trauma caused by these two lunatic brothers, leaned in, suddenly more attentive.


    Nyx lifted a hand, and with the subtlest motion, the shadows in the hall shifted¡ªtwisting, bending¡ªas though reality itself wavered in her presence.


    ¡°Do you truly believe,¡± she said lightly, ¡°that I would allow Nythren to walk into a battlefield without reason?¡±


    Nythren smirked. ¡°Wait, are you saying you actually care?¡±


    Nyx pinched his cheek.


    ¡°Don¡¯t get cocky, child.¡±


    Nythren swatted her hand away, muttering, ¡°Unbelievable.¡±


    But Raezel wasn¡¯t distracted by their antics. His golden gaze bore into Nyx.


    ¡°You¡¯re here because of something else.¡±


    For the first time, Nyx¡¯s amusement dimmed. The weight of her presence seemed heavier, her gaze shifting toward Medusa.


    ¡°Medusa,¡± she said, her voice quieter now, ¡°the moment you stepped into Velmor¡ªthe exact moment something changed.¡±


    The air in the room grew thicker.


    A pause.


    It was slight¡ªso slight that none but the most perceptive would notice¡ªbut Medusa did react. A single flicker in her expression, a nearly imperceptible shift in her gaze.


    Whatever Nyx was hinting at¡ªshe felt it too.


    Nythren folded his arms. ¡°So, you felt it too.¡±


    Ares frowned. ¡°Felt what?¡±


    Raezel exhaled slowly. The weight of Nyx¡¯s words pressed down on him, but it wasn¡¯t just her words. It was something else. Something wrong.


    The air around him felt heavier now, almost¡­ thicker.


    His heartbeat quickened.


    The walls of the hall, solid and unmoving, suddenly felt too still. The torches flickered, their flames stretching unnaturally high for a brief moment before settling back down.


    And then¡ªRaezel realized.


    It was not just the room that had changed. It was the world itself.


    Something had awakened.


    His breath caught in his throat. His fingers twitched at his sides.


    ¡°What did we awaken?¡±


    Nyx¡¯s eyes darkened.


    ¡°Something old,¡± she murmured. ¡°Something that was never meant to wake.¡±


    The weight of her words pressed into the room, sending an eerie silence through the air.


    Ares finally lost it.


    ¡°Okay, ENOUGH!¡± He threw his hands in the air, eyes wild with frustration. ¡°First, I nearly died. Then, these two maniacs tried to convince Medusa to join a battle. Now you¡¯re telling me there¡¯s something waking up?! CAN I PLEASE GET A MOMENT TO PROCESS?!¡±


    Nyx tilted her head.


    ¡°No.¡±


    Ares groaned and collapsed onto the floor.


    Meanwhile, Medusa exhaled slowly. ¡°So. What awakened this time?¡±


    Nyx didn¡¯t answer immediately.


    Raezel¡¯s breath hitched. A slow, creeping unease curled in his stomach, his fingers flexing at his sides. The weight of something ancient pressed against his senses, and for the first time in a long while¡­


    He wasn¡¯t sure if even Medusa could stop it.


    Then, Nyx exhaled, her gaze drifting toward the ceiling, as if peering beyond time itself.


    "A force that predates Olympus," she murmured. "A force that even the Titans feared."


    Nythren¡¯s smirk faltered. "Mother¡­ that sounds suspiciously bad."


    Ares sat up abruptly. His voice was sharp, bordering on hysteria. "Predates Olympus?! That¡¯s not possible! The Titans ruled before us, and before them, there was only Chaos!"


    Nyx met his gaze, calm. Unshaken. "Precisely."


    A single beat of silence stretched, heavier than stone.


    Even Medusa¡ªthe Gorgon who had once stood against gods and kings¡ªtightened her fingers slightly. A near-invisible shift, but for those who knew her, it was enough.


    She spoke, her voice quieter than before. "You mean¡­"


    Nyx nodded. "Yes. Something from the age of Chaos stirs."


    Ares immediately sprang to his feet. "WELL, WE¡¯RE DEAD. I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN. I KNEW FOLLOWING THESE LUNATICS WAS A TERRIBLE IDEA!"


    Reaga snorted. "I love how you''re only realizing this now."


    Ares whirled on him. "YOU''RE NOT HELPING!"


    Reazel ignored them. His golden eyes sharpened, locked onto his mother. "Do you know what it is?"


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    Medusa didn¡¯t answer immediately. She stood very still.


    Then, finally¡ª"No."


    Nyx stepped forward. The torches flickered and dimmed, as if the very concept of light was withdrawing in her presence.


    "The moment you placed your blessing upon Velmor," she said, "a ripple echoed through existence. Something that had been sleeping for millennia¡­ awoke. I felt it." Her gaze darkened. "And I was not the only one."


    Ares groaned, rubbing his temples aggressively. "Oh, wonderful. More divine horrors. What¡¯s next? The Primordial Darkness itself? Some forgotten entity that eats gods for breakfast?"


    Nyx smirked. "Perhaps."


    Ares went completely pale.


    Nythren, meanwhile, seemed thoroughly unbothered. "So what? We deal with it. I¡¯m the creation of darkness itself, Reazel is the son of Medusa. Between the two of them, what could possibly¡ª"


    The ground beneath them trembled violently.


    Not like an earthquake. No.


    Something deeper. Something wrong.


    The air itself distorted¡ªas if reality had just been punched.


    And then¡ª


    A sound.


    A sound that did not belong to this world.


    It wasn¡¯t a roar. It wasn¡¯t a scream. It was something else entirely¡ªan absence of sound so vast it left an echo of emptiness in its wake.


    The warriors of Velmor¡ªstill standing outside with their newfound blessing¡ªdropped to their knees. Clutching their heads. Gasping.


    And then, the sky tore open.


    A single, jagged black rift split across the heavens, a wound in reality itself.


    From it¡ªa voice.


    Ancient. Formless. Vast.


    "WHO¡­ DARES¡­ DISTURB ME?"


    Nythren sighed. "Well, there goes my peaceful afternoon."


    Ares, meanwhile?


    Screamed internally.


    Nyx stood still, her presence making the torches flicker unnaturally, as if even fire itself feared what was about to be spoken.


    She folded her arms and said, "What is the most powerful creation?"


    Nythren smirked. "The Creation of Darkness itself, Me and The Son Medusa, My Brother Reazel."


    Ares immediately choked. "Are you two insane? No, it¡¯s the ¡°Reality¡± itself! And for the love of Olympus, can you both stop acting like you¡¯re the pinnacle of power? There are forces beyond you!"


    Reaga leaned against the wall, bored. "I don¡¯t believe that."


    Ares pointed dramatically. "THAT ATTITUDE RIGHT THERE IS WHY WE¡¯RE ALWAYS IN TROUBLE!"


    Reazel  raised an eyebrow. "Then tell us, God of War¡ªwhat is more powerful?"


    Ares exhaled, his usual arrogance completely gone. "Barmigia."


    The air around them froze.


    Even Medusa, unshaken by gods, flinched.


    Nyx closed her eyes. "Even I dare not speak its name lightly."


    The room felt heavier. The mere mention of that name seemed to warp reality itself.


    Reaga frowned. "Why? What is it?"


    Ares looked at him, and for the first time, there was no anger, no rivalry¡ªjust fear.


    "A living storm," he said, his voice almost a whisper. "It isn''t just a calamity. It destroys¡­ reality itself. The gods, the titans, even the primordial beings¡ªwe all fear it. Because when Barmigia moves, even existence itself trembles."


    Raphael¡¯s eyes narrowed. "You mean¡­ nothing can stop it?"


    Nyx spoke, her voice grim. "No. Because it doesn¡¯t just consume¡­ it erases. It is not destruction. It is the end."


    Nythren scoffed, but his usual cocky tone wasn¡¯t there. "So, you¡¯re telling me this thing destroys reality itself? That¡¯s ridiculous."


    Ares glared at him. "Then don¡¯t believe it. But if you ever see the sky crack open, if you ever hear the sound of the storm without wind¡ªrun. Because when Barmigia comes¡­ there is no after."


    A deep silence followed.


    Then, as if responding to the words, a distant rumble shook the earth.


    Ares immediately turned pale.


    "No. No, no, no, NO! THAT WASN¡¯T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!"


    The walls of the hall trembled. The warriors of Velmor outside felt an unnatural chill crawl up their spines, now looking to the sky¡ªhorrified.


    Because above them, the clouds had begun to twist.


    Not like a normal storm. No thunder, no lightning. Just an unnatural, silent churning.


    Like reality itself was being pulled apart.


    Nyx opened her eyes, her pupils glowing like dying stars.


    "It¡¯s coming."


    Nythren crossed his arms. "Oh, fantastic. We awakened something that destroys reality itself. Ares, I take back everything I said¡ªyou were actually right for once."


    Ares wasn¡¯t listening. He already accepts its fate.


    Nyx stood still, her presence making the torches flicker unnaturally, as if even fire itself feared what was about to be spoken.


    She folded her arms and spoke, her voice carrying the weight of something ancient.


    "What is the most powerful creation?"


    Nythren smirked. "The creation of darkness itself¡ªme. And the son of Medusa, my brother, Reazel."


    Ares immediately choked on air. "Are you two insane?! No, it¡¯s reality itself! And for the love of Olympus, can you both stop acting like you¡¯re the pinnacle of power?! There are forces beyond you!"


    Reaga leaned against the wall, unimpressed. "I don¡¯t believe that."


    Ares pointed dramatically, his eye twitching. "THAT ATTITUDE RIGHT THERE IS WHY WE¡¯RE ALWAYS IN TROUBLE!"


    Reazel raised an eyebrow. "Then tell us, God of War¡ªwhat is more powerful?"


    Ares exhaled, his usual arrogance gone. His voice lowered.


    "Barmigia."


    The air changed.


    The temperature dropped. A silence too heavy, too unnatural, fell over the room.


    Even Medusa, unshaken by gods, tensed¡ªjust slightly. Her serpents shifted, their hissing quieter now. Nyx closed her eyes.


    When she finally spoke, her voice was softer, but more dangerous.


    "Even I dare not speak its name lightly."


    The walls felt smaller. The room itself, a structure built to withstand gods, felt¡­ fragile.


    Reaga frowned. "Why? What is it?"


    Ares looked at him, and for the first time, there was no arrogance. No defiance. Just fear.


    His voice was almost a whisper. "A living storm."


    Reaga¡¯s smirk faded.


    Ares continued, his tone hollow. "It isn''t just a calamity. It doesn¡¯t destroy lands or cities. It doesn¡¯t bring ruin like fire or flood."


    His golden eyes darkened.


    "It erases reality itself."


    The silence deepened.


    Nyx¡¯s voice carried across the still air. "It is not destruction. It is the end."


    Reazel¡¯s golden eyes sharpened. "You mean¡­ nothing can stop it?"


    Nyx did not answer immediately.


    Then¡ª"No."


    Nythren scoffed, but there was no confidence in it. "So, you¡¯re telling me this thing erases reality itself? That¡¯s ridiculous."


    Ares¡¯ hands curled into fists. His breathing was too shallow. His pulse too fast.


    "Then don¡¯t believe it." His voice trembled, just slightly. "But if you ever see the sky crack open¡­ if you ever hear the sound of the storm without wind¡ª"


    He looked up, his expression a mixture of wrath and terror.


    "Run."


    The torches flickered. The shadows stretched.


    "Because when Barmigia comes¡­ there is no after."


    A deep silence followed.


    And then¡ª


    A sound.


    Not thunder. Not wind.


    Something else. Something wrong.


    A low, distant hum vibrated through the walls. A soundless noise, like the universe itself was exhaling.


    Ares immediately turned pale.


    "No. No, no, no, NO! THAT WASN¡¯T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!"


    The earth trembled.


    Far beyond the castle, the warriors of Velmor felt an unnatural chill crawl up their spines.


    They looked up.


    And froze.


    Because above them¡ª


    The sky was breaking.


    Not like a storm. Not like anything natural.


    No thunder. No lightning.


    Just an unnatural, silent churning.


    Like something was pulling reality apart.


    Nyx opened her eyes.


    Her pupils glowed like dying stars.


    "It¡¯s coming."


    Nythren crossed his arms. "Oh, fantastic. We awakened something that destroys reality itself. Ares, I take back everything I said¡ªyou were actually right for once."


    Ares wasn¡¯t listening. He had already accepted his fate.

 Chapter 19

    Reazel turned sharply toward Ares. His golden eyes burned with intensity. "There should be a way to stop Barmigia?"


    Ares clenched his jaw. "You think if there was a way, I wouldn¡¯t already be running toward it?"


    Before anyone could respond, he took a deep breath and muttered under it, "Before Perseus got himself nearly killed, everyone thought he would erase Medusa from existence."


    Silence.


    The air grew heavy.


    Then, one by one, every pair of eyes turned toward Ares.


    Ares blinked. "What?"


    Karlios crossed his arms, staring at him with a raised eyebrow. "What then? Should we be proud of our mother? Should we take this moment to show wrath against the gods? Or¡­ are you suggesting something else?"


    Ares took a step back. "Hold on. That was not¡ª"


    Nythren clapped his hands together. "Oh, this is rich. The god of war himself just gave credit to Theia¡ªas the key to stopping a force that erases existence itself!"


    Nyssa, who had remained silent, smirked. "So even you acknowledge the powers of our Mother, Ares?"


    Finally, he groaned, dragging his hand down his face. "Fine. Maybe I am saying that Medusa¡¯s existence alone is proof that things can defy what should be erased. Maybe. Possibly. UGH!"


    Nyx finally stepped forward, her gaze calm but unreadable. "If Medusa is the answer, we must understand why. What makes her different?"


    Reaze¡¯s voice was quiet, but firm. "Because she survived what was meant to erase her."


    Karlios muttered, "She was supposed to be erased, yet she remained. A contradiction in existence itself."


    Nythren, "So¡­ if we figure out why Theia remained, maybe we can understand how to stop Barmigia?"


    Ares ran a hand through his hair. "That¡¯s a nice theory, but tell me: how exactly do you plan to test that? Go ask the storm itself?"


    Nythren''s eyes gleamed. "That¡¯s an excellent idea."


    Ares screamed. "THAT WAS SARCASM, YOU IDIOT!"


    Reazel turned to Medusa.


    "Mother, if there is any truth to this, we must find out before Barmigia move forward."


    Medusa studied her son, then glanced at the swirling, silent storm forming above them. Her smirk was gone. In its place, something far colder.


    "Then let me see if I am truly the defiance of fate."


    Reazel turned sharply toward Ares, his golden eyes burning with intensity.


    "There has to be a way to stop Barmigia."


    Ares clenched his jaw.


    "You think if there was a way, I wouldn¡¯t already be running toward it?"


    Before anyone could respond, he took a deep breath and muttered under it¡ª


    "Before Perseus was killed by Medusa, everyone believed he would be the one to kill her."


    The air grew still.


    No one spoke. The flickering torches dimmed ever so slightly, as if something unseen was listening.


    Then¡ªone by one¡ªevery pair of eyes turned toward Ares.


    Ares blinked. "What?"


    Karlios crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. "What then? Should we be proud of our mother? Should we take this moment to show wrath against the gods? Or¡­" he narrowed his eyes, "are you suggesting something else?"


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    Ares stepped back instinctively. "Hold on. That was not¡ª"


    Nythren clapped his hands together, "Oh, this is rich. The mighty god of war himself just gave credit to The¨ªa¡ªas the key to stopping a force that erases existence itself!"


    Nyssa, who had remained silent until now, smirked. "So even you acknowledge our mother¡¯s power, Ares?"


    Ares groaned, dragging his hand down his face. "Fine. Maybe I am saying that Medusa¡¯s existence alone is proof that things can defy what should be erased. Maybe. Possibly. UGH!"


    Nyx finally stepped forward, her gaze calm but unreadable.


    "If Medusa is the answer, we must understand why."


