Cars streamed down streets, reflected in shop windows. People hurried, looking at their phones without ever glancing up. Streams of sound—voices, advertisements, the whisper of tires—merged into a single noise, and that noise became the city’s heartbeat.
Here, no one knew of the Lords, the Rifts, or the creatures that sought to destroy the home the human race had found by fate’s whim.
Here, everything was normal.
Ordinary. Safe.
But even in this sea of familiar faces and movements, something occasionally quivered—an invisible wave, a faint impulse, like the breath of another world rushing between the walls of houses. The echo of a destroyed Rift had swept through the fabric of reality—quietly and invisibly. Far from human eyes, on the other end of the World, another world had been brought to an end.
Morning did not begin with the now-familiar pain.
Not with the heavy emptiness that had pressed on her chest every waking moment before.
Seline simply opened her eyes—and for the first time in a long while, she did not feel the world crumbling.
The air in the room was cold, but something in it seemed to tremble.
Not anxiety. Not fear.
Something soft, almost invisible—like a faint warmth lingering on the skin after a touch.
She didn’t know why, but a lightness settled in her chest.
As if something long torn from her heart had returned—not completely, but enough to make breathing possible again.
"My Lord… You have returned", Rin thought with relief, "I can feel your presence again."
Seline was already sitting on the edge of the bed. A barely perceptible smile was visible on her face.
"No… could she have felt it too? Impossible", the Dark Warden thought, watching the girl’s calm, peaceful face.
The room filled with soft sunlight.
Somewhere outside the window, the city roared—indifferent and alive.
And in Seline’s heart, for the first time in a long time, there was no familiar emptiness.
For the last few weeks, she had merely existed: studies, exams, attempts to smile when she didn’t feel like it.
She would catch herself staring at the ceiling, not remembering how she got home.
But now something had changed.
She got up, threw on a shirt, walked to the window. Looking into her building’s courtyard, she saw people dispersing from the entrances, each to their own: some to study, some to work, some just out for air, others with pets. And everyone had a purpose. She realized only she was living without knowing what she truly wanted.
It was this very morning that she wanted to live and feel alive.
“Yes,” the girl whispered. “I know what I want. I always have.”
She quickly stepped away from the window and picked up her phone, whose screen, as usual, showed no new notifications, but this time it didn’t bother her.
With quick movements of her slender fingers, she opened a browser and began typing in the search bar:
Swordplay lessons for beginners.
For a moment, she froze. A thought raced through her head: "Am I really going to do this?!"
A second of doubt, and her finger pressed search.
"My Lady… sword…? You can barely hold yourself together…", the Dark Warden thought, raising an eyebrow in bewilderment and incomprehension as he watched the fragile girl’s actions.
The smile on Seline’s face grew clearer. Unforced. Not fake.
She scrolled through pages of different schools for a long time until she stumbled upon one site that seemed cobbled together in a hurry, yet its tagline caught her attention.
"A sword is not a weapon. It is a way."
Seline spent a few seconds studying the phrase, whose meaning seemed unclear, yet something in it clicked.
“Hmmm, a way…”, she whispered to herself.
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Memories of scenes from old films she’d loved since childhood surfaced—knights, samurai, fencers in white shirts, sunlight, the gleam of blades.
Back then, as a child, she didn’t understand why these scenes stirred such excitement in her.
Not because of the strength. Not because of the battles.
There was something else in them—a resolve to stand, to protect, to move forward, even with an enemy before you.
In those stories, the sword was not a weapon of killing, but the last argument of those who refused to surrender. It was held not for glory, but for those who stood behind.
Seline ran her finger over the screen, and the cursor hovered over the "Sign in" button.
For a second, she froze.
A familiar wave of doubts rose inside—the same one that had stopped her from every decision before: "What if I fail? I’ll look foolish…"
She took a deep breath and said quietly to herself:
“I’ll manage. I can do it.”
Click.
The page blinked, and a confirmation for a trial lesson appeared on the screen.
Seline exhaled as if taking her first step after a long paralysis.
She set the phone aside and went back to the window.
The world hadn’t changed—she had.
And on the other end of the planet, where the crowns of ancient pines scratched the sky, a world far removed from modern ideals lived in its habitual rhythm.
Birds greeted the dawn with their songs, spreading soft, warm light over the mountains that stood like titans. Nature awoke unhurriedly, and the air already carried the buzzing of bees, freshly emerged from their hives to gather as much nectar as possible. Streams of sound—buzzing, birds chirping, the rustle of leaves—merged into a single noise, and that noise became the heartbeat of Fargon.
