The sound of armored boots echoed through the crystalline halls of the Windcrest estate. The air was cold and unnervingly silent as Zane followed the guards, their expressions unreadable behind enchanted helms.
At the end of the corridor stood an imposing gate, carved from obsidian-black stone and etched with silver in the shape of a spiraling cyclone—the sigil of House Windcrest. The symbol of noble power and legacy.
One of the guards turned to Zane and spoke curtly.
"Enter. The Duke is waiting."
Zane furrowed his brow. He had eaten at the same table as Sera's father before... but the man had never directly spoken to him. This sudden summons didn't sit well.
> "If it were me," Link muttered coldly in his mind, "his head would be rolling before the first word."
Suppressing a sigh, Zane placed both hands on the heavy doors and pushed them open.
The hall within was massive, shaped like a storm-forged throne room. White marble floors veined with living wind magic shimmered beneath his feet. Massive banners bearing the Windcrest sigil swayed in an unseen breeze. At the far end of the chamber, on an elevated platform, sat Duke Caelum Windcrest, Sera's father, dressed in a regal blue robe with streaks of silver and violet, armor gleaming beneath the silk.
He just tapped his boot against the floor in a slow rhythm.
Zane took one step forward.
A dagger zipped through the air like a whisper and slammed into the floor just in front of him.
Zane flinched but didn't fall back. His eyes narrowed.
The Duke rose from his seat. His voice, when it came, was firm and icy.
"I want to know if you're truly in control... or if you're a danger to my daughter, my house, and my realm."
Without warning, Caelum raised a hand, and a longsword formed in a flash of silver-blue light. A wave of pressure flooded the room.
Zane's breath hitched.
Duke Caelum Windcrest was no ordinary noble.
> Power Rank: High Archon. A breath away from Transcendence.
Zane had only recently reached Mid Archon through the system's brutal trials. He was strong now—but not on this level. Not yet.
And then, in the blink of an eye—
Zane's instincts screamed. The next instant, a cold blade hovered against his throat.
His presence surged, and Zane's eyes flashed crimson. He remained still, yet something ancient began to rise within him like a tidal wave.
From within, Zane could only watch.
Link, possessing Zane's body with unnerving calm, turned his head slightly.
Then he tapped the Duke's sword with his finger.
The sword shattered—into dust, not shards. Its fragments were consumed by swirling Void energy.
The room darkened slightly as Link turned his gaze fully on the Duke. His voice dropped into a venom-laced growl.
"You're lucky I vessel."
"Because if not for this child, you and everyone under this roof would already be dust."
He took a step forward, and the shadows recoiled around him as if afraid.
"You dare raise your blade to me? Do you not understand what sleeps beneath your feet?"
The Duke, for all his power and pride, stepped back. Not because he was weak—but because something stronger had awakened.
His lips parted slightly in realization.
He had not tested a boy.
He had provoked a storm.
And the storm had spoken.
Just as quickly, the red light faded from Zane's eyes. His body sagged, control returning to him like a slow breath. He blinked, hand on his chest, disoriented.
The broken blade sparkled like dying embers at his feet.
The Duke did not speak.
For the first time, silence was not due to authority—but uncertainty.
He now knew what slept inside Zane Windcrest's guest.
And he understood that if that being ever truly woke...
There would be no kingdom left to rule.