    Her voice carried weight¡ªlike a goddess who had already begun to consider the ramifications.


    Reazel¡¯s voice was quiet, but firm.


    "Because she survived what was meant to erase her."


    Karlios muttered, "She was supposed to be erased, yet she remained. A contradiction in existence itself."


    Nythren exhaled sharply. "So¡­ if we figure out why The¨ªa remained, maybe we can understand how to stop Barmigia?"


    Ares ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. "That¡¯s a nice theory, but tell me: how exactly do you plan to test that? Go ask the storm itself?"


    Nythren¡¯s eyes gleamed.


    "That¡¯s an excellent idea."


    Ares screamed internally. "THAT WAS SARCASM, YOU IDIOT!"


    But Reazel didn¡¯t react to their bickering.


    Instead, he turned to Medusa.


    "Mother¡­"


    The room shifted.


    The silent storm above them churned.


    Reazel¡¯s voice was steady.


    "If there is any truth to this, we must find out before Barmigia moves forward."


    Medusa studied her son for a long moment. Then, slowly, her gaze lifted toward the swirling sky.


    Her smirk was gone.


    In its place, something far colder.


    A pause.


    Then¡ª


    She spoke.


    "Then let me see¡­ if I am truly the defiance of fate."


    Ares stood frozen, staring at Nyx as if she had just declared herself the creator of the universe. His mind refused to process her words.


    "Wait¡­ what?" Ares stammered. "You''re actually going to fight Barmigia?"


    Nyx¡¯s expression remained unreadable, her glowing eyes steady.


    "Yes, Ares. I will stand with Medusa."


    Ares took a slow step back. "You can¡¯t be serious! Nyx, you are the goddess of night! You command the darkness! Even you know that fighting Barmigia isn¡¯t just dangerous¡ªit¡¯s suicide!"


    Medusa stepped forward, her voice slicing through Ares'' panic like a blade.


    "It¡¯s inevitable. You do not control the storm, Ares. You learn to exist within it."


    Reaga smirked, leaning lazily against a pillar. "Relax, Ares. You¡¯re not alone in your existential crisis."


    Ares turned on him, exasperated. "You two are out of your minds! We¡¯re talking about Barmigia! That thing doesn¡¯t destroy kingdoms¡ªit erases reality itself! This isn¡¯t some war to win. It¡¯s the end of everything!"


    Nyssa, who had been silent until now, crossed her arms. "So what? You¡¯d rather cower and let it happen? Because you think we¡¯re too weak?"


    Ares'' frustration boiled over. "I¡¯m not saying that! I¡¯m saying you can¡¯t fight something that¡ª" he gestured wildly, "¡ªdoesn¡¯t even exist in a way we understand!"


    Raezel stepped forward, his golden eyes unwavering. "Then we learn. We adapt. We fight."


    Ares almost snapped back¡ªbut he stopped.


    Because the truth was, he didn¡¯t care about Velmor.


    He didn¡¯t care about the mortals.


    He didn¡¯t care about fighting some noble battle to save reality itself.


    But he did care about one thing.


    His own survival.


    And if Nyx and Medusa¡ªtwo of the most powerful beings in existence¡ªwere choosing to fight¡­


    Then maybe, just maybe¡­ there was a chance.


    Ares exhaled sharply, jaw clenched. "Fine. I¡¯ll fight."


    Nyx raised an eyebrow. "To stand with us?"


    Ares scoffed. "No. To make sure I don¡¯t die here."


    Reaga burst out laughing. "At least he¡¯s honest."


    Nyssa smirked. "Cowardice and strategy are the same thing in his mind."


    Ares glared at her but said nothing.


    Medusa¡¯s expression remained unreadable, but there was the faintest glimmer of amusement in her gaze.


    Nyx nodded. "Then let us prepare. The storm is coming. And we will be ready."


    The ground rumbled beneath them¡ªa warning. A promise. The first whisper of Barmigia¡¯s approach.


    A dark wind swept through the hall, carrying with it a presence that should not exist. The air turned thin, reality itself bending under the weight of what was to come.


    Karlios murmured, his voice tinged with something between awe and fear.


    "We are about to stand against the most destructive force in the universe. And yet¡­ we choose to face it together. Is this truly the only way?"


    Raezel¡¯s voice was steady.


    "I don¡¯t know. But for now, it¡¯s the only way ahead of us."


    Ares let out a long breath, steeling himself. "Then let¡¯s make sure the storm knows it picked the wrong fight."


    The battle was no longer a question.


    Barmigia would come.


    And when it did¡ª


    It would face us.


    Those who refused to be erased.

 Chapter 20

    A heavy silence lingered in the air. The winds that had howled with fury just moments ago were now still. The clouds, once a swirling mass of chaos, had parted as though they had never existed.


    Even the presence of Barmigia, the great devourer of reality itself¡ªwas gone.


    Without a trace.


    Ares stood at the edge of the battlefield, his breath uneven, heart pounding. He stared at the space where the end of existence itself had loomed just moments ago.


    His voice, though deep and commanding, was now laced with confusion and disbelief.


    "What trickery is this?" Ares growled, his gaze scanning the horizon. "Did the very fabric of reality bend only to erase itself? What force, what hand, could command such power to simply vanish?"


    His fists clenched, frustration clouding his usually unshakable demeanor. How? How could such a mighty force, one that threatened to consume all, be undone so easily?


    Then¡ªthe air shifted.


    A sudden pressure filled the space, unseen eyes pressing upon them. The weight of something far greater than gods or mortals settled over the battlefield.


    And before them¡ªthree beings appeared.


    One figure, radiant yet unyielding, Reality.


    Beside her, a presence wrapped in the unseen threads of Fate itself.


    And finally, Time¡ªa being neither young nor old, neither fast nor slow, yet ever-present.


    They did not step forward. They did not arrive. They simply were.


    Ares¡¯ voice faltered, his golden eyes narrowing. "What¡­ are you?"


    Reality¡¯s voice was calm, yet it carried the weight of ages.


    "Do you not recognize us, Ares?"


    A pause. A slow realization.


    Ares stiffened.


    "We are the very foundations upon which all rests." Reality continued. "I am Reality, the fabric of existence. Beside me is Fate, the weaver of all that is destined. And he¡ª" she motioned toward the final figure, "is Time. Ever moving forward, yet never stagnant."


    Ares swallowed, his mind struggling to process. He had faced Titans. He had stood before Olympus itself. But this?


    This was beyond gods.


    This was beyond war.


    His voice was barely above a whisper. "Barmigia¡­" His gaze darted to the empty sky. "Was it you who vanquished it?"


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    Time, ever steady, gave a subtle nod.


    "Yes."


    Ares¡¯ breath hitched. The implications crashed into him like a tidal wave. They erased it.


    Just like that.


    "We could not allow such destruction to unfold," Time continued, his tone neither kind nor cruel¡ªmerely absolute.


    Ares stood frozen. If these beings could erase Barmigia so effortlessly¡­ What were they capable of?


    And if they ever willed it¡ª


    Could they erase everything?


    He clenched his jaw, his voice low and cautious. "Then tell me¡­ what game is this? Why intervene now?"


    Fate¡¯s expression remained unreadable. "To protect."


    The word hung in the air like a verdict.


    "Barmigia¡¯s destruction would have unraveled more than you can comprehend, God of War." Fate¡¯s voice held no mockery, only certainty. "To preserve this reality, we had no choice but to act."


    For a long moment, no one spoke.


    The weight of it settled into Ares¡¯ chest. He had fought countless battles, conquered lands, crushed warriors beneath his heel. But now?


    For the first time, he was beginning to understand.


    Even Olympus¡­ was just a piece of something far larger.


    And then¡ª


    Nythren, ever the reckless fool, finally spoke.


    "So¡­ what happens now? Do we all just go back to our respective corners and forget this ever happened?"


    His voice was playful, but the weight of the moment was not lost.


    Ares turned, exhaling sharply. For once, his usual arrogance was absent.


    "Not all battles are fought with swords." His tone was quieter now, almost reflective. "Some battles are fought with knowledge. And we¡­" He paused, eyes flickering to the three beings before him. "We may have just witnessed the most powerful force in existence."


    A subtle smile touched Reality¡¯s lips.


    And for the first time in his immortal life, Ares felt something unfamiliar.


    Humility.


    Medusa knelt.


    Nyx knelt.


    ¡ª


    Two of the most feared beings in existence¡ªone whose gaze had shattered kings, the other who could cloak Olympus in eternal night¡ªboth lowered themselves in quiet submission.


    Ares¡¯ breath hitched.


    His mind rejected what his eyes were seeing.


    Medusa? Nyx? Kneeling?


    Before anyone? Before anything?


    His fists clenched, his godly pride warring against the weight of the moment. This was impossible. This was wrong.


    "You both..." Ares growled, his voice low, edged with something dangerous. "You know them, don''t you?"


    His golden eyes burned as they flickered between Medusa and Nyx¡ªtwo beings who had never bowed to anyone.


    Yet here they were.


    Lowering their heads.


    In recognition.


    In submission.


    Medusa exhaled slowly.


    Nyx¡¯s midnight gaze did not waver.


    And then¡ªthey spoke as one.


    "Yes."


    Their voices were neither defiant nor afraid¡ªonly absolute.


    "We know them. We know The Order."


    The world shuddered.


    Ares¡¯ heart pounded, his mind racing.


    Because something deep, something instinctual whispered in his bones¡ª


    Even gods had their rulers.


    And before him stood the ones whom even Medusa and Nyx acknowledged.


    The beings who did not demand worship.


    Because they did not need it.


    They were The Order.


    And they were absolute.

 Chapter 21

    "We know them. We know The Order." The words hung in the air, but Ares did not have the luxury of time to contemplate them.


    He turned his attention to Nythren and Reazel, his face twisted into a mean, mocking look, "Well, well," Ares began, his tone thick with sarcasm. "Seems like you two aren''t the most powerful beings after all. What a shock."


    The words stung, more than Ares had anticipated. Nythren and Reazel stood frozen for a moment, their usual confident demeanors slipping into a momentary shame. They exchanged uneasy glances, their pride slowly crumbling in the face of the truth.


    Ares took full advantage of their discomfort, his voice now dripping with ridicule. "Oh, I get it now. You thought Nyx and Medusa were the peak of power, didn''t you? That they were untouchable?" He let out a short laugh, turning back to the kneeling figures of Medusa and Nyx. "Look at this. Medusa and Nyx, two of the most feared beings in the universe, on their knees. And what does that say about you two?"


    His mocking tone echoed, but it was not just for Nythren and Reazel. Ares, for the first time, found himself in a position where he could mock these two who had always seemed so untouchable, so above everyone else.


    Reazel and Nythren did not respond. They stood in silent understanding, their eyes darkening with the weight of the truth. They had indeed been humbled, something neither of them had ever experienced till now.


    For Ares, this moment was a rare one. His usual arrogance had found its equal in this situation, where the other mighty beings were forced to confront the reality that there was something greater than them. Something that even they dared not oppose.


    "I suppose you''re both just like the rest of us now," Ares sneered, eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of a victor. "You too kneel before these forces. Isn''t that something?"


    The words, although spoken with cruelty, were laced with the final triumph of the god of war. Reaga and Raphael were not invincible. They were not gods themselves, after all.


    Medusa and Nyx, however, remained silent and unmoving, their expressions unreadable. They were not offended, nor were they angry. They simply accepted their position, knowing well that in the presence of ¡°The Order,¡± even the mightiest had to bow.


    Ares turned to the three primordial entities, his posture shifting from mocking to curious as he finally acknowledged the true source of power. His gaze turned toward Reality, Fate, and Time. The true rulers of the cosmos, the ones who stood above all.


    "So, what now?" Ares asked, his voice filled with a strange mixture of awe and defiance.


    "What happens next," Time said slowly, his voice calm and deliberate, "is that all things must align. The balance must be maintained."


    The weight of Time''s words sank in, and Ares finally understood that this moment was not simply a matter of pride. It was something far more significant. Even the gods, the powerful beings who ruled realm¡¯s, had limits. And these three entities, these forces of the universe, were beyond everyone.


    Ares exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the weight of the moment. But the smirk that usually followed never came.


    Because something had shifted.


    He turned his gaze toward Nythren and Reazel, eyes narrowing. "So, what¡¯s the grand lesson here, huh? The big revelation? That we''re all just pawns in someone else¡¯s game?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "Well, if that¡¯s the case, I guess I''m the pawn who still knows how to have a little fun."


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    His lips curled into something almost confident¡ªalmost¡ªbut there was an unease lurking beneath it. He gestured toward Reaga and Reazel with exaggerated flair.


    "Not every day you get to see legends like you two¡ª" he drawled.


    Then, with mock amusement, he tilted his head.


    "¡ªreduced to dust, eh?"


    Silence.


    The air thickened.


    The Order, still lingering like a whisper in the air, spoke without speaking. Their message was for Medusa and Nyx alone.


    And when the two women nodded in understanding, something shifted.


    Ares felt it first. A subtle, crawling sensation at the base of his spine. A warning.


    Without a word, Medusa and Nyx rose. Their movements were slow, deliberate. Unhurried.


    But their eyes?


    Their eyes held something ancient. Something inevitable.


    Nyx was the first to speak. Her voice was softer than a whisper¡ªand yet colder than the void itself.


    "Ares, you seem to forget your place... and where your jokes belong."


    A flicker of something dangerous passed through Medusa¡¯s gaze. Her smirk widened, sharp enough to draw blood.


    They stepped forward.


    The space between them and Ares shrank with agonizing slowness.


    The air changed. Thick. Suffocating. A force that pressed against the bones rather than the skin.


    Ares hesitated. For the first time in centuries, his body reacted before his mind. His weight shifted¡ªbackward.


    Away.


    Instinct.


    Still, he forced out a chuckle. "What¡¯s this? You two are really about to throw down? A little upset because the joke was on you and your children?"


    He shrugged, feigning indifference, but his usual bravado wavered.


    No one spoke.


    Then¡ª


    Laughter.


    Soft. Low. Amused.


    But not from Ares.


    Reazel straightened, his golden eyes calm. Knowing.


    Beside him, Nythren cracked his neck. His smirk **returned¡ª**but this time, it was not playful.


    "You should¡¯ve known better than to make jokes, Ares," Nythren said, his voice almost pitying.


    "You''re not the only one with tricks up your sleeve."


    Ares tensed.


    Reazel met his gaze. Steady. Unshaken.


    "Everything has its balance," he said, voice even. "Power is fleeting. But wisdom¡­ wisdom endures."


    A beat of silence.


    Ares exhaled, shaking his head with a dry, short laugh. "Fine, fine... I get it. You all have your little tricks. But don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be forgetting this any time soon."


    His gaze swept across the room, lingering on Medusa, Nyx, Reazel, and Nythren. The mockery in his tone still remained¡ªbut beneath it, there was something else.


    Something close to respect.


    "I¡¯ll be watching."


    The tension in the air did not fully fade. But it shifted.


    Nyx, Ares, and Medusa prepared to return to their places, settling back into their roles.


    This had not been a battle of swords or power.


    It had been a shift in control.


    And Ares?


    He had lost.


    But Velmor had won.


    Reazel took a slow breath, his gaze no longer uncertain.


    "There¡¯s no need for games," he said, softly. "I¡¯ll stay here... in Velmor."


    A pause.


    Then¡ªa step forward.


    Nihaga.


    The serpent who had remained in the shadows¡ªwatching, waiting. He moved with purpose.


    He bowed his head to Medusa.


    And when he spoke, there was no hesitation. Only devotion.


    "I shall guard and care for Reazel. My duty is to protect him, as always."


    The hall was silent.


    And just like that¡ªthe future of Velmor was sealed.

 Chapter 22

    It had been two days since her youngest son, Raezel, left the halls of Thaimera to live among mortals in Velmor.


    Two days since his presence no longer filled the grand corridors of her domain, since the ever-watchful Nihaga had taken up his silent duty beside the boy.


