The Herish King was frustrated while sitting on his throne. He looked at the ceiling and closed his eyes, then massaged his head's temple with his right hand.
'First, the town's massacre, followed by a small village that disappeared without a trace, then, Tigrid's death, and now, it's the Enchantress of Time,' he thought.
He was dismayed by the happenings, not knowing that most of them were connected to Celestine Madisson. He was worried for the festival, but there was still hope inside him that the kingdom's event could be done without any strange occurrences.
Then he was in the middle of his thoughts when his butler came and spoke.
"Your Highness, the domain has already vanished; I'm still waiting for the report, but the expected number of casualties is about a hundred, and those who are buried underneath the debris are not yet included," the butler reported.
"How about the culprit? Did they find her?" The king asked; his eyes were still closed.
"They didn't; after the domain disappeared, black smoke rose from the ground and made the people fall asleep, and as the knights entered the premises, Celestine Madisson was already out of the area," the butler answered.
"Send a letter to the empire in the fastest way possible; tell them that the Enchantress of Time made her appearance here," he ordered after opening his eyes and staring directly at his confidant.
"Yes, your Highness! Should I ask for assistance from the emperor?" The butler replied.
The king thought for a second, but then shook his head.
"There's no need; he won't send his most beloved son without powerful guards; we can use them if things go wrong, and besides, the next in line for the emperor's throne is a beast himself," the king stated.
Then the butler bowed his head and turned around to leave, but after taking several steps, he heard the king's voice, which made him stop, and then he looked behind.
"Wait a second, Gil. I find out that the young patriarch of the Kingsword has returned. Please invite him into the castle; I want to have a talk with him," the king said.
"I will, your Highness," Gil answered before he bowed once again, but this time he waited until the king nodded at him before he left.
Then another person entered the hall; she was wearing a white dress and a blue skirt. Her clothes were simple, but they couldn't hide her beautiful appearance. Her hair was hanging at her back, and a blue ribbon was tied at the bottom of it.
"Good day, Father! Please come with me, I want to show you something," the woman said, her smile blending perfectly with her grayish-blue eyes.
She was the king's only daughter, Lexel Herish. She had the abilities to rival her brother in crafting weapons, but she stayed away from the norm. Her ideas were great; however, they were beyond impossible to make.
The king shook his head as he saw his daughter dressed like that. The representatives from other kingdoms would be here at any moment, and he didn't want her child to be the main character in the event's infamy.
"My daughter, my little princess, how many times should I tell you to dress and act like one?" He asked, then stood up from his throne.
Lexel smiled upon seeing her father walk towards her. She ignored his question and just gave him a warm smile.
"You'll be surprised once you see the thing that I made," she said.
'I am pretty sure that it is a failed product like before,' the king thought, laughing inside him. He loved his daughter so much that he didn't want to destroy her pride by sharing his thoughts.
The two of them walked out of the hall and went down the stairs, heading underground. After a while, they arrived in a large room with a huge fire at the center of it. Then different kinds of metal were hanging from the ceiling in one of its corners, while rocks of different colors were lying on the floor. This place was the family's workshop.
Lexel pulled her father inside and showed him a white staff. Its length was two meters, and its circumference was perfect for its size.
"What is this?" The king asked, disappointed by its appearance.
It was too simple for a staff; there were no intricate carvings or any design on its shaft; it was like an ordinary, large stick that was painted white. However, Lexel laughed upon seeing her father's expression.
"Don't get fooled by its simple design, Father," she chuckled. "Here, please watch."
She raised the staff and closed her eyes, then she channeled her energy into the weapon, and a white blade appeared at its tip, turning it into a spear. Lexel got the attention of the king, but not enough to astonish him.
Then, the next second, the blade retracted, and she pulled the staff from its opposite end. Then it broke in the middle, but a white chain was there to connect its two broken parts.
"A nunchuck!" The king exclaimed.
