Aeliana huffed, releasing Lucavion's collar with a sharp flick of her fingers before stepping to the side.
Lucavion, still far too amused for her liking, took his sweet time sitting up, stretching his arms with a content sigh before finally rolling to his feet.
With practiced ease, he reached into his spatial storage, pulling out a small, ornate tin, a kettle, and a few other utensils.
Aeliana, arms still crossed, watched as he set everything down and began his process.
The fire crackled softly, its golden glow illuminating his movements as he brewed the tea with quiet precision.
Not the same light, delicate brew he had made when she had been sick.
This tea was stronger.
Its aroma filled the cavern immediately, rich and layered, carrying a certain depth that felt… almost foreign.
Aeliana's nose twitched slightly.
She had smelled this before. Somewhere.
She had never tried it.
Her amber eyes narrowed as she studied the dark liquid swirling in the pot. "What tea is this?"
Lucavion, without looking up, replied smoothly, "[Imperial Black Orchid.]"
Aeliana's brows lifted slightly.
A rare tea—one imported from beyond the Empire's borders. It wasn't commonly served among nobles, despite its reputation, because the taste was bold.
Too bold for the delicate palates of aristocrats who preferred softer, floral blends.
Aeliana tilted her head. "You had such preferences?"
Lucavion smirked, finally glancing at her as he poured the tea into two cups. "Well, I one. My master drank it a lot."
Her fingers tightened slightly around her sleeve.
The name resurfaced in her mind.
It still didn't make sense.
A name like that should have existed somewhere. Should have carried weight, should have meant something.
A talent like his—one capable of fighting monsters like the Kraken—didn't just emerge out of nowhere.
Aeliana's lips parted slightly before she finally spoke.
"Who was your master?"
Lucavion's fingers paused briefly over the cup.
It was subtle—a flicker, a ghost of a hesitation.
"Looking at you, he must have been very powerful as well," Aeliana continued.
Lucavion exhaled softly.
"…Indeed," he murmured.
Aeliana caught the way his tone shifted.
Not heavy. Not bitter.
Something clicked in her mind.
She met Lucavion's gaze, reading the quiet confirmation in his eyes.
Aeliana's fingers traced the edge of her sleeve for a moment before she finally spoke.
"Sorry for your loss."
"Thanks?" His smirk curled slightly as he leaned back, watching her. "But you know, most people would—"
"Look sad?" Aeliana cut in.
Lucavion arched a brow.
Aeliana lifted her cup, blowing lightly over the surface of the tea before taking a small sip.
It was strong. Dark. Slightly smoky, but smooth, leaving a lingering warmth in her chest.
She lowered the cup, her amber eyes meeting his.
"If I did that," she stated plainly, "it would just be an act."
Lucavion tilted his head slightly, intrigued.
"I can't feel sorry for someone I don't know," she continued, her voice steady. "Therefore, I'd rather be honest."
Lucavion stared at her.
Not his usual teasing, wicked grin.
"Hah," he exhaled, swirling the tea in his own cup. "You really are an interesting one, aren't you?"
Aeliana hmphed. "I've always been."
Lucavion's chuckle deepened.
Aeliana lifted her cup again, but just as the rim touched her lips—
A faint, almost imperceptible tingling deep within her core.
A place she hadn't felt in years.
The sensation was subtle—like a flicker of warmth spreading through her body, like the echo of something long forgotten.
She had not felt this since…
From the very moment it had surfaced, the first thing she had lost was her cultivation.
Her ability to control mana.
Her connection to herself.
Now, it was stirring.
Lucavion's black eyes flickered to her, but before she could even put her confusion into words—
"I guess the wait time is over."
Aeliana's head snapped toward him.
Lucavion's smirk was still there—subdued, but knowing.
"You should be able to sense it," he said, his tone calm. Too calm.
"The approaching storm."
Aeliana's fingers clenched around her cup.
Not just the flicker in her core—
A presence so vast, so overwhelming, that it pressed against her senses like an oncoming tempest.
There was only one person in the entire Thaddeus Duchy with a presence this strong.
Lucavion exhaled softly, taking a slow sip of his tea.
"Indeed," he murmured.
His black eyes met hers.
The battlefield was silent.
The final monstrous wails had long since faded. The ocean, once a churning storm of death, now lay eerily calm. The sky, once shrouded in unnatural darkness, had begun to clear—light piercing through the dissipating clouds, casting silver ripples across the endless sea.
Duke Thaddeus did not relax.
The resonance had only grown stronger.
Not on the ships. Not on some floating wreckage.
She was beneath them.
Thaddeus stood at the ship's bow, his eyes narrowing as his mana flared. His Storm Sovereign's Dominion whispered to him, the ocean speaking in the language only those of his bloodline could understand.
And it confirmed his instincts.
His daughter was below.
Without hesitation, he moved.
With a single, controlled breath, he stepped onto the ship's railing—and dove.
The sea welcomed him as its ruler.
Where others would have sunk clumsily, where their bodies would have fought against the weight of the water—Thaddeus moved as if he belonged.
He propelled forward, his body cutting through the currents effortlessly, the water parting around him as if guiding his way.
Where the air slowed him, the ocean empowered him.
Where men struggled to breathe, he thrived.
The creatures of the deep bowed.
Colossal sea beasts, their massive forms lurking in the darkness, did not strike.
Serpentine horrors, their glowing eyes piercing through the abyss, did not attack.
They lowered their heads.
They parted from his path.
For the Duke of the Thaddeus Bloodline had entered their domain.
And they would not stand in his way.
The ocean pressure did not matter. The crushing darkness did not matter.
A massive, jagged formation resting at the bottom of the abyss.
It gleamed with an eerie, otherworldly light, its surface carved with symbols he did not recognize.
It did not belong to the ocean.
It did not belong to this world.
Thaddeus' breath slowed, his muscles tensing.
This… was no ordinary place.
And yet, even as his instincts screamed of something unnatural, something beyond mortal comprehension—
His core whispered only one thing.
And without another thought—
The wind howled. The sea raged. But Duke Thaddeus did not hesitate.
His boots struck against the soaked deck as he moved, his presence like a force of nature itself. The knights, the sailors—even the monsters—seemed to sense the shift in the air, parting as he advanced toward the source of the disturbance.
Or at least, that was what it appeared to be. Rising from the ocean like a jagged obsidian monolith, the structure stood defiant against the raging waters, worn by time yet untouched by nature.
But something was wrong.
The very space around it wavered—an unnatural distortion in the air, like a mirage bending the fabric of reality.
Duke Thaddeus' breath hitched.
A rift? No. Not quite.
This was something else.
And instinct screamed at him—cross it.
Without another word, without another thought, he stepped forward.
And the world—shifted.
The sound of crashing waves was gone.
The howling wind ceased.
A deep, unnatural silence consumed everything.
Duke Thaddeus blinked.
The jagged obsidian rock had been nothing but a gateway—an entrance into something else.
The air inside was thick, damp, ancient. Strange bioluminescent crystals clung to the walls, casting eerie glows of violet and deep blue. The cavern's ceiling stretched high above him, lost in a void of shadows, while the ground beneath his boots pulsed with an unsettling warmth.
One—faint. Like a dwindling ember, fragile and barely clinging to existence.
The other—strong. Unfamiliar. Watching.
Duke Thaddeus' instincts screamed at him to be on guard, but he ignored them. His feet were already moving, carrying him deeper into the cavern's depths, guided by the pulse of mana that called to him like a heartbeat.
At the far end of the cavern, surrounded by jagged rock formations and flickering crystals, were two figures.
But his eyes saw only one.
His breath caught in his throat.