    Two days since Medusa had last seen him.


    Her palace, vast and untouched by time, had not changed in his absence. The golden halls still stood, the towering statues of past victories still loomed, and the ever-burning torches still flickered with their enchanted glow.


    And yet¡ªeverything felt different.


    Medusa sat upon her throne, draped in flowing obsidian silk, her serpents hissing softly as they shifted in irritation. She had known this day would come¡ªRaezel had always been different, always searching for something beyond what his bloodline had given him.


    She had accepted it.


    She had let him go.


    Then why was she so... restless?


    Her fingers tapped rhythmically against the carved armrest of her throne. Her golden eyes, which had once petrified kings, now simply stared into the distance, unblinking.


    A mother¡¯s instinct was not so easily silenced.


    And worse¡ªher kingdom was not silent about his absence either.


    Nyssa adjusted the sleeves of her midnight-black robes as she walked through the now-oddly quiet halls of Thaimera. The lack of Raezel¡¯s presence was not something she cared to admit affected her.


    But it did.


    She wasn¡¯t sentimental, nor was she the type to wallow in emotions. However, she was observant. And what she observed was unsettling.


    The entire palace was uneasy.


    The air felt heavier, not with fear, but with something unspoken. The servants moved with an odd stiffness, the guards exchanged glances when they thought no one was watching, and the warriors¡ªmen who would face entire armies without flinching¡ªseemed strangely restless.


    They were all thinking the same thing.


    Their prince was gone.


    And mortals were the ones looking after him.


    A flicker of amusement crossed her lips. Mortals. The very idea seemed ridiculous to them.


    As she passed the grand dining hall, she spotted a gathering¡ªno, a silent protest.


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    The caretakers, the cooks, the warriors¡ªthey all stood, whispering amongst themselves.


    The moment they saw her, they straightened, their expressions carefully neutral.


    Nyssa smirked. ¡°Are we holding a rebellion?¡±


    A few servants flinched, but the oldest caretaker, an elderly woman who had served since Nyssa¡¯s birth, stepped forward and bowed deeply.


    ¡°Forgive us, Princess Nyssa,¡± she said. ¡°But we... we cannot accept this.¡±


    Nyssa raised an eyebrow. ¡°Accept what?¡±


    ¡°The prince,¡± another voice spoke¡ªone of the palace chefs, his arms crossed in discontent. ¡°He is out there, living among mortals. Eating mortal food. Being cared for by mortal hands.¡±


    The horror in his voice would have been amusing if it weren¡¯t so dramatic.


    A warrior¡ªa man who had sworn his life to Medusa¡¯s children¡ªstepped forward. ¡°Princess, we do not question Queen Medusa¡¯s will,¡± he said firmly. ¡°But how could she allow our youngest prince to live among those beneath him?¡±


    Another spoke. ¡°They are weak. What if they cannot protect him?¡±


    The oldest caretaker shook her head. ¡°And they do not know him! Our prince is reserved, he does not voice his needs. How can mere mortals understand him as we do?¡±


    ¡°And the food,¡± the chef muttered darkly. ¡°What if he is eating something bland?¡±


    Nyssa stared at them.


    Then she laughed.


    It wasn¡¯t cruel, but it was sharp enough to make some of them stiffen.


    ¡°Oh, so this is treason by overprotectiveness?¡± she mused. ¡°How amusing.¡±


    The caretakers looked ashamed. The warriors looked indignant. The cooks just looked deeply offended at the mere thought of Raezel eating subpar cuisine.


    Nyssa crossed her arms, tilting her head. ¡°You do realize Raezel chose this?¡±


    Silence.


    She sighed. ¡°I won¡¯t lie, I don¡¯t particularly like the idea either. But he has made his choice. And if there¡¯s one thing you all should know¡ª¡± her golden eyes darkened slightly, her smirk sharpening, ¡°¡ªMedusa¡¯s children are not so easily harmed.¡±


    The warriors exchanged glances. The caretakers hesitated.


    Then the chef grumbled, ¡°I still don¡¯t trust mortal food.¡±


    Nyssa chuckled. ¡°Neither do I.¡±


    A row of palace staff stood before Medusa.


    Silent.


    Still.


    Judging.


    Medusa, the Queen of Thaimera, one of the most feared beings in existence, was being silently judged by her own people.


    Her fingers taped against her throne. Slowly. Rhythmic.


    She exhaled. ¡°Speak.¡±


    The head caretaker stepped forward, her elderly face lined with years of unwavering service. ¡°My Queen,¡± she began, her voice carefully measured, ¡°we... do not doubt you. But we are concerned.¡±


    Medusa did not blink. ¡°Concerned.¡±


    ¡°Yes, My Queen,¡± another voice chimed in¡ªone of the warriors this time. ¡°Prince Raezel is strong, but he is still our prince. And yet, he is out there¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ªAmong mortals.¡± The chef finished bitterly.


    Medusa¡¯s serpents shifted slightly, sensing her amusement.


    They spoke as if she had abandoned her child in a wasteland. As if Raezel, her son¡ªwho could bring down kingdoms if he wished¡ªwas a defenseless babe in the arms of cruel strangers.


    The absurdity of it all almost made her smile.


    Almost.


    ¡°And what,¡± she said slowly, her voice a dangerous lull, ¡°would you have me do?¡±


    The room tensed.


    No one dared to suggest forcing Raezel to return. That would be a direct defiance of his will. And none of them would dare suggest going against their prince.


    And yet¡ª


    The silence stretched, thick with unspoken desperation.


    Medusa sighed, rubbing her temple. ¡°He will return when he wishes,¡± she said simply.


    ¡°But what if he doesn¡¯t?¡± someone muttered.


    Medusa¡¯s eyes flickered with something unreadable.


    Then I will simply bring the realm to its knees until he does.


    But she did not say it.


    Instead, she exhaled. ¡°If he does not return soon, I imagine some of you will pass out from sheer agony.¡±


    A few warriors actually nodded in agreement.


    Medusa closed her eyes. This was ridiculous. Her people, the most ruthless warriors in all realms, were behaving as if their prince had been tossed into a storm and left for dead.

 Chapter 23

    The streets of Velmor were quieter than he expected.


    Two days had passed since his arrival, yet the city still held its breath, as if afraid to exhale in his presence. Merchants stole cautious glances from behind their stalls, commoners whispered behind covered mouths, and guards clutched their spears a little too tightly whenever he passed.


    Raezel sighed. So much for blending in.


    He had hoped to walk through Velmor unnoticed¡ªto experience the kingdom as it was, without the weight of his lineage smothering the air. But even with a simple dark cloak draped over his shoulders, concealing the finer details of his attire, he still carried an unmistakable presence.


    Perhaps it was the way he walked¡ªeffortlessly poised yet unnervingly fluid. Perhaps it was the golden hue of his eyes, sharp and all-seeing, revealing a depth of knowing that mortals could never quite place.


    Or perhaps... it was the man walking beside him.


    Nihaga.


    If Raezel¡¯s presence unsettled Velmor, Nihaga¡¯s froze it entirely.


    Wherever they walked, the people instinctively parted, their eyes darting to the silent, dark-robed figure at Raezel¡¯s side. Nihaga did not glare, nor did he scowl¡ªhe simply existed, and that alone was terrifying enough. His every movement was precise, deliberate, his expression unreadable beneath the hood that barely shadowed his golden, slit-pupil eyes.


    If Raezel was a foreign prince, Nihaga was a specter¡ªa guardian spirit carved from the abyss itself.


    No wonder the people are afraid, Raezel thought dryly. They think we¡¯re here to judge them.


    He exhaled softly, adjusting the hood of his cloak. It didn¡¯t help. The moment he stepped forward, the tension in the air only grew thicker.


    Velmor was trying to welcome him. He could see it¡ªthe way merchants hesitated before forcing polite smiles, the way townspeople stiffly bowed as he passed, their movements unsure but well-intended.


    But beneath their strained politeness, he saw the fear.


    Fear of why he was here.


    Fear of what he could do.


    Fear of what would happen if they failed to please him.


    Raezel did not blame them.


    Mortals were raised on stories of destruction. Of gods and monsters who reshaped the world in their wrath. Of Medusa, the Serpentine Monarch, whose very name made kings tremble.


    And now, her son walked among them.


    The people of Velmor had expected a monster.


    Arrogant. Cruel. Unforgiving.


    Instead, they found... him.


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    Calm. Observant. Unbothered.


    Raezel sighed again. This is going to take time.


    Velmor was weak.


    Nihaga saw it instantly.


    From the moment they had arrived, he had cataloged every flaw, every vulnerability. The crumbling stonework of the outer walls. The gaps in guard rotations. The lack of trained warriors¡ªa land that had relied too long on mercenaries and clever diplomacy to survive.


    He didn¡¯t understand why his Queen had chosen to place Raezel here.


    A test, perhaps. Or a lesson.


    To walk among mortals, to understand their struggles¡ªthis was Raezel¡¯s choice. But Medusa¡¯s approval of it? That carried a deeper meaning.


    Nihaga did not question his Queen¡¯s will. He never had, never would.


    But Velmor...


    It was not worthy.


    Not yet.


    He walked half a step behind Raezel, ever-watchful. His eyes flickered over rooftops, alleyways, and shifting crowds. A trained eye might assume he was relaxed¡ªhe was not. He had already detected thirteen potential points of ambush, fourteen hidden blades among the crowd, and one particularly nervous guard whose fingers kept twitching toward his weapon.


    Pathetic.


    No one in this kingdom could kill Raezel.


    But someone might be foolish enough to try.


    Nihaga would make sure that mistake did not happen.


    His duty was clear.


    To protect. To eliminate. To ensure his prince remained untouched.


    Raezel, however, had other ideas.


    "You¡¯re stiff," Raezel muttered under his breath as they walked. "Relax a little."


    Nihaga did not turn his head. "I am relaxed."


    Raezel shot him an unimpressed glance. "You''re looking at that baker like he''s about to stab me with a loaf of bread."


    Nihaga did not respond. Because the baker was gripping his knife far too tightly.


    Raezel sighed, rubbing his temple. "You don¡¯t need to kill anyone today."


    "I am aware," Nihaga said. "But if I do, you will be the first to know."


    Raezel groaned.


    The people did not know what to expect.


    Two days. It had been two days since the Son of Medusa arrived, and the city had yet to collapse.


    This was... shocking.


    The merchants had prepared for destruction. The nobles had braced for arrogance. The warriors had sharpened their weapons, knowing no weapon would save them if he was displeased.


    Instead, they found Raezel.


    And Raezel was...


    Chill.


    He did not demand anything. He did not glare, or threaten, or summon storms upon their land.


    He bought bread.


    He walked through the market with quiet amusement, watching vendors bargain with their customers. When a merchant nervously overcharged him for a simple cloak, he paid it without question¡ªthen handed the cloak to a shivering child nearby.


    He was not a monster.


    He was... almost normal.


    Almost.


    Because no matter how effortlessly he moved, no matter how soft his expressions were, there was something otherworldly about him.


    Something in the way he existed.


    Even at rest, he was a force.


    And then, of course, there was the other one.


    The shadow beside him.


    If Raezel was the quiet storm, Nihaga was the blade within it.


    Wherever they went, the people shivered beneath Nihaga¡¯s gaze. He did not speak unless spoken to. He did not acknowledge their fearful stares. He simply watched.


    Velmor had welcomed many warriors over the years.


    But this was no warrior.


    This was a watcher. A predator lurking in plain sight.


    The people wanted to welcome their prince.


    But how could they, when his shadow watched them as if they were prey?


    Still¡ªthey tried.


    A voice.


    Bright. Direct. Completely unafraid.


    "Are you new?"


    Raezel blinked.


    A girl stood in front of him, arms crossed, head tilted.


    She had dark black hair tied lazily behind her back, dust-streaked clothes, and a small satchel slung over her shoulder. She wasn¡¯t bowing. She wasn¡¯t trembling.


    She was staring straight at him.


    "And are you a merchant?" she added.


    For the first time since arriving in Velmor, Raezel was genuinely caught off guard.


    Nihaga immediately tensed beside him.


    The market stopped breathing.


    The people of Velmor watched in horror.


    A mortal girl had just spoken to the Son of Medusa as if he were... normal.


    Raezel stared at her.

 Chapter 24

    Raezel had faced gods, warriors, and creatures that could turn mountains to dust with a whisper.


    And yet, at that moment, he found himself completely caught off guard by a mortal girl.


    She stood before him, arms crossed, head tilted, her amber eyes filled with something he rarely saw in mortals when they looked at him¡ªaudacity.


    "Are you new?" she asked, her voice sharp and direct, cutting through the thick silence of the marketplace.


    Raezel blinked.


    Before he could respond, she continued.


    "And are you a merchant?"


    Her tone was casual, as if she were questioning some traveling salesman.


    Raezel opened his mouth to answer¡ª


    "No, you¡¯re not," she declared, cutting him off before he could say a single word.


    Somewhere in the market, a basket of apples hit the ground.


    A noblewoman swayed, barely catching herself.


    Nihaga stiffened¡ªthen turned his gaze to Raezel.


    Raezel stared at her, curious.


    Most people barely spoke in his presence. She did not even let him speak.


    "Is that so?" he mused, watching the way she scrutinized him.


    Nyra nodded confidently. "Yeah. There''s something off about you."


    Raezel smirked slightly. "Oh? And what exactly makes me not look human?"


    Nyra, completely unfazed, tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Well, first of all, you¡¯re too pretty."


    Nihaga choked.


    Raezel¡¯s smirk faltered. "...Pretty?"


    "Yeah, but not in a delicate way," Nyra added, gesturing vaguely at him. "You look like one of those arrogant highborns who just exist to make other people feel average. Sharp features. Regal posture. All that noble nonsense."


    Raezel let out a soft chuckle. "I see."


    But Nyra wasn¡¯t finished.


    "And then there are your eyes."


    She pointed straight at them, ignoring the way the onlookers were sweating from sheer secondhand fear.


    "Golden. Too golden," she declared. "Like, unsettlingly so. And it¡¯s not just the color¡ªit¡¯s the way you look at things. Most people look at things. You look through them. Like you already know what someone¡¯s thinking before they say anything."


    Raezel arched an eyebrow. "And that makes me not human?"


    Nyra nodded. "Oh, I¡¯m not done yet."


    Nihaga, at this point, had his arms crossed, watching her with genuine amusement.


    "Your hair is weird too," Nyra continued. "Dark, yeah, but those green streaks? They look like they¡¯re alive. And I swear¡ª" she squinted at him, "¡ªthey moved."


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    Raezel glanced at Nihaga.


    Nihaga said nothing, but the corners of his lips were definitely twitching.


    "And your ears!" Nyra pointed accusingly. "A little too pointed. Not like an elf, but just enough to make me question things."


    Raezel sighed. "I see."


    Nyra tilted her head. "See what?"


    "That you speak before you think."


    Nyra crossed her arms. "Thinking takes time."


    Raezel chuckled. Nihaga, standing beside him, suppressed a smirk.


    Nyra, completely unaware of the tension she had created, shifted topics without hesitation.


    "Hey, do you know what happened to Velmor?" she asked suddenly.


    Raezel tilted his head slightly. "What?"


    Nyra nodded, a smirk forming on her lips. "Velmor became strong. That¡¯s what my father and the others say."


    "Your father?" Raezel asked.


    Nyra grinned, puffing out her chest with pride. "Yes! He¡¯s an army commander of Velmor!"


    She said it with such confidence, completely unaware that she was bragging about her father¡¯s position to the Son of Medusa.


    Raezel glanced at Nihaga. The silent guardian¡¯s expression remained neutral, but Raezel could feel his amusement beneath the surface.


    Then, Nyra suddenly lifted the collar of her shirt, revealing a mark on her neck.


    A coiling snake.


    "Everyone in Velmor got these marks," she stated.


    But Raezel noticed something.