Somewhere within this silence, on a stone ledge, Dan slowly opened his eyes.
The wind brushed his face, bringing the scent of pines and a faint, unfamiliar sensation of warmth.
He lifted his gaze to the sky.
Where light met darkness, a new day was beginning.
“Finally awake!” the Lord of Flame said briskly, seeing Dan rise. “How do you feel?”
Dan slowly rolled his neck, massaging it with one hand after the long sleep. He felt his strength returning, but the searing pain in his right arm reminded him of recent events. Dan shook the dust and grass off his coat and walked toward Alishem.
“I feel my strength returning,” Dan said.
“I feel it too… I feel you’re talking too loudly and not letting me sleep!” Bark roared, lying on the ground by the lake.
Though he lay at a fair distance, the heightened senses of the Lord of Beasts allowed him to discern every rustle, every word.
Dan and Alishem turned toward the lake.
Bark abruptly got to his feet and just as sharply turned toward his brothers. Grumbling something under his breath, he headed toward the others.
“Sleep well?” Bark asked, looking Dan over with a smirk.
“Well enough. You, on the other hand, look battered…” Dan retorted, mimicking his brother.
“Me?! Sew your sleeve back on first…” Bark snapped back.
After the exchange of pleasantries, the three Lords fell silent simultaneously, as if sensing the same thing, which brought them back to reality.
“This World has changed. I feel surges of magical energy everywhere,” Dan said, his gaze shifting somewhere beyond the horizon.
“Me too,” Alishem supported him.
“So much for a peaceful life…” Bark muttered, clearly sensing the changes beginning to occur.
“What do we do?” Alishem looked intently at Dan.
“I think the others feel it too…” said the Lord of Darkness.
“We were just about to set out to find the others, right, brother?!” Bark nudged Alishem with his elbow.
“Huh? Yes,” Alishem said, stepping away from Bark and holding his bruised shoulder with one hand. “We discussed it yesterday, didn’t want to wake you.”
Dan looked at the Lord of Flame and smiled.
“Good.”
“And you?” Bark asked quietly.
“I think you’ll manage without me,” Dan began, his gaze still fixed on the horizon. “Soon, people will awaken to power. I need to be there.”
Alishem and Bark exchanged a glance; relief was readable in their eyes that Dan had decided not to search for the other Lords with them.
“Well then… I guess we part ways again…” Alishem concluded, lowering his gaze.
“We will meet again, my brother,” Dan said warmly, placing a hand on the Lord of Flame’s shoulder.
Those words struck straight to the heart.
Alishem felt something heavy rise in his chest—not fear, but guilt. He understood that their next meeting might be their last.
Bark, catching the mood, decided to steer the conversation back:
“Oh, go on and cry some more! Are you a Lord or what? Getting all sentimental…”, Bark snapped in his characteristic manner, masking his own welling sadness.
They laughed. The laughter was alive, genuine—that rare kind of laughter that exists only between those who are close.
Dan took a few steps away and said quietly:
“Rakar.”
The air trembled. Darkness began to condense at a single point, black streaks of mana swirling, creating a vortex-like formation. An instant, and the Darkness took form. A black silhouette burst forth. Rakar spread his wings. Stretching his long neck, the dragon raised his head to the sky—and, as if after a long sleep, let out a prolonged roar that made the rocks shudder.
A powerful gust of air from the sweep of massive wings raised dust into the air, tore off dry leaves, and pressed the grass flat.
Alishem instinctively shielded his face from the wind but couldn’t look away. His fiery eyes flashed with the reflection of that might and majesty.
Bark stood motionless. But on his face, one could detect a shadow of astonishment and admiration.
He looked up, watching Rakar beat his wings, and his lips twitched in an approving grin.
"Well, Dan… truly incredible power…", Bark thought to himself, gazing at the colossal creature.
Dan took a step toward the ancient predator. Raised his hand, beckoning the dragon to lower its head. Rakar, noticing his master, obediently inclined his head and pressed his snout into the Lord’s cold palm. The roar gave way to a rumbling purr. The fearsome dragon, like a domestic cat, lay on its belly and stretched out its legs, sprawling on the grass.
“Well then, ready?” Dan said with a smile, stroking the reptile’s nose.
Rakar snorted, indicating he was ready.
Dan turned to his brothers.
“Be careful.”
They nodded in response, continuing to watch the majestic creature and its devotion to Dan.
The Lord of Darkness climbed onto Rakar’s back and commanded.
“Home.”
The dragon spread his wings and soared into the air, beating them slowly. The enormous creature gradually turned into a barely distinguishable silhouette in the sky, then into a dot, and they vanished into the clouds.