In the Batali Kingdom’s grand castle, little Ashora, only one year old, sat peacefully on his mother’s lap. He played with her fingers, unaware of the burdens that surrounded him.

  On the other side of the hall, Amitrochates stood quietly, watching Leona as she meditated. She still could not fully control her lightning. A faint sadness rested on his face. For two months, his daughter had been isolated from the world—away from him, away from her mother, and even away from her baby brother.

  A three-year-old becoming an Awakener was unheard of. Awakening meant understanding and controlling one’s emotions. But how could a child so young, whose emotions were still wild and uncontrollable, cannot u=control her emotions.

  Leona was suffering because of it. The only way she could control her power was by controlling her emotions. She had awakened, but she was not yet a complete Stage 1 Awakener.

  Leona slowly opened her eyes.

  A bolt of lightning burst from her small body.

  In an instant, Amitrochates stopped it, preventing any damage. Leona lowered her head. Despite all her efforts, she still couldn’t control it.

  Her eyes drifted toward her brother. She had only seen him from a distance since his naming ceremony. That thought made her even sadder.

  Another bolt of lightning burst from her body.

  Amitrochates put the magical bracelet on Leona's wrist. The bracelet limit her powers from becoming uncontrollable

  “Go back to your room,” he said

  Leona let out a quiet sigh. Before leaving, she turned once more to look at her mother and little brother.

  Then she walked away, carrying both her power—and her loneliness—with her.

  Androcottus slowly unsheathed his sword and fixed his eyes on the wyvern.

  The moment the wyvern sensed danger, it spread its massive wings and tried to flee into the sky. But Androcottus, who was watching from afar, looked up and raised his hand. With a simple gesture, he removed the air from the space where the wyvern was trying to escape.

  Without air pressure beneath its wings, the wyvern could not fly.

  Its wings flapped wildly, but there was nothing to push against. In the next second, its massive body lost balance and slammed heavily onto the ground, shaking the forest.

  The wyvern stood up angrily and let out a fierce scream. But this time, no sound came out. With no air to carry its voice, its roar was trapped inside its throat. It opened its mouth wide, yet only silence followed.

  Its glowing eyes locked onto Androcottus, who stood calmly in front of it.

  In the blink of an eye, Androcottus disappeared.

  Before the wyvern could react, a sharp pain shot through its body. Androcottus was already behind it. With one clean strike, he had severed one of its wings. Blood splattered across the ground.

  The wyvern staggered, its balance broken.

  Androcottus stood still, his sword dripping with blood. His expression was calm as ever.

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  “Why are you attacking a kingdom using low-level monsters?” he asked.

  Wyverns were not mindless beasts. They were intelligent beings, capable of speaking the human language.

  But instead of answering, the wounded wyvern let out a furious growl. Rage filled its eyes. Suddenly, it lunged forward, opening its massive jaws wide, trying to swallow Androcottus whole.

  Androcottus vanished from the wyvern’s sight once again.

  The wounded beast looked around wildly, its glowing eyes searching for him. For a brief moment, confusion filled its face. Then it saw him—standing calmly at the very spot where he had first struck.

  The wyvern’s behavior was strange. It was no longer acting like a thinking creature. It moved like a mad dog, unable to control itself.

  Without warning, it opened its mouth and unleashed a stream of fire toward Androcottus.

  The flames roared through the forest.

  Androcottus did not move from his place. He simply lifted his hand. Wrapping wind around one finger, he sliced forward. The fire split in half, cut cleanly as if it were cloth. The flames scattered harmlessly to either side.

  At that moment, Androcottus understood.

  The wyvern had gone mad. There was no reason left in its eyes. There was no point in talking or trying to understand its motive.

  “Nicolas, fall back,” Androcottus said calmly.

  He looked toward the sky and raised one hand. The air above began to move. Hundreds of swords formed from pure wind, sharp and shining. They were just hanging out in the sky, all aimed at the wyvern.

  With a simple motion of his hand, the wind swords fell.

  The wyvern tried to flee again, flapping its remaining wing. But suddenly, two giant hands made of compressed earth rose from beneath the ground and dragged it down.

  The beast tried to breathe fire once more—but before it could act, the rain of wind swords struck.

  They pierced through its scales, cutting deep into flesh and bone. Blood sprayed across the ground. The wyvern screamed in pain—but no sound came out. The lack of air pressure had made it completely mute.

  Nicolas stood frozen in terror, watching the scene unfold. At that moment, he finally understood. He was not someone Androcottus needed to take seriously as an enemy.

  Then, suddenly—

  The wind swords shattered.

  A dark portal opened behind the wyvern. It was pitch black, swallowing light around it.

  Androcottus’s eyes narrowed. An Abyss portal? What is that doing here?

  From the portal, two shadowy hands reached out, trying to drag the wounded wyvern inside.

  But Androcottus reacted instantly.

  He tightened his grip on his sword. A blue light began to glow around the blade, growing brighter with each second.

  With one powerful sweep, he cut forward.

  The wyvern’s head flew into the air.

  The two shadowy hands were severed as well. The portal trembled—and then closed, as if it had never existed.

  Silence fell over the battlefield.

  Androcottus slowly turned toward Nicolas.

  “Whatever you saw here,” he said coldly, “not a single word must leave this place.”

  His eyes glared at the duke. At the same time, his Sei was released. An invisible pressure filled the air. Nicolas felt as if a mountain had been placed on his shoulders. He struggled to breathe.

  “I… I understand,” Nicolas said in a low, trembling voice. “Nothing will leak out. I will summon soldiers to clean the area.”

  Androcottus watched as Nicolas and the two knights hurried away.

  Once alone, Androcottus raised his hand and began to write in the air itself. Words formed from wind, glowing faintly. He recorded everything that had happened in the battle. When he finished, he released the wind message and sent it flying toward Grandmaster Aratha.

  Moments later, as Androcottus left the battlefield, a figure stepped out from the shadows.

  The man’s entire body was covered in dark clothing. Only his eyes were visible.

  He looked at the destroyed forest and the wyvern’s corpse.

  “You are still the same, Androcottus,” he said quietly.

  Then, like smoke carried by the wind, he disappeared into thin air.