    Her voice¡ªthough still confident¡ªheld dissatisfaction.


    It was subtle, but it was there.


    He exchanged a glance with Nihaga, who had noticed the same thing.


    "Are you not happy with your mark?" Raezel asked.


    Nyra hesitated. Then, with complete childlike bluntness, she answered¡ª


    "Hmm¡­ I don¡¯t like snakes."


    She wrinkled her nose, as if the very thought of it annoyed her.


    "I like rabbits," she added with complete seriousness.


    Raezel blinked.


    Nihaga stared.


    The entire marketplace, still watching the exchange, was now caught between horrified shock and morbid curiosity.


    Did this girl just... casually dismiss the blessing of Medusa because she preferred rabbits?


    Raezel stepped forward.


    Before Nyra could react, his fingers brushed against her neck, his thumb grazing over the snake mark.


    A warmth spread from his touch, and for the first time since she began speaking, Nyra¡¯s face turned red.


    She stiffened slightly, blinking rapidly. "W-What are you doing?"


    Raezel simply smiled. "You like rabbits."


    Nyra nodded hesitantly.


    Raezel snapped his fingers.


    Before Nyra¡¯s eyes, the snake mark coiled and reshaped itself.


    Into a rabbit.


    Nyra stared.


    Then¡ª


    A brilliant grin broke across her face.


    She beamed up at him, her amber eyes shining with childlike amusement.


    "I knew it!" she declared. "You¡¯re a magician!"


    Raezel chuckled.


    Nihaga, however, choked on air.


    Nyra, completely serious, continued, "But you came to the wrong nation. People here can at most give you a loaf of bread and a cloth for your magic tricks. Velmor isn¡¯t wealthy like Arathis."


    Nihaga froze.


    His prince¡ªa street magician?


    For the next few moments, Nihaga¡¯s mind spiraled.


    He imagined it.


    Raezel, dressed in a ridiculous cloak, standing in the middle of a marketplace, performing cheap tricks for bread and old clothes.


    The Son of Medusa, the one feared by gods, being rewarded with stale bread.


    The image was too much.


    Nihaga collapsed, clutching his stomach, shaking with uncontrollable laughter.


    Raezel exhaled sharply. "Really, Nihaga?"


    As they continued walking, Raezel noticed Nyra was looking for something.


    "Are you searching for someone?" he asked.


    Nyra nodded. "Yeah. A giant snake."


    Raezel and Nihaga froze.


    "...A what?"


    Nyra turned to them. "The being who gave us these snake marks! And made Velmor strong! I heard she left her son here to live with us. I want to meet him!"


    Raezel opened his mouth¡ª


    And Nihaga collapsed again, rolling on the ground laughing.


    Between gasps for air, he wheezed, "A¡ªA giant snake¡ª!" He pounded his fist against the ground, his entire body trembling with uncontrollable laughter. "She thinks you''re¡ªshe thinks you''re a¡ªpfft¡ªa giant snake monster!"


    Raezel blinked. His expression deadpanned. "Excuse me?"


    Nihaga clutched his stomach, his laughter turning absolutely ridiculous. "I¡ªI just¡ª" He gasped between laughs, wiping the tears from his eyes. "My prince! The almighty Son of Medusa! Feared across realms! But no, no¡ª" He let out another wheeze. "To her, you are just a... giant... slithering... snake beast!"


    Raezel ran a hand down his face. "You are enjoying this far too much."


    Nyra, watching the spectacle with a raised eyebrow, muttered, "Is he okay?"


    Raezel sighed heavily. "Unfortunately, yes."


    Finally managing to compose himself (barely), Nihaga took a deep breath and stood. He wiped his face, still grinning, and with a dramatic flourish, he gestured toward Raezel like a grand performer unveiling the greatest masterpiece of all time.


    "The Son of Medusa... is standing right in front of you."


    Nyra stared at Raezel.


    Raezel stared back.


    A long silence.


    Then¡ªNyra¡¯s eyes flickered to his hair.


    "...Well," she said.


    "That explains the hair."

 Chapter 25

    The streets of Velmor stretched before them, bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun. Raezel walked at a steady pace, his expression calm, his presence still commanding an unspoken reverence from the people around him.


    Beside him, Nihaga was still struggling to contain his laughter.


    Every few steps, a quiet chuckle would escape him, his shoulders shaking slightly as he tried to keep his composure. The image of his prince¡ªthe feared Son of Medusa¡ªbeing mistaken for a giant snake monster was something he simply could not erase from his mind.


    Raezel sighed. "Are you done?"


    Nihaga exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "Not even close."


    Nyra, completely unbothered by the tension she had unknowingly caused the entire city, walked beside them with no hesitation whatsoever.


    The people of Velmor, however, were still recovering from their near-death experience of witnessing her casually converse with Raezel.


    The collective thought that ran through their minds was simple:


    "We will never question Nyra¡¯s luck or existence ever again."


    She was either the luckiest girl alive... or completely doomed.


    "Hey, Raezel!" Nyra suddenly piped up.


    Raezel glanced at her, arching an eyebrow. "Yes?"


    "Can I ask you something?"


    He nodded. "Go ahead."


    Nyra tilted her head slightly, amber eyes glimmering with curiosity.


    "Why do people fear you and your mother?"


    The question should have been expected.


    And yet, the sheer innocence in her tone made Raezel pause for a moment.


    Before he could respond, she continued.


    "You look so pretty."


    Raezel blinked.


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    "Not like other monsters," Nyra added thoughtfully. "And you¡¯re also really sweet and nice."


    Now, that made Raezel pause.


    It wasn¡¯t the first time someone had given him compliments. But the way Nyra said it¡ªso bluntly, with absolute sincerity and zero hesitation¡ªwas¡­ different.


    Something warm crept up his neck.


    His ears tinged pink.


    Nihaga, immediately noticing this, stared at his prince in silent disbelief.


    Raezel¡ªthe same Raezel who had stared down gods without flinching¡ªwas blushing.


    Nyra, of course, was completely unaware of this reaction.


    "So, if you¡¯re this nice, your mother must be too!" she continued. "Then why do people fear her?"


    That¡¯s when Nihaga lost it.


    He tried¡ªtruly tried¡ªto keep a straight face.


    But his mind had already betrayed him.


    He involuntarily imagined his queen, Medusa, standing atop her throne with a sweet, motherly voice and a gentle smile.


    "Oh, dearest ones," the fake Medusa in his head cooed, "please reduce that kingdom to ashes. And be quick about it, my loves! Dinner is in an hour!"


    The image was so violently wrong that Nihaga immediately choked.


    His entire body shuddered as he held back laughter, his lips pressed into a thin line.


    Raezel side-eyed him. "Don¡¯t."


    "I¡¯m not," Nihaga said, voice strained.


    "You are."


    "I¡ª" Nihaga wheezed. "Just¡ªgive me a moment."


    Raezel exhaled sharply before finally lifting his gaze to the sky.


    He was silent for a long moment, as if carefully choosing his words.


    Then, at last¡ª


    "Fear is not always about monsters, Nyra."


    His voice was calm, yet there was weight to it¡ªlike an ancient truth woven into his words.


    Nyra blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone.


    Raezel glanced at her, his expression unreadable.


    "People do not fear my mother because she is cruel," he continued. "They fear her because she is powerful. Because she is unknown."


    He exhaled softly, his golden eyes glimmering in the dimming light.


    "People do not fear the dark because it harms them. They fear it because they do not know what lies within it.


    They do not fear the ocean because it wants to drown them.


    They fear it because they do not understand its depths."


    Nyra¡¯s lips parted slightly, processing his words.


    Raezel continued.


    "People fear the unknown, the uncontrollable¡ªthe things that do not bend to their will."


    His gaze drifted slightly, distant.


    "And my mother? She is all those things combined."


    A heavy silence settled between them.


    Nyra furrowed her brows, deep in thought.


    "So... people are scared of her just because they don¡¯t understand her?"


    Raezel nodded. "Because they cannot control her. Because she does not fit into their idea of what should exist."


    Nyra huffed, crossing her arms.


    "That¡¯s stupid."


    Raezel blinked.


    Nihaga choked again.


    Nyra tilted her head, her expression serious.


    "If they¡¯re scared of something just because they don¡¯t understand it, then wouldn¡¯t the answer be to... I don¡¯t know, try to understand it?"


    Raezel stared at her.


    Then¡ª


    A slow chuckle escaped his lips.


    "That would be the wise thing to do, yes."


    Nyra grinned. "See? I knew she wasn¡¯t a bad person!"


    Nihaga, still recovering from his mental image of a ¡®sweet and nice¡¯ Medusa, muttered under his breath,


    "I would love to see someone call Queen Medusa ¡®not scary¡¯ to her face."


    Nyra, completely missing the sarcasm, nodded confidently.


    "I¡¯ll tell her that when I meet her!"


    Raezel sighed.


    This girl was either fearless or incredibly foolish.


    Maybe both.

 Chapter 26

    Nyra returned home just as the city¡¯s night lanterns flickered to life. The warmth of the small household contrasted sharply with the weight of the day''s events. The scent of freshly baked bread and roasted meat filled the air as her mother set the table, and her father¡ªCommander Daelus, one of Velmor¡¯s strongest warriors and the man in charge of Velmor¡¯s army¡ªremoved his armor with a tired sigh.


    They sat down to eat, but the conversation quickly turned to the one thing on everyone¡¯s mind¡ªwhat had happened today.


    Her father took a deep breath before speaking, shaking his head.


    "Unbelievable. Some reckless fool actually had the audacity to mock the Son of Medusa¡ªRaezel. Do they not understand? Do they have a death wish? The entire kingdom of Velmor was one wrong word away from being erased!"


    Her mother nodded in agreement. "It¡¯s madness. How could anyone be so blind to the danger? Raezel may have inherited Medusa¡¯s terrifying power, but that girl¡ªwhoever she was¡ªtreated him like some common traveler. Does she not value her life?"


    Nyra, chewing her food slowly, remained silent. But a smirk formed on her lips as she listened to her parents unknowingly berate her.


    Then, as her father took a sip of wine and her mother sliced through a piece of meat, she casually placed her spoon down and spoke.


    "It was me."


    The room fell silent.


    Her father stopped mid-sip.


    Her mother¡¯s knife froze in mid-air.


    Both turned their heads toward her in slow, stiff movements¡ªas if they had just witnessed a ghost appear at their table.


    "What do you mean... it was you?" her father finally asked, his voice hesitant.


    Nyra leaned back slightly, stretching her arms. "I mean exactly what I said. The girl who spent the entire day with Raezel¡ªthe one who casually talked to him, the one who mocked him for his pretty looks, the one who nearly caused the fall of Velmor?"


    She tapped her own chest.


    "That was me, Father." (Like she had just done something honorable ??.)


    Her mother dropped her fork.


    Her father¡¯s face turned pale, as if all the blood had drained from his body. He gripped the table, looking as if he might pass out.


    "You¡­ You¡ª!" he stammered, unable to find words.


    Nyra, enjoying their reactions a little too much, smiled sweetly.


    "Oh, and by the way, I invited him for breakfast tomorrow."


    Her father shot up from his chair.


    "You did WHAT?!"


    Her mother gasped in horror. "Nyra, are you insane?! We are but simple soldiers and common folk! How can we host someone like him? What if he takes offense at something? What if this makes Medusa angry¡ªthat we were unworthy hosts for her son?! Do you know what will happen to us? WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO VELMOR?!"


    Nyra stood up from her seat, pushing her chair back.


    "He¡¯s coming whether you like it or not. Best you prepare something nice." She smirked.


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    With that, she turned and left for her room, leaving her parents in stunned silence.


    Her father slumped back into his chair, rubbing his face with both hands.


    "We are doomed."


    ¡ª


    The morning light crept through the small window of Nyra¡¯s home as she, still groggy from the previous night¡¯s events, prepared to face what seemed like an endless sea of uncertainty.


    Her parents, still in disbelief that someone like Raezel would grace their humble home, were hard at work in the kitchen.


    Her mother, chopping vegetables with a furrowed brow, spoke first, the anxiety thick in her voice.


    "I don¡¯t understand it. Why would someone like him¡ªRaezel, the Son of Medusa¡ªwant to come to our house? It¡¯s not like we¡¯re royalty or even respected soldiers."


    Her father, stirring a pot of stew, shook his head. "Maybe he forgot about Nyra. It¡¯s too much to believe. How could someone like him take interest in a normal girl like her? He must¡¯ve been mistaken."


    They both exchanged uneasy glances, neither fully convinced that Raezel would actually show up.


    "You''re right," her mother said, wiping her hands on her apron. "He¡¯s likely too busy or far too important. He¡¯s not coming. I¡¯m sure of it."


    They nodded to each other, their words becoming more reassuring with every passing moment.


    The tension in the room seemed to fade as they both agreed:


    Raezel would not come.


    And yet¡­


    A soft knock came at the door.


    Nyra¡¯s mother froze.


    Her father stopped stirring the pot.


    Nyra, who had been lounging against the wall, now looked at them in mild amusement.


    Her parents exchanged a panicked look, clearly unsure what to do.


    They had agreed, after all¡ªRaezel would never come.


    But the knock came again.


    Nyra pushed herself off the wall with a smirk. "I¡¯ll get it."


    She walked over to the door, her steps light and casual.


    With each step, her parents seemed to grow tenser.


    When Nyra opened the door, her smile faltered only slightly as she saw the two figures standing before her.


    Raezel stood tall, his presence as imposing as ever.


    Beside him, with his arms folded casually, was the stoic and silent Nihaga.


    Nyra blinked twice, then tilted her head. "Well, well, I guess you did show up."


    She said it so casually that it almost seemed like she hadn¡¯t just forced her parents to nearly lose their minds the night before.


    Raezel didn¡¯t respond right away. He merely looked at her with a strange mix of amusement and indifference.


    Nihaga, on the other hand, nodded curtly to Nyra as a sign of respect¡ªthough his eyes were constantly on Raezel, almost as if protecting him from something or someone.


    Her parents, still in shock, remained in the kitchen, staring at each other with wide eyes, utterly speechless.


    "Are you going to invite us in?" Raezel finally asked, his voice calm and cool as always, though with a hint of amusement.


    Nyra didn¡¯t need to say anything else.


    With a slight bow of her head, she stepped aside.


    "Come on in," she said with the same nonchalant attitude that had gotten her into trouble the day before.


    "I¡¯m sure the stew will be ready in no time."


    Her mother and father were now visibly trembling, standing in the background as their two guests stepped inside.


    The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly.


    Raezel and Nihaga entered with a quiet elegance that made it feel as if the air itself had thickened.


    "Don¡¯t mind them," Nyra said casually, gesturing to her parents, who had yet to speak. "They¡¯re just in shock."


    Her father finally found his voice.


    "P-Prince Raezel¡­ it¡¯s an honor," he stammered, bowing low, trying to mask his nervousness.


    Raezel simply smirked.

 Chapter 27

    As Raezel stepped inside and sat at the humble dining table, a subtle discomfort settled over him. The people of Velmor, especially Nyra''s parents, treated him with such reverence that it made him uneasy.


    Raezel couldn¡¯t understand why they saw him as some kind of deity. He wasn¡¯t here to be worshipped, not even by those who feared his mother, Medusa.


    Yet, every gesture from Nyra¡¯s parents felt like a silent acknowledgment of his supposed superiority.


    Across the table, Nyra sat casually, watching him with amusement. She knew exactly what was going through his mind.


    The meal began with awkward silences. The clinking of utensils against ceramic bowls was the only sound filling the air.


    Finally, Nyra¡¯s mother broke the silence.


    "How¡¯s... how¡¯s your mother?" she asked, her voice laced with genuine curiosity.


    Raezel, caught off guard, blinked twice.


    "Sor¡ªwho?" he asked, unsure if he had heard her correctly.


    Beside him, Nihaga¡ªever the calm presence¡ªspoke before Raezel could.


    "Queen Medusa," he clarified, his voice steady. "What could possibly happen to her?"


    Nyra¡¯s mother instantly realized her mistake. "Oh, of course. That was a... foolish question," she muttered, embarrassment creeping into her voice.


    Raezel chuckled softly, his tone light. "She¡¯s well, ma¡¯am. Thank you for asking."


    He wasn¡¯t offended, but he could tell Nyra¡¯s mother now wished she could disappear into the floor.


    Unfortunately for her, the awkwardness wasn¡¯t over yet.


    After a long pause, Nyra¡¯s father suddenly asked,


    "What does your father do, Raezel?"


    The room went dead silent.


    As soon as the words left his mouth, his eyes widened in horror.


    Realizing his mistake, he quickly added, "Ah, sorry, that was¡ªnever mind."


    Nyra¡¯s smirk widened.


    Her father had just asked the son of Medusa what his father did.


    Raezel, however, remained calm. He tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering in his golden eyes. "That is an excellent question."


    Nihaga, suppressing a smirk, cleared his throat. "Perhaps one best left unanswered."


    Nyra¡¯s father nodded vigorously, his face pale. "Yes. Yes, of course."


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    Nyra, unable to hold back, leaned forward. "Well, that went well."


    Her mother, desperate to salvage the conversation, blurted out another question.


    "Wha¡ªwhat do you plan for your future?"


    Nyra chuckled. "You¡¯re really struggling, huh?"


    Her mother shot her a glare. "I¡¯m trying, Nyra."


    Nyra stretched, leaning back in her chair. "It¡¯s alright," she said. "My parents have all these questions. They never thought they¡¯d be sitting with the son of Medusa."


    Her mother quickly nodded, eager to steer the conversation into safer waters.


    "So, uh... what do you like to eat, Raezel? Any preferences?"


    Raezel offered a small smile, appreciating the effort.


    "I¡¯m not picky," he said, glancing at the meal before him¡ªstew, bread, and a variety of vegetables. Simple, but made with care. "Food made with effort is always the best."


    Nyra¡¯s father let out an awkward laugh. "Well, that¡¯s a relief!"


    Then, after a moment, he scratched the back of his neck. "You must be used to fine dining, though... I imagine."


    Raezel shrugged. "A little food, a little company. That¡¯s enough for me."


    Nyra¡¯s mother blinked in surprise, then smiled. "That¡¯s... actually very humble of you."


    And just like that, the tension began to ease.


    With each passing moment, the questions grew more trivial.


    The once-overwhelming pressure in the air softened into something more familiar.


    Raezel wasn¡¯t here to judge them.


    He wasn¡¯t here to make them feel small.


    As the conversation continued, the questions became borderline absurd.


    At one point, Nyra¡¯s mother, in a moment of innocent curiosity, asked,


    "Do you ever miss the sea?"


    Raezel blinked. "I¡¯ve never been to the sea, actually."


    Nyra¡¯s father chuckled. "Well, you might like it. I mean, it¡¯s¡­ far away from the mountains, I suppose."


    For the first time, Raezel let out a genuine laugh.


    "I¡¯ll keep that in mind."


    And just like that, the dinner no longer felt like a royal visit.


    No one felt like a deity.


    No one felt like they were beneath anyone else.


    It was just a family sharing a meal with a guest.


    Even if that guest happened to be the Son of Medusa.


    As the dinner wrapped up, Nyra¡¯s parents¡ªthough still a little nervous¡ªhad finally settled into a rhythm.


    They were no longer treating Raezel like a god.


    Just a guest.


    "Thank you for joining us, P-Prince Raezel," Nyra¡¯s father said hesitantly. "It¡¯s an honor."


    Raezel nodded, keeping his tone light. "It was a pleasant evening."


    Nyra stood up, stretching. "Alright, I think that¡¯s enough talking for tonight."


    Her mother smiled, relieved. "Yes, you¡¯re right. We can talk more tomorrow."


    As they cleaned up, Raezel and Nihaga took their leave, with Nyra following them out to the gate.


    She couldn¡¯t help but smile at the thought of her parents still trying to comprehend what had just happened.


    The night felt unusually peaceful.


    For the first time, Raezel felt just a little more human to her.


    Maybe it was his calm warmth, or the way he carried himself¡ªnot as some divine terror, but simply as a man trying to find his place in the world.


    Nyra smirked. "See you tomorrow."


    Raezel returned the expression, his golden eyes softer than before.


    "See you tomorrow, Nyra."

 Chapter 27.5

    It had been thirty-four days since Raezel arrived in Velmor.


    And for the first time, the people were beginning to adjust to his presence.


    At first, there was only fear¡ªwhispers in the streets, cautious glances from merchants, stiff bows from guards who barely concealed their trembling. But as the days passed, something unexpected happened.


    They realized Raezel wasn¡¯t the monster they had imagined.


    The blacksmiths saw him walking through the market like anyone else. The bakers noticed he never made demands. The street vendors, once too afraid to even look at him, found themselves making quiet sales¡ªnot because he forced them, but because he paid like any other customer.


    And then, something even stranger happened.


    A merchant¡ªone of the older ones, with years of weariness in his eyes¡ªrefused Raezel¡¯s payment.


    Raezel, holding a loaf of bread in one hand and a few coins in the other, raised a brow. ¡°You won¡¯t take my money?¡±


    That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Nyra found Raezel standing near the palace balcony, staring out at the city.


    ¡°You¡¯re brooding,¡± she said, leaning against the railing beside him.


    Raezel smirked. ¡°I¡¯m thinking.¡±


    Nyra snorted. ¡°That¡¯s the same thing.¡±


    They stood there for a moment, watching Velmor¡¯s streets glow under the light of lanterns.


    Then Nyra stretched. "Come with me."


    Raezel gave her a sideways glance. "Where?"


    Nyra grinned. "Just trust me."


    Reluctantly, he followed her through the city¡¯s winding streets, past the market district, past the quiet homes, and finally up a narrow, crumbling staircase leading to an old watchtower.


    When they reached the top, Raezel raised a brow. ¡°You brought me to a pile of bricks?¡±


    Nyra rolled her eyes. ¡°Shut up and look.¡±


    And he did.


    From up here, Velmor stretched beneath them, bathed in silver moonlight. The river shimmered in the distance, the streets below were alive with quiet movement, and beyond the city¡¯s walls, the mountains stood tall like silent guardians.


    It was beautiful.


    Nyra plopped down on the stone floor, arms resting behind her head. ¡°This is my favorite place in the whole city.¡±


    Raezel sat beside her, glancing at her. "Why?"


    Nyra sighed. "Because from up here, Velmor doesn¡¯t seem so... broken. You can almost pretend it''s just like any other kingdom.¡±


    Raezel leaned back, resting his arms on his knees. "But it¡¯s not."


    Nyra shook her head. "No. But I like to pretend, sometimes."


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    For a long moment, neither of them spoke.


    Then Nyra turned to him, smirking. ¡°What about you? If you could be anywhere else right now, where would you go?¡±


    Raezel didn¡¯t answer right away. He thought about it¡ªabout the Dark Realm, about his mother¡¯s throne, about places he¡¯d been and places he¡¯d never see.


    And then he simply said, ¡°Here is fine.¡±


    Nyra blinked. Then, to his surprise, she smiled.


    It had been thirty-four days since Raezel arrived in Velmor.


    And for the first time, the people were beginning to adjust to his presence.


    At first, there was only fear¡ªwhispers in the streets, cautious glances from merchants, stiff bows from guards who barely concealed their trembling. But as the days passed, something unexpected happened.


    They realized Raezel wasn¡¯t the monster they had imagined.


    The blacksmiths saw him walking through the market like anyone else. The bakers noticed he never made demands. The street vendors, once too afraid to even look at him, found themselves making quiet sales¡ªnot because he forced them, but because he paid like any other customer.


    And then, something even stranger happened.


    A merchant¡ªone of the older ones, with years of weariness in his eyes¡ªrefused Raezel¡¯s payment.


    Raezel, holding a loaf of bread in one hand and a few coins in the other, raised a brow. ¡°You won¡¯t take my money?¡±


    That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Nyra found Raezel standing near the palace balcony, staring out at the city.


    ¡°You¡¯re brooding,¡± she said, leaning against the railing beside him.


    Raezel smirked. ¡°I¡¯m thinking.¡±


    Nyra snorted. ¡°That¡¯s the same thing.¡±


    They stood there for a moment, watching Velmor¡¯s streets glow under the light of lanterns.


    Then Nyra stretched. "Come with me."


    Raezel gave her a sideways glance. "Where?"


    Nyra grinned. "Just trust me."


    Reluctantly, he followed her through the city¡¯s winding streets, past the market district, past the quiet homes, and finally up a narrow, crumbling staircase leading to an old watchtower.


    When they reached the top, Raezel raised a brow. ¡°You brought me to a pile of bricks?¡±


    Nyra rolled her eyes. ¡°Shut up and look.¡±


    And he did.


    From up here, Velmor stretched beneath them, bathed in silver moonlight. The river shimmered in the distance, the streets below were alive with quiet movement, and beyond the city¡¯s walls, the mountains stood tall like silent guardians.


    It was beautiful.


    Nyra plopped down on the stone floor, arms resting behind her head. ¡°This is my favorite place in the whole city.¡±


    Raezel sat beside her, glancing at her. "Why?"


    Nyra sighed. "Because from up here, Velmor doesn¡¯t seem so... broken. You can almost pretend it''s just like any other kingdom.¡±


    Raezel leaned back, resting his arms on his knees. "But it¡¯s not."


    Nyra shook her head. "No. But I like to pretend, sometimes."


    For a long moment, neither of them spoke.


    Then Nyra turned to him, smirking. ¡°What about you? If you could be anywhere else right now, where would you go?¡±


    Raezel didn¡¯t answer right away. He thought about it¡ªabout the Dark Realm, about his mother¡¯s throne, about places he¡¯d been and places he¡¯d never see.


    And then he simply said, ¡°Here is fine.¡±


    Nyra blinked. Then, to his surprise, she smiled.


    They stayed there for a while, just watching the city.


    But as the night stretched on, something changed.


    A cold wind rolled through the streets, carrying a strange weight with it.


    Velmor was quiet¡ªtoo quiet.


    Raezel suddenly tensed. His golden eyes flickered toward the horizon, his expression unreadable.


    Nyra noticed. ¡°What is it?¡±


    Raezel exhaled softly. ¡°She¡¯s coming.¡±


    Nyra blinked. ¡°She?¡±


    But before he could answer¡ª


    A messenger burst through the palace gates, panting heavily.


    The King, still awake in the halls, turned sharply. ¡°What is it?¡±


    The messenger fell to one knee, his face pale.


    ¡°Queen Medusa approaches Velmor.¡±


    Silence.


    The King gripped the armrests of his throne. He had expected this day to come¡ªbut not so soon.


    ¡°When?¡± he asked, his voice tight.


    ¡°By dawn.¡±


    A shudder passed through the room.


    The King closed his eyes briefly. So, it was time.


    He turned to his advisors, his voice firm. ¡°Wake the court. Prepare the palace.¡±


    He knew Medusa was coming¡ªbut that did not make her presence any less terrifying.

 Chapter 28

    Raezel had found something in Velmor he never thought possible¡ªa sense of belonging.


    The people were still cautious, still wary. But it was different here. They did not bow in fear, trembling like lesser beings before a deity. They did not cast him out for his bloodline, nor did they try to mold him into a weapon.


    They simply... accepted him.


    But today, the air shifted.


    A presence unlike any other descended upon Velmor¡¯s palace, heavy and suffocating, like the weight of an entire myth pressing down on reality itself.


    Medusa had arrived.


    The throne hall fell into an eerie silence as the Queen of Terror entered. Her every step echoed through the chamber, the marble floor seemingly trembling beneath her. King Velmor, his advisors, the guards¡ªevery single one of them stiffened, barely daring to breathe.


    Reazel, standing near the center, turned to face his mother.


    Medusa¡¯s eyes, golden and piercing, locked onto her son. ¡°It is time to leave, my son¡±


    Her voice was calm, but it left no room for argument. It was not a request. It was a command.


    Reazel exhaled slowly, his hands clenching at his sides. ¡°No.¡±


    A flicker of amusement danced across Medusa¡¯s face, but only for a moment. ¡°No?¡±


    Reazel met her gaze, unwavering. ¡°I don¡¯t want to leave.¡±


    Silence.


    The court members looked at each other, then at the King, who looked like he was about to faint.


    Medusa¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change, but her presence grew heavier. ¡°Why should I accept this?¡±


    Before Reazel could speak, Nyra stepped forward.


    ¡°Because he doesn¡¯t need to.¡±


    All eyes turned to her.


    The King¡¯s mouth fell open. The advisors whispered furiously amongst themselves. Nihaga raised a brow, clearly amused.


    Nyra, however, was completely unfazed by the legendary terror standing before her.


    She folded her arms and smirked. ¡°He¡¯s the son of Medusa. Isn¡¯t that enough? Doesn¡¯t that give him the privilege to do whatever he wants, without having to justify himself to anyone?¡±


    A deadly silence followed.


    The King turned to Nihaga, whispering in panic, ¡°Did she just¡ª?¡±


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    Nihaga grinned. ¡°Oh, she did.¡±


    Medusa tilted her head slightly, her golden eyes narrowing. ¡°You think privilege comes without expectation? Without consequences?¡±


    Nyra shrugged. ¡°I think Reazel has been forced into expectations his entire life. But what if he doesn¡¯t want to live as a deity? What if he just wants to be... normal?¡±


    Medusa¡¯s lips curled into something between amusement and irritation. ¡°Normal!!!? Do you think mortal normal is an option for him? For any of my blood?¡±


    Nyra took a step closer.


    ¡°Everywhere he goes, people either fear him or envy him. Giants, gods, mortals¡ªthey all either see him as a threat. Nobody has ever treated him like an equal, like a person. But here? Here, he isn¡¯t feared. He isn¡¯t worshipped. He¡¯s just... Reazel.¡±


    Medusa¡¯s gaze darkened. ¡°And you believe somehow that just changed who he is?¡±


    Nyra smirked. ¡°I believe he should decide what he is. Not his bloodline. Not fear. Not fate. Not even his mother¡ªyou.¡±


    The tension in the air was immense.


    The King, now sweating bullets, turned to Nihaga. ¡°She¡¯s insane.¡±


    Nihaga chuckled. ¡°She¡¯s got guts.¡±


    The advisors, meanwhile, whispered among themselves:


    ¡°Did she really just argue with Medusa?¡±


    ¡°She must have a death wish.¡±


    ¡°Or she¡¯s just stupid.¡±


    ¡°Or both.¡±


    Medusa exhaled, slow and deliberate. Then she turned to Reazel. ¡°And you, my son? Would you choose the same?¡±


    Reazel looked at his mother, then at Nyra. He smiled¡ªsoft but certain, then nodded in Yes.


    For a long moment, Medusa said nothing. Then, to the shock of everyone in the room¡ªshe laughed.


    It was quiet, brief, but unmistakable.


    The King nearly fell out of his throne. ¡°SHE LAUGHED?¡±


    Nihaga smirked.


    Medusa sighed, shaking her head. ¡°You have always been like this, My son.¡± She glanced at Nyra. ¡°And it seems you have found a company that suits you.¡±


    Medusa turned away, her presence still looming over the court. ¡°Very well. You can live here in Velmor for a bit longer, I will not take you this time. ¡±


    The tension broke. The King nearly collapsed with relief. The advisors wiped sweat from their brows.


    Medusa, however, wasn¡¯t finished.


    She looked at Nyra. ¡°I let my son, Reazel live in Velmor for a bit longer, but if he gets hurt by any means¡ªI will return and burn Velmor to ashes.¡±


    Nyra smirked. ¡°Deal.¡±


    Then¡ªsuddenly¡ªtwo figures emerged from behind the medusa.


    Medusa¡¯s other children.


    Nyssa and Krios.


    Nyssa, the older of the two, leaned against Medusa¡¯s shoulder, studying Nyra. ¡°You¡¯re bold.¡±


    Krios, the younger, grinned. ¡°I like her boldness¡±


    Nyra raised a brow. ¡°You guys are...?¡±


    Nyssa smirked. ¡°Elder sister of your foolish friend.¡±


    Krios. ¡°I am the middle one¡±


    Krios nudged Reazel. ¡°You found yourself an interesting one, younger brother.¡±


    Reazel chuckled. ¡°I know.¡±


    The King, still overwhelmed, took a deep breath and did the only thing he could think of¡ªhe requested Medusa to stay for dinner.


    Medusa regarded him with amusement but did not decline. ¡°Very well. Let us see if Velmor¡¯s hospitality is as bold as its people.¡±


    And with that, the most unexpected dinner in Velmor¡¯s history was about to begin.

 Chapter 29

    Raezel had found something in Velmor he never thought possible¡ªa sense of belonging.


    The people were still cautious, still wary. But it was different here. They did not bow in fear, trembling like lesser beings before a deity. They did not cast him out for his bloodline, nor did they try to mold him into a weapon.


    They simply... accepted him.


    But today, the air shifted.


    A presence unlike any other descended upon Velmor¡¯s palace, heavy and suffocating, like the weight of an entire myth pressing down on reality itself.


    Medusa had arrived.


    The throne hall fell into an eerie silence as the Queen of Terror entered. Her every step echoed through the chamber, the marble floor seemingly trembling beneath her. King Velmor, his advisors, the guards¡ªevery single one of them stiffened, barely daring to breathe.


    Reazel, standing near the center, turned to face his mother.


    Medusa¡¯s eyes, golden and piercing, locked onto her son. ¡°It is time to leave, my son¡±


    Her voice was calm, but it left no room for argument. It was not a request. It was a command.


    Reazel exhaled slowly, his hands clenching at his sides. ¡°No.¡±


    A flicker of amusement danced across Medusa¡¯s face, but only for a moment. ¡°No?¡±


    Reazel met her gaze, unwavering. ¡°I don¡¯t want to leave.¡±


    Silence.


    The court members looked at each other, then at the King, who looked like he was about to faint.


    Medusa¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change, but her presence grew heavier. ¡°Why should I accept this?¡±


    Before Reazel could speak, Nyra stepped forward.


    ¡°Because he doesn¡¯t need to.¡±


    All eyes turned to her.


    The King¡¯s mouth fell open. The advisors whispered furiously amongst themselves. Nihaga raised a brow, clearly amused.


    Nyra, however, was completely unfazed by the legendary terror standing before her.


    She folded her arms and smirked. ¡°He¡¯s the son of Medusa. Isn¡¯t that enough? Doesn¡¯t that give him the privilege to do whatever he wants, without having to justify himself to anyone?¡±


    A deadly silence followed.


    The King turned to Nihaga, whispering in panic, ¡°Did she just¡ª?¡±


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    Nihaga grinned. ¡°Oh, she did.¡±


    Medusa tilted her head slightly, her golden eyes narrowing. ¡°You think privilege comes without expectation? Without consequences?¡±


    Nyra shrugged. ¡°I think Reazel has been forced into expectations his entire life. But what if he doesn¡¯t want to live as a deity? What if he just wants to be... normal?¡±


    Medusa¡¯s lips curled into something between amusement and irritation. ¡°Normal!!!? Do you think mortal normal is an option for him? For any of my blood?¡±


    Nyra took a step closer.


    ¡°Everywhere he goes, people either fear him or envy him. Giants, gods, mortals¡ªthey all either see him as a threat. Nobody has ever treated him like an equal, like a person. But here? Here, he isn¡¯t feared. He isn¡¯t worshipped. He¡¯s just... Reazel.¡±


    Medusa¡¯s gaze darkened. ¡°And you believe somehow that just changed who he is?¡±


    Nyra smirked. ¡°I believe he should decide what he is. Not his bloodline. Not fear. Not fate. Not even his mother¡ªyou.¡±


    The tension in the air was immense.


    The King, now sweating bullets, turned to Nihaga. ¡°She¡¯s insane.¡±


    Nihaga chuckled. ¡°She¡¯s got guts.¡±


    The advisors, meanwhile, whispered among themselves:


    ¡°Did she really just argue with Medusa?¡±


    ¡°She must have a death wish.¡±


    ¡°Or she¡¯s just stupid.¡±


    ¡°Or both.¡±


    Medusa exhaled, slow and deliberate. Then she turned to Reazel. ¡°And you, my son? Would you choose the same?¡±


    Reazel looked at his mother, then at Nyra. He smiled¡ªsoft but certain, then nodded in Yes.


    For a long moment, Medusa said nothing. Then, to the shock of everyone in the room¡ªshe laughed.


    It was quiet, brief, but unmistakable.


    The King nearly fell out of his throne. ¡°SHE LAUGHED?¡±


    Nihaga smirked.


    Medusa sighed, shaking her head. ¡°You have always been like this, My son.¡± She glanced at Nyra. ¡°And it seems you have found a company that suits you.¡±


    Medusa turned away, her presence still looming over the court. ¡°Very well. You can live here in Velmor for a bit longer, I will not take you this time. ¡±


    The tension broke. The King nearly collapsed with relief. The advisors wiped sweat from their brows.


    Medusa, however, wasn¡¯t finished.


    She looked at Nyra. ¡°I let my son, Reazel live in Velmor for a bit longer, but if he gets hurt by any means¡ªI will return and burn Velmor to ashes.¡±


    Nyra smirked. ¡°Deal.¡±


    Then¡ªsuddenly¡ªtwo figures emerged from behind the medusa.


    Medusa¡¯s other children.


    Nyssa and Krios.


    Nyssa, the older of the two, leaned against Medusa¡¯s shoulder, studying Nyra. ¡°You¡¯re bold.¡±


    Krios, the younger, grinned. ¡°I like her boldness¡±


    Nyra raised a brow. ¡°You guys are...?¡±


    Nyssa smirked. ¡°Elder sister of your foolish friend.¡±


    Krios. ¡°I am the middle one¡±


    Krios nudged Reazel. ¡°You found yourself an interesting one, younger brother.¡±


    Reazel chuckled. ¡°I know.¡±


    The King, still overwhelmed, took a deep breath and did the only thing he could think of¡ªhe requested Medusa to stay for dinner.


    Medusa regarded him with amusement but did not decline. ¡°Very well. Let us see if Velmor¡¯s hospitality is as bold as its people.¡±


    And with that, the most unexpected dinner in Velmor¡¯s history was about to begin.

 Chapter 30

    The grand dining hall of Velmor was deathly silent. The torches flickered uneasily, casting long, restless shadows across the towering stone pillars. King Eldors sat frozen at the head of the table, gripping the edge as if the polished wood might anchor him in reality.


    Because reality, as he knew it, had just collapsed.


    For years, he had navigated fragile alliances, played political games, and avoided outright destruction by balancing on a knife¡¯s edge. But nothing¡ªnot diplomacy, not strategy, not even divine blessings¡ªhad prepared him for this moment.


    ¡°You¡¯re serious?¡± he finally managed, though his voice came out strained, barely more than a whisper. ¡°You truly believe you can win?¡±


    Krios, ever the warrior, flashed a grin. ¡°Would I joke about war?¡±


    Eldors squinted. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Would you?¡±


    Krios gave an exaggerated shrug. ¡°Fair point.¡±


    The king exhaled sharply and turned his gaze to Raezel and Nyssa, but his fingers tightened against the wood, his knuckles paling. He had ruled for decades. Commanded armies. Signed pacts that determined the fate of thousands. But under Medusa¡¯s gaze, he felt small.


    Still, he forced himself to speak.


    ¡°I do not question your strength¡­ but Arathis is not some backwater kingdom.¡± He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. ¡°Their trade alone is valued at two trillion gold coins annually. Their soldiers are trained beyond human limits, their rulers backed by divine favor. Their merchants control half the continent¡¯s economy, and they are blessed by Apollo himself. If they wish to crush Velmor, they will crush Velmor.¡±


    He hesitated, then added, voice lowering¡ª


    ¡°They have done it before.¡±


    Nyssa¡¯s gaze sharpened. ¡°Explain.¡±


    Eldors exhaled, his grip on the table turning his fingers bone-white.


    ¡°Arathis is not a nation.¡± His voice dropped to something quieter, heavier. ¡°It is a machine.¡±


    The hall seemed to shrink around them.


    ¡°In the last war, they slaughtered an entire city in a single night.¡± Eldors¡¯ breath hitched, his eyes flickering as if recalling something best left buried. ¡°No survivors. No resistance. Just fire and silence.¡±


    A long pause.


    Then¡ªMedusa spoke.


    ¡°Eldors.¡±


    The room dimmed. Not from magic, but from something far worse. The air grew heavier, thick with an unseen force that made the very stone walls seem to bow in submission. The flickering torches withered in their sconces, their flames shrinking as if afraid.


    A cold bead of sweat slid down Eldors¡¯ temple.


    He willed himself not to react, but his fingers trembled against the polished wood. His instincts screamed at him to look away. To lower his gaze and submit. He nearly did.


    But some fragile, foolish part of him resisted.


    ¡°You doubt them?¡± Medusa¡¯s voice was soft, yet it sliced through the silence like a blade pressed to his throat.


    Eldors swallowed. His tongue felt like sandpaper. Medusa leaned forward, resting her chin on the back of her hand, her gaze never leaving him. The table between them felt insignificant, as if it offered no real barrier to the force of her presence.


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    ¡°Tell me, King Eldors,¡± Medusa murmured, indulgent yet warning.


    She did not need to prove her children¡¯s worth. She only needed to speak it into existence. Yet beneath her poised expression, something else lurked¡ªsomething colder. Something wounded.


    Her fingers curled against the polished wood. The torches flickered again. The storm in her golden irises deepened.


    Nyssa and Krios exchanged a glance¡ªthey recognized the warning signs. Even Raezel, unreadable as ever, tensed slightly.


    Then, Medusa smiled.


    It was slow.


    It was knowing.


    And it carried doom.


    ¡°Very well, King of Velmor,¡± she said, voice like silk woven around steel. ¡°Since you doubt my children¡¯s ability, allow me to give you a demonstration.¡±


    She turned her gaze to Raezel, Nyssa, and Krios. ¡°¡°You will reclaim Velmor with your own hands, without the weight of my name to shield you.¡±


    The air shifted. The silence thickened. Even the torches seemed to recoil.


    ¡°My name will not be used. My influence will not be your shield. You will complete this task on your own. And when you succeed¡­¡± Her eyes flickered back to Eldors, unreadable, powerful. ¡°¡­the world will learn that the children of Medusa are not feared because of me. They are feared because of who they are.¡±


    Nyssa exhaled slowly, smirking. ¡°Very well.¡±


    Raezel¡¯s golden eyes gleamed. ¡°Understood.¡±


    Krios chuckled, rolling his shoulders. ¡°Now this? This is a challenge.¡±


    And just like that¡ªthe game had begun.


    ***


    Velmor was worse than they had imagined.


    Nyssa, Krios, and Raezel had prepared for obstacles¡ªcorrupt trade routes, political instability, maybe even economic struggles.


    Instead, they found nothing.


    No resources.


    No allies.


    No army.


    Velmor was not a kingdom. It was a failed project held together by luck and prayers.


    Nyssa sat in the so-called Royal Strategy Hall, which was really just a dusty old chamber with a cracked table and some maps that looked like they had been drawn by a drunken toddler.


    She pressed her fingers to her temples. ¡°You mean to tell me¡­ there is nothing to sell? Not even salt?¡±


    King Eldors, looking oddly proud, straightened. ¡°We have¡­ hope?¡±


    Nyssa blinked. Then, very calmly, she said, ¡°Hope isn¡¯t a tradeable commodity.¡±


    Reazel, rubbing his temples, exhaled slowly. ¡°Alright. How do you feed your people?¡±


    One of the Velmorian officials hesitated. ¡°¡­We¡­ try our best?¡±


    Nyssa¡¯ eye twitched. ¡°Try your best?! TRY YOUR BEST?! That¡¯s not a strategy¡ªthat¡¯s a death sentence!¡±


    Nyssa buried her face in her hands. ¡°How¡­ HOW have you survived this long?!¡±


    King Eldors, still dead serious: ¡°Because no one wants to waste time conquering us.¡±


    Meanwhile, Krios inspected Velmor¡¯s army¡ªor what passed for one.


    Ten of them were old farmers holding pitchforks.


    Twelve were kids, none of them armed.


    Twenty-two were barely trained, most of them visibly terrified.


    And the remaining one was a retired mercenary¡ªthe most powerful soldier, and also the Commander of Velmor¡¯s army.


    Krios folded his arms, his gaze sweeping over the ragtag group. ¡°Where¡­ where is the rest?¡± he asked, his voice tight with disbelief.


    The General shuffled awkwardly, his gaze flickering from side to side. ¡°Uh... This is all we have.¡±


    Krios blinked, his eyes widening in shock. ¡°Wait. WAIT. WHAT?!¡±


    He sank down onto a nearby rock, clearly in need of a moment to process what he¡¯d just seen.


    Later that day, Raezel, however, remained eerily calm. He had known Velmor was weak, but even he hadn¡¯t expected it to be this dire. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, his expression unreadable.


    The challenge ahead hadn¡¯t changed.


    ¡°We¡¯ll fix this,¡± he said, his voice unwavering, carrying a weight of quiet resolve.


    Nyssa gave him a sharp look, one eyebrow arched as if she didn¡¯t quite believe him. ¡°And how, dear brother, do you propose we fix a kingdom that is¡ªby every definition¡ªa disaster?¡±


    Raezel¡¯s smirk spread slowly across his face, his golden eyes gleaming with an almost dangerous confidence. He stood taller, the weight of his words making his next statement all the more potent.


    ¡°Fix it?¡± He echoed her question with a quiet laugh. ¡°No, sister. We will make Velmor something worth fearing.¡±

 Chapter 31

    Krios, commander of Medusa¡¯s army¡ªa force powerful enough to reduce Velmor to ruins before sunset¡ªstood before what passed as Velmor¡¯s military.


    A ragged, half-starved collection of farmers, merchants, and retired soldiers standing in what could barely be called formation.


    Krios exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair.


    "This is ridiculous."


    His golden eyes swept across the pitiful ranks. Some had weapons too rusted to be effective, others held wooden staffs instead of swords.


    But what truly irritated him¡ª


    "There seem to be fewer people today."


    The words hung in the air. No one answered.


    Then¡ª


    "A-Ah¡­ actually, Krios¡­" a hesitant voice emerged from the group.


    A young soldier stepped forward, visibly uneasy. "Three of our men were heavily injured, and two others are tending to them."


    Krios¡¯ expression darkened.


    "Heavily injured?" His voice came out sharper than intended.


    Another soldier stepped forward, jaw tight, fists clenched. His uniform was torn and dirt-streaked.


    "The Dori Tribe raided one of Velmor¡¯s villages last night." His voice tightened with anger. "Our men went to defend the people, but¡­" He hesitated. "They were outnumbered. Brutally attacked."


    A cold silence settled over the camp.


    Krios didn¡¯t move. Didn¡¯t speak.


    But his golden irises burned.


    "Take me to them."


    ***


    The healing sanctuary smelled of herbs, incense, and blood. Dim torchlight flickered against stone walls, casting trembling shadows.


    Krios entered, his gaze immediately locking onto the injured soldiers.


    Three of them lay motionless on the stone beds. Their bodies wrapped in thick, glistening silver webs¡ªthe silk of the Aracel Spider, a creature whose threads carried potent healing properties.


    By their beds, two exhausted soldiers sat, their eyes red-rimmed, their bodies tense with guilt and helplessness.


    Krios stepped closer. His voice, though steady, carried an edge of restrained fury.


    "How long until they recover?"


    The shaman tending to them hesitated before responding. "A few days. The Aracel silk accelerates healing, but¡­" She met his gaze. "Their wounds were deep. They will live, but they won¡¯t be fighting anytime soon."


    Krios¡¯ fingers curled into fists.


    "Who are the Dori Tribe?" His voice dropped, the weight behind it making even the torches flicker.


    Commander Daelus stepped forward, his battered armor reflecting the dim firelight.


    "A bandit faction. They raid, burn villages, take whatever they can get their hands on." His jaw tightened. "Velmor has been struggling with them for years."


    A bitter laugh came from another soldier.


    "We¡¯ve begged for help¡ªmercenaries, warriors, even temple priests." His voice turned grim. "But the Dori always survives. Even witches failed to curse them into oblivion."


    Krios¡¯ gaze flickered with something dangerous.


    "Where do they hide?"


    Daelus hesitated. Then¡ª"A dense forest a few kilometers from here. They always retreat there after an attack."


    Krios smirked.


    "Then let¡¯s go. I¡¯ve been wanting to meet them."


    Something in his voice sent a chill down the soldiers¡¯ spines.


    ***


    The entrance to the jungle loomed ahead, a wall of gnarled trees and impenetrable darkness. The thick scent of damp earth and decay clung to the air.


    Behind him, the small squad of soldiers stood, shifting uneasily.


    Krios raised a hand. "Stop."


    Commander Daelus stiffened. "Krios, what are you¡ª"


    "I¡¯m going alone."


    Stunned silence.


    Then¡ª


    "That¡¯s suicide!" Daelus nearly stumbled forward. "We should at least¡ª"


    Krios turned, flashing a mischievous, almost predatory grin.


    "I am the Son of Medusa." His golden irises gleamed in the darkness. "What could possibly happen to me?"


    Before anyone could argue¡ª


    He stepped into the shadows of the forest.


    And disappeared.


    The air changed instantly.


    The moment he entered the jungle, the world became too quiet.


    No wind. No rustling leaves. No distant animal calls.


    Just¡ªsilence.


    Krios moved like a shadow, his senses sharp, every sound amplified. His boots pressed into the damp earth, barely making a sound. The dense canopy above let in only thin slivers of light.


    His golden eyes glowed faintly in the darkness.


    "Now¡­" He murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "Where would a band of lowlife cowards be hiding?"


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    Then¡ª


    "And what will you do when you find them?"


    Krios froze.


    The voice was too close.


    His hand immediately went for his blade.


    But before he could react¡ª


    THWIP.


    A sharp sting.


    His breath hitched.


    He reached for his neck¡ª


    A small dart was embedded in his skin.


    His vision blurred. His limbs slackened.


    "Poison?"


    His body staggered backward, but his legs wouldn¡¯t move. His arms wouldn¡¯t respond.


    Footsteps.


    A figure emerged from the trees, shadowed, unreadable.


    Krios¡¯ mouth opened¡ªto curse, to fight back¡ª


    But darkness swallowed him whole.


    The jungle was thick with shadows and silence. Moonlight barely pierced through the canopy, and the scent of damp earth clung to the air.


    A large man dragged Krios¡¯ unconscious body through the undergrowth, his breath ragged from the effort.


    In the clearing ahead, a throne of wood and skulls stood at the center of a dimly lit encampment. Seated atop it was a figure watching the scene unfold with mild amusement.


    The man hauling Krios raised his voice, panting between words.


    "Zora! This boy came into the jungle looking for us!"


    The figure on the throne stood, stretching lazily before stepping forward. Zora¡¯s dark eyes glinted in the torchlight, his tone filled with disbelief.


    "You mean this boy came here willingly? Looking for us?"


    "Yes!"


    Before another word could be spoken¡ª


    A voice interrupted.


    "That¡¯s right."


    Zora¡¯s entire body stiffened.


    The man dragging Krios whirled around¡ªonly to find Krios standing right behind him, completely awake.


    A slow grin spread across Krios¡¯ face.


    "I was looking for you."


    Zora and his men jumped back in shock.


    The man who had poisoned him stumbled, his face pale.


    "H-How is this possible?! I used the most powerful paralyzing poison on him!" The man¡¯s voice cracked, his hands trembling.


    Krios patted the man¡¯s shoulder, grinning.


    "Yeah, that must be frustrating, huh?" He sighed dramatically. "I know how it feels when your plans don¡¯t work."


    The man flinched.


    Krios tilted his head, his golden eyes gleaming.


    "Actually, it¡¯s not your fault." His voice dropped lower, amusement laced with something more dangerous. "Trust me, man¡­ it¡¯s just that venom and poison don¡¯t work on me."


    His words hung in the air, making Zora¡¯s men uneasy.


    Krios blinked¡ªthen rolled his eyes slightly, as if deep in thought.


    "Almost."


    Before anyone could ask what he meant¡ª


    WHIZZ!


    An arrow shot towards his head.


    In a single motion, Krios snatched it out of the air.


    The jungle fell silent.


    Holding the arrow between two fingers, he examined it briefly before snapping it in half with a flick.


    Zora¡¯s men tensed.


    Then¡ªa figure lunged from behind, wrapping powerful arms around Krios¡¯ throat.


    Krios staggered slightly, feeling the grip tighten.


    The attacker¡¯s voice hissed in his ear. "Let¡¯s see how you fight when you can¡¯t breathe."


    Krios let out a mock breathless chuckle. "Oh no, I can¡¯t breathe¡­ whatever will I do?"


    Then, his golden eyes gleamed.


    He tapped his chest lazily, smirking. "You know, I can fight underwater."


    His gaze locked onto his attacker, voice dropping to a deadly calm.


    "Man¡­ you really picked the wrong person to choke."


    The attacker hesitated. "What?"


    Before he could react¡ª


    Krios snapped his fist backward¡ªa brutal, calculated punch aimed straight for his attacker¡¯s face.


    A sickening CRACK.


    The man flew backward, slamming into a tree trunk with a dull thud. He slumped over, dazed, blood trickling from his nose.


    Krios brushed dust off his shoulder.


    "Go check if he¡¯s still breathing," he said lazily to one of the Dori men. "I have a job for him."


    The man nodded stiffly and ran to his fallen comrade.


    The remaining Dori warriors hesitated.


    Then¡ªone lunged forward with a spear.


    Krios dodged left.


    Another attack. Right.


    The spear swung for his legs¡ª


    Krios jumped, landing on a single hand before delivering a devastating kick to the attacker¡¯s jaw.


    The man collapsed instantly.


    Krios flipped back onto his feet, spreading his arms like a performer awaiting applause.


    To his surprise¡ª


    The Dori warriors actually clapped.


    Krios grinned. "Now that¡¯s the spirit."


    Then¡ªZora stepped forward.


    "You¡¯re a fighter, huh?" His voice was low, intrigued. He unsheathed two daggers. "Let¡¯s see how good you really are."


    He hurled one dagger directly at Krios¡¯ chest.


    Krios sidestepped effortlessly.


    Then, in a blur of motion¡ªZora threw his second dagger, full force.


    This one was different.


    It was faster. More precise. Aiming directly for Krios¡¯ face.


    And yet¡ª


    Just before the blade could reach him, Krios raised two fingers.


    SNAP.


    The dagger stopped midair¡ªpinched between Krios¡¯ fingertips.


    The jungle fell silent.


    Krios twirled the blade idly, spinning it between his fingers like a toy.


    Then¡ªhe flicked it back.


    Zora tried to dodge¡ªbut failed.


    The dagger whizzed past his face, slicing his ear cleanly. It embedded itself into a boulder behind him, the force cracking the stone.


    Zora touched the side of his head, staring at the blood on his fingers.


    His lips curled in fury.


    "Monster."


    Krios smiled.


    "Nice to meet you." He raised a hand and waved cheerfully. "I¡¯m Krios, the Son of Medusa."


    ***


    Krios stood over the defeated Dori warriors.


    Some were still groaning in pain, others sitting in formation like scolded children.


    Krios sat lazily on a boulder, stretching.


    "Alright," he began, cracking his knuckles. "Let¡¯s get to business."


    The Dori men stared at him in disbelief.


    "You all seem pretty strong."


    No one answered.


    "You all can fight."


    Again, silence.


    Then Krios smiled¡ªtoo friendly, too sharp.


    "Then from now on, you work for Velmor¡¯s army."


    The Dori men exchanged stunned glances. Zora¡¯s jaw clenched.


    No one agreed.


    Krios sighed.


    Then¡ªhe cracked his knuckles.


    "If you refuse, I¡¯ll beat you all again." His voice was light, almost cheerful. "And I¡¯ll keep beating you until you agree to work for Velmor¡¯s army."


    Silence.


    Then¡ªone Dori warrior coughed, then stood.


    "I¡¯ll join Velmor¡¯s army."


    Zora turned sharply, eyes narrowing. "What?!"


    The man shrugged helplessly.


    "Didn¡¯t you hear him? He¡¯ll beat us again. And he beats pretty hard. My bones are still trembling."


    More murmurs.


    Then¡ªZora turned away, coughing once.


    "Fine. I¡¯ll join Velmor¡¯s army."


    One by one, every Dori member nodded in agreement.

 Chapter 32

    King Eldors sat frozen on his throne, his fingers gripping the armrests like a man who had just witnessed the impossible. The council members around him were equally pale, their mouths slightly open in shock.


    Because standing in the great hall of Velmor¡ªproud, bruised, and horribly confused¡ªwas the once-feared Dori Bandit Clan.


    Well. What used to be a bandit clan.


    Now, they were¡­ Velmor¡¯s new military force.


    At the front of the group, their former leader¡ªstill slightly disoriented from his one-on-one "negotiation" with Krios¡ªstood stiffly, his face twitching as if he couldn''t quite process his new reality. Behind him, his men shuffled awkwardly, avoiding the judgmental stares of Velmor¡¯s existing soldiers.


    King Eldors finally found his voice. "I¡­ I beg your pardon, General Krios, but are you telling me that you¡ª"


    Krios, standing confidently in the middle of the hall, clapped a hand on the Dori Leader¡¯s shoulder. "Recruited an army? Yes, that¡¯s exactly what I did."


    The Dori Leader opened his mouth to protest but then thought better of it. His ribs were still aching from Krios¡¯ "persuasion."


    Nyssa, standing beside Raezel, massaged her temples. "Krios, you can¡¯t just recruit criminals into the army."


    Krios: "They¡¯re not criminals anymore. They¡¯re soldiers now."


    Nyssa: "That¡¯s not how it works¡ª"


    Krios: "That¡¯s exactly how it works. They fought well. They¡¯re strong. We need numbers. Problem solved."


    King Eldors sputtered. "These men have been looting and terrorizing Velmor for years!"


    Krios stepped forward, sweeping his gaze across the council, the soldiers, and the new recruits. His voice was steady, unwavering.


    "You have soldiers who can die for this nation. Now, you will have soldiers who can kill for this nation."


    Silence.


    Then¡ª


    One of Velmor¡¯s soldiers, a grizzled veteran with gray in his beard, stepped forward. He eyed Krios, then the Dori recruits.


    "Krios," he said slowly. "Are we supposed to just¡­ accept these criminals into our ranks?"


    Krios smirked. "Oh, no. You¡¯re supposed to train them. In return, they¡¯ll teach you how to fight dirty."


    A beat of silence.


    One of the Velmor soldiers muttered, "We already fight dirty. That¡¯s the only way we survive."


    The Dori Leader scoffed. "No offense, but you call that dirty fighting? You¡¯re amateurs."


    Another Velmor soldier stepped forward, folding his arms. "Oh yeah? And you think you¡¯re better?"


    The Dori Leader grinned. *"We used to beat your forces all the time."


    The Velmor soldier sneered. "That¡¯s because you cheated."


    The Dori Leader smirked. "And what do you think war is, my friend? A gentleman¡¯s duel?"


    Krios clapped his hands. "See? You guys are already bonding. This is great teamwork."


    Both sides glared at him.


    The citizens of Velmor had gathered outside the castle, waiting for news of this "army expansion."


    What they expected was some sort of structured military recruitment process.


    What they got was a horde of notorious criminals, standing in a line, wearing Velmor¡¯s colors, looking just as confused as everyone else.


    A baker who had been robbed by the Dori Bandits last winter turned to his neighbor. "I¡¯m not crazy, right? That¡¯s the same guy who stole my flour last year."


    His neighbor, clutching a sack of potatoes, nodded slowly. "Yep. That¡¯s him."


    A merchant scoffed. "So they¡¯re soldiers now? What next? The tax collectors will be former pickpockets?"


    A noblewoman, fanning herself dramatically, whispered, "I fear for this kingdom¡¯s future."


    A blacksmith, however, cracked his knuckles with a grin. "Well. At least now we¡¯ll have an army that actually knows how to fight."


    Raezel, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke. "Krios. Are you sure you can control them?"


    Krios rolled his shoulders, his expression unwavering. "Oh, they¡¯ll listen. They already know what happens if they don¡¯t."


    The Dori Leader winced. "Yeah. We really do."


    Nyssa sighed, rubbing her temples again. "I hate to admit it, but Krios isn¡¯t wrong. We need an army. And these men¡ª" she glanced at the Dori recruits, "¡ªmight actually be useful."


    Krios grinned. "See? Nyssa agrees with me."


    Nyssa scowled. "Don¡¯t get used to it."


    King Eldors looked around, overwhelmed. "So¡­ that¡¯s it? Just like that, the Dori Bandits are now Velmor¡¯s soldiers?"


    Krios clapped his hands together. "Pretty much, yeah."


    The King exhaled sharply, rubbing his forehead. "Medusa help us all."


    A silence settled over the throne room.


    Then, the Dori Leader hesitantly raised a hand. "So, uh¡­ do we get paid for this?"


    Then, Zora hesitantly raised a hand.


    "So, uh¡­ do we get paid for this?"


    "My soldiers need three meals a day and twenty gold coins a week." His gaze flickered toward Raezel and Nyssa, his smirk widening.


    With that, Krios turned on his heel and strode toward the exit.


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    Raezel and Nyssa exchanged glances.


    Neither of them spoke.


    Because whether they liked it or not¡ª


    Krios had already decided.


    And just like that¡ª


    Velmor¡¯s army gained a new division.


    ***


    The faint glow of candlelight flickered over stacks of royal documents and reports, scattered across the massive oak table. The air smelled of old parchment and ink, a silent testament to Velmor¡¯s long history of failures.


    Nyssa sat in the center of the Royal Strategy Hall, flipping through report after report, her expression unreadable.


    The door creaked open.


    "Did you find something valuable?"


    Raezel¡¯s voice was calm as he stepped inside.


    Nyssa didn¡¯t look up. "Till now, Velmor has never disappointed me¡ªwhen it comes to disappointing me."


    Raezel exhaled, amused but unsurprised.


    He walked closer, scanning the mess of documents, half-curious, half-exasperated.


    "Why are you so determined to save Velmor?" His voice was genuinely questioning.


    Nyssa finally looked up, meeting his gaze.


    "Tell me, brother¡ªif you want to help, we can share supplies from Thaimera. Or I can tell my people to send aid." She leaned back in her chair. "Then why go through all this?"


    Raezel didn¡¯t answer immediately.


    For a long moment, he simply stood by the window, staring out at Velmor.


    A kingdom on the edge.


    Weak. Fragile.


    Yet somehow¡ªstill standing.


    Finally, in a rare moment of honesty, he admitted¡ª


    "I don¡¯t know."


    Nyssa blinked. "You¡­ don¡¯t know?"


    Raezel dragged a hand through his hair, frustration flickering across his face.


    "I should take the easy way. I should accept help." He exhaled slowly. "But¡­"


    His voice faded, golden eyes shadowed with something even he couldn¡¯t define.


    Then, quieter¡ª


    Then, quieter¡ª


    "I need to do this."


    Nyssa studied him carefully.


    "Why?"


    Raezel¡¯s fingers curled slightly.


    He hesitated.


    Then, simply¡ª


    "I don¡¯t have an answer. Not yet."


    Silence.


    Then, softer, knowing¡ª


    "And somehow¡­ that only makes you more certain."


    Nyssa¡¯s voice was calm, but the weight behind her words said everything.


    Because she understood.


    She always had.


    For a moment, something unspoken passed between them.


    The corner of Raezel¡¯s mouth twitched¡ªthe ghost of a smirk.


    He didn¡¯t reply.


    He didn¡¯t have to.


    "So you¡¯re really going to Arathis alone? To meet King Leonen?" Raezel asked.


    Nyssa closed the last document, sighing.


    "Did you think it would help if I took anyone from this wonderland?" She gestured dramatically at the disaster that was Velmor.


    Raezel snorted.


    Nyssa smirked.


    Then, at the absurdity of it all¡ª


    They both chuckled.


    ***


    The palace of Arathis was as golden as the god it worshipped¡ªa kingdom sculpted in Apollo¡¯s image.


    Massive pillars reached toward the heavens, their surfaces carved with tales of divine victories. Sunlight spilled through high windows, casting long shadows that watched in silence.


    At the heart of the grand throne room, Nyssa stood.


    She was not dressed as a conqueror.


    She did not need to be.


    Her golden eyes held no aggression, no hostility¡ªonly the quiet promise of a conversation that would reshape history.


    Before her, seated on an elevated throne, King Leonen watched her closely.


    A ruler molded in Apollo¡¯s light¡ªtall, regal, but arrogant.


    To his right, the High Priest of Arathis sat in silence, his presence a reminder that gods were always watching.


    Nyssa stepped forward, offering a subtle bow, a knowing smile curving at her lips.


    "Accept my greetings, King Leonen."


    Leonen¡¯s lips curled slightly.


    "How could I not accept greetings from the Princess of Thaimera¡­ and the Daughter of Medusa?"


    His words were polite, but the edge beneath them was impossible to miss.


    Nyssa chuckled softly.


    "King Leonen, I have a request¡ª"


    But before she could continue, Leonen¡¯s voice cut through the air.


    "Fair trade with Velmor?"


    His gaze sharpened.


    "A nation with no resources. No fertile land. A kingdom currently running on hope and prayers."


    The High Priest remained silent, his gaze unwavering.


    Leonen leaned forward slightly, amused.


    "I don¡¯t even consider Velmor a nation, yet you expect Arathis to trade as equals with it¡ªPrincess Nyssa?"


    Then, his smirk deepened.


    "Or would you prefer your other identity?"


    Silence.


    Heavy. Tense.


    Nyssa held his gaze without flinching.


    She smiled.


    "Let me then¡­ correct the balance."


    She turned without another word, her steps measured, unhurried.


    Then¡ª


    A warmth flooded the room.


    The golden light around them grew brighter, richer, heavier.


    A divine pressure settled over the hall.


    Thick. Undeniable.


    A presence older than kings.


    A voice, calm and absolute, filled the space.


    "Clever words."


    The torches flickered. The air shimmered.


    The High Priest fell to his knees.


    Even King Leonen straightened, his earlier confidence solidifying under the weight of something greater.


    A figure of pure radiance stepped forward.


    Apollo had entered the board.


    He studied Nyssa, his golden eyes holding both amusement and wisdom.


    "Your strategies, your influence in trade and commerce¡­ even the gods are aware of them."


    The weight of his voice was impossible to ignore¡ªthe voice of a being who had seen empires rise and fall.


    Then¡ª


    A slight curve at his lips. Amused. Knowing.


    "But you forget one thing."


    The golden light around him deepened, stretching long, unnatural shadows across the grand hall.


    "Without a supply of goods¡­" Apollo¡¯s voice dipped lower, each word sinking with the weight of absolute certainty.


    "A merchant is nothing, Daughter of Med¡ª"


    Then¡ªhe paused.


    Intentionally.


    His golden eyes gleamed, unreadable, as he held Nyssa¡¯s gaze.


    A deliberate halt. A quiet, controlled play of power.


    And then, as if sealing a preordained fate¡ª


    He spoke.


    "Merchant Empress."


    Nyssa exhaled. Her expression remained unchanged.


    King Leonen smirked.


    "With Apollo¡¯s wisdom, we already know every move you will make, Daughter of Medusa."


    A long pause.


    Then¡ª


    Nyssa turned to leave.


    And this time, she smiled.

 Chapter 33

    The Royal Strategy Hall had never been this quiet.


    No murmurs. No shifting chairs. No arguments.


    Just a thick, suffocating silence.


    Every noble, council member, and strategist had their eyes locked on Nyssa.


    She stood at the head of the war table, arms crossed, her golden eyes cold and calculating. The flickering candlelight threw sharp shadows over her face, making her look almost unearthly.


    The weight of King Leonen¡¯s words still hung in the air, crushing everything beneath it.


    Finally¡ªKing Eldors found his voice.


    "Wha¡ªwhat did King Leonen say?"


    Nyssa exhaled, steady and controlled, before she recounted everything.


    She did not soften the edges.


    She told them how Leonen mocked Velmor. How he didn¡¯t even consider them a nation.


    How Apollo himself had stepped in.


    She did not add unnecessary emotion. She didn¡¯t need to.


    Because the truth alone was heavy enough.


    When she finished, the silence that followed was even heavier than before.


    King Eldors sat motionless, his hands limp on the table. His gaze was lowered, staring at nothing.


    But everyone could see it.


    The defeat.


    The realization that everything was so much worse than they thought.


    For the first time¡ªthere was no illusion of hope.


    Then¡ª


    "Let me talk to King Leonen."


    Krios¡¯ voice broke the silence, sharp and confident.


    Everyone turned.


    He stood with his arms folded, cracking his knuckles. His grin was lazy, but his golden eyes burned.


    Nyssa barely glanced at him.


    "Sometimes, try using your brain, Krios."


    Krios exhaled, rolling his shoulders. ¡°Velmor needs a spine. If we keep bowing to people like Leonen, we¡¯ll never have one.¡±


    A heavy pause.


    Some of the nobles shifted uncomfortably. Others looked away.


    Because they knew he wasn¡¯t wrong.


    Nyssa studied him for a moment, then turned back to the council, her voice calm, but firm.


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    "Arathis isn''t just a nation. And King Leonen isn¡¯t the ruler of Arathis for nothing."


    She pressed a finger against the map on the table.


    "Arathis is the trading and commerce heart of the entire northeastern region. If anything happens to it¡ªthe entire region collapses."


    She let that sink in.


    "If Arathis falls, so does trade. So does the economy. So do countless smaller nations that depend on it. That¡¯s why Leonen can speak with such arrogance¡ªbecause he knows we need him."


    Her voice remained steady. Unshaken. Unbothered.


    King Eldors closed his eyes. His voice was tired, resigned.


    "I understand, Nyssa. And¡­ thank you for trying. But the truth is, we can¡¯t do anything. Velmor is¡ª"


    "We¡¯re finished."


    One noble sighed heavily, slumping in his chair.


    "We shouldn¡¯t push any further," another muttered. "Otherwise, we¡¯ll end up like Zeloria."


    A name. A warning.


    The energy in the room shifted.


    Nyssa¡¯s eyes snapped toward them.


    "Zeloria?"


    The name felt like a puzzle piece falling into place.


    King Eldors nodded slowly.


    "Zeloria was a nation like Velmor. Small, but with natural resources, fertile land, and a clean water supply. They were thriving."


    Nyssa¡¯s grip on the map tightened.


    "So what happened?"


    The king¡¯s face darkened.


    "Zeloria made the mistake of protesting against the trade contracts forced on them by larger nations. Arathis and the others responded by cutting them off."


    The room felt colder.


    Nyssa¡¯s fingers tapped against the wooden table.


    "And Zeloria still has a trade ban?"


    King Eldors nodded grimly.


    "Yes. It¡¯s been ten years."


    A pause.


    Then¡ª


    A slow, wicked grin curled at the edges of Nyssa¡¯s lips.


    "Ten years, huh?"


    Krios blinked. "¡­Why are you smiling like that?"


    Nyssa didn¡¯t answer.


    Instead, her golden eyes gleamed.


    "What¡¯s Zeloria¡¯s distance from Velmor?"


    One of the nobles hesitated.


    "Fifteen kilometers."


    Nyssa¡¯s grin widened.


    Krios exhaled, a smirk creeping onto his lips.


    ¡°So, you already know how we¡¯re going to save Velmor, huh?¡±


    Raezel, leaning against the far wall, finally spoke.


    "Of course she does."


    ***


    The room was bathed in soft golden light.


    Stacks of documents and maps were spread across the table, half-read reports and hastily scribbled notes covering the wooden surface.


    Nyssa sat with one leg crossed over the other, flipping through trade reports, a quill idly tapping against her palm.


    Raezel stood near the window, watching.


    For a long moment, neither of them spoke.


    Then¡ª


    "So."


    Raezel¡¯s voice was quiet, thoughtful.


    "You already planned things out."


    Nyssa smirked, resting her chin against her knuckles.


    Her golden eyes glowed in the dim candlelight.


    "I told them that day that I would save Velmor."


    Her voice was calm. Certain. Unshakable.


    She leaned back in her chair, her smirk deepening.


    "And when I say something¡ªconsider it done."


    Raezel exhaled.


    A small chuckle escaped him.


    Because he knew.


    This was it.


    The moment everything changed.

 Chapter 34

    "Wher¡ªWhere am I?"


    Eyes strained to focus, a sharp ache pulsing at the temples, but the world remained a blur. The ground beneath spun, waves of dizziness crashing over, as the edges of vision flickered, desperately trying to make sense of the chaos around.


    This place¡­ This place is where I lived before.


    A voice called out¡ªstrained, broken. Each word was ragged, torn from the depths of agony.


    "Medusa..."


    A figure came into view. A body, crumpled, blood spilling from the spear that pierced through his chest. Breath came in painful, shallow gasps, barely clinging to life.


    The world fractured. Her body shook, as if crushed under the weight of realization. She couldn¡¯t move. Trapped. Her heart ached, as if it might shatter into a million pieces.


    "I¡¯m sorry. I have to leave you alone. Take care of you¡­ take care of Nyssa and Krios..."


    Her heart stuttered. It felt as though it was beating so fast she might implode. Each breath grew heavier, trapped in her chest, as if the air itself had turned to stone. The weight of the world pressed down, limbs frozen.


    She couldn¡¯t move.


    She couldn¡¯t breathe.


    Each second was an eternity of crushing suffocation.


    "Theron... Theron... THERONNN!"


    A scream ripped through the air. A voice raw, broken, torn from the deepest part of the soul¡ªas if the very world around her might shatter under the weight of it.


    ***


    Again, that dream¡­


    A soft voice¡ªlike a whisper cutting through the fog of her mind.


    "Shrine, you¡­"


    Medusa stirred, sitting up in her bed, rubbing her eyes with the first two fingers of her right hand. Sweat clung to her skin, the terror of the dream lingering like a dark cloud.


    When she began to rise, ready to leave the room¡­


    "Let it go¡­ this pain is eating you internally," Shrine said softly, his voice filled with weight.


    She stilled.


    Shrine¡¯s gaze flickered, his brows pulling together ever so slightly. It was brief¡ªalmost imperceptible¡ªbut the way his fingers tensed at his side betrayed him.


    He had seen this before.


    And it still unsettled him.


    Medusa remained silent for a long moment. The words hung between them, heavy.


    Then, she muttered¡ªlow, firm, unshaken.


    "This pain reminds me of him¡­ I can¡¯t."


    With that, she turned and walked away, leaving the room behind.


    ***


    A lone figure stood in the center of Velmor¡¯s royal hall, draped in a white cloak lined with silver embroidery.


    He didn¡¯t move.


    He didn¡¯t speak.


    Yet¡ªevery single eye was on him.


    Who is he?


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    Why is he here?


    Is he from Arathis? He looks richer than our king.


    The whispers spread like wildfire among the nobles. Even King Eldors shifted uncomfortably on his throne.


    Yet¡ªthe man in white paid them no mind.


    He stood perfectly still, expression unreadable.


    Then¡ª


    "Right on schedule. Just like always."


    Nyssa¡¯s voice cut through the murmurs as she strode into the hall.


    The nobles whipped their heads toward her.


    King Eldors frowned. "You¡­ know this man?"


    Nyssa barely glanced at him. "He¡¯s a messenger."


    She slipped a few letters into the messenger¡¯s waiting hands. Smooth. Effortless.


    King Eldors¡¯ gaze narrowed. "What¡¯s in those letters? And who are they for?"


    Nyssa¡¯s lips curled slightly.


    "Just pest control."


    The king stiffened. "Pest control!?"


    Murmurs grew louder, uneasy.


    Then¡ªone noble suddenly gasped.


    "Wait¡ªMessenger! The symbol embroidered on your cloak¡¯s right side¡­" The noble leaned forward, tension creeping into his voice. "That¡¯s the mark of the Silver Merchants¡­ Are you associated with them?"


    The Messenger finally acknowledged the room.


    He slowly turned his head and gave a single nod.


    Silence slammed into the hall.


    Then¡ª


    "Princess Nyssa¡­" another noble hesitated. "Are you also associated with the Silver Merchants?"


    Nyssa did not blink.


    She did not waver.


    "I am."


    The weight of those two words crushed the room.


    King Eldors¡¯ face was unreadable, his fingers tightening against the armrests of his throne.


    The nobles exchanged stunned glances, the realization sinking in.


    Raezel, standing near the back, exhaled quietly. His golden eyes flickered toward Nyssa, calculating.


    "So this was her plan all along."


    Krios¡ªarms folded¡ªhuffed, a lazy smirk creeping onto his lips.


    "Of course it was."


    The Messenger carefully tucked the letters into his cloak. Then¡ªbefore turning to leave¡ª


    He smirked.


    A knowing, self-assured smirk.


    Then¡ªwithout another word¡ª


    He was gone.


    And the weight of what had just happened lingered.


    ***


    The study was a place carved out of time itself¡ªancient, elegant, and untouched by dust or decay.


    The high walls were lined with towering blackwood bookshelves, filled with obsidian-leather tomes and parchment as old as forgotten gods.


    Faint golden light flickered from enchanted lanterns, their glow casting long, restless shadows.


    Near the center, a massive stone desk stood like an altar of power¡ªits surface carved with serpentine patterns. Every inch of the study bore Medusa¡¯s essence¡ªcold, calculating, yet undeniably regal.


    And yet¡ªdespite its grandeur¡­ It was empty.


    Medusa sat at her desk, her golden eyes distant as she stared through the arched window.


    The night stretched endlessly before her¡ªcold and vast.


    Her fingers tapped softly against the wooden table¡ªtwo slow beats. Over and over.


    Then¡ª


    "If you¡¯re feeling lonely¡­ why not call them?"


    Shrine¡¯s voice was gentle, yet firm.


    Medusa did not turn.


    "For a long time, I had to stay away from them while I built everything," she said, voice even. "How can I call them back now¡­ when they are building something of their own?"


    A pause.


    "Just because I¡¯m feeling lonely?"


    Shrine watched her carefully.


    "You built everything so your children wouldn¡¯t have to struggle. So they wouldn¡¯t have to face what you did. So they wouldn¡¯t have to fight for like you did."


    Her voice softened.


    "Then why do you keep them away now?"


    Medusa lowered her gaze.


    "They wanted to make me proud."


    Shrine frowned. "You¡¯re not proud of them?"


    Medusa¡¯s fingers still.


    "So much." Her voice wavered. "I am so proud of my children."


    Yet¡ªshe said nothing more.


    The room fell into silence.


    The only sound left was the faint scratching of her fingers against the desk, tracing the old carvings as if searching for an answer.


    Outside¡ªthe night stretched cold and endless.


    And within¡ªMedusa sat alone.