After that, the chain pulled the separated parts together, and it stuck once again. Then Lexel slid her finger into the staff, and its shaft became a sharp white blade like a longsword.
At last, the king dropped his jaw when the weapon returned to a white staff, and then Lexel opened her eyes and looked at the staff on her palm before she gazed at the king.
"I did it, Father! Like what Butler Gil told me. A weapon that can change its form," she said, her lips still smiling.
"Though I tried to compress its size, it was too difficult," she added, and the smile on her face vanished.
"It's okay; this thing is really great. I'm very proud of you." The king couldn't hide his joy.
He hugged her daughter and gave her a kiss on the forehead, then Lexel looked up and smiled once again.
"Thank you, but I still have something to show you," she uttered in a soft voice.
Then she pulled away from her father's embrace and distanced herself.
"I awakened it, Father, my Legacy," she said, then picked up a piece of metal with her free hand.
It shone before melting into her hand, and after a few seconds, it turned into a short sword's blade, leaving the king speechless.
'Should I postpone the declaration for the next in line for the throne?' He thought.
. . . . .
As soon as the domain disappeared and the black smoke dissipated, the knights on standby made their move. Priests and healers were highly sought-after. Even the mercenaries helped rescue those who were still breathing inside the debris.
But all of them couldn't help but grit their teeth upon seeing the state of the people who were caught in the battle that took place earlier.
Zeno didn't pick up his coat tainted with Celestine's blood, and he walked out of the scene as if nothing had happened.
Some of the knights saw him walking away, but they chose to ignore him; saving lives came first, and they were already aware who was the owner of the domain, so they just let him go without any questions.
The silver-haired demon strolled the city, searching for another shop to buy a coat. Then he touched his right hand with his left. It was dry, and he could feel his bones just by touching his skin.
'She's the first to give me an injury like this and to think that she's just a human,' he thought, and then a smile blossomed on his face.
After several seconds of walking, he stopped as he saw a small shop at the side of the street with several dresses displayed in its window. Its design and color were different from other buildings, giving it an eerie atmosphere. Near its entrance, there were two gargoyle statues.
"If you seek the truth, you're in the right place," Zeno read from the plaque card hanging at the door.
'Interesting,' he thought before he ambled inside the shop.
The sun was still out, but the place was shrouded in darkness. Dust and spiderwebs could be spotted anywhere in the store, yet he still walked to the clothes on the display, waiting for the owner to approach him.
However, almost a minute had passed, and the presence he felt upon entering was still standing on the same spot.
Then, he smiled as he saw a maroon-colored coat hanging in one of the displays. He grabbed it and checked it. His smile became brighter upon seeing that the clothing fitted him well; it looked like it was tailored just for him.
"How much for this?" He asked.
Then the presence finally moved, and after a few seconds, an old man stood behind him and spoke.
"It's free for demons," he said, then bowed. "Especially for the high-ranking ones."
Zeno smirked and then turned around to face the old man.
"For a warlock to show this kind of generosity. What's the catch?" He asked this while still smirking.
"I'm just glad to see that there are still powerful demons left after the Demon King has fallen," the warlock answered, a glint of sadness present in his eyes.
"He's not that great for you to harbor such emotion," Zeno replied.
Then laughter came from the old man's mouth before he turned his back to Zeno and walked towards an old cabinet. He pulled a small black box inside and returned to Zeno.
"Take it; this is a memento from the Conjurer of Blue Flames," the warlock said, extending his hand to give the item to the silver-haired demon.
"If it's a keepsake from him, why are you giving it to me?" He asked, contemplating if he should take the box or not.
"I'm already this old; this thing needs to be used rather than rot inside this place with me. And I am sure that you need it," the old man explained before he stared at Zeno's right hand.
. . . . .
Registration for the tournament was still ongoing despite the commotion that happened inside the kingdom's capital. Though a lot of the mercenaries offered their help and left the place, the line was still crowded, and it was only several hours before it came to an end.
'I need a break; their number is not decreasing,' one of the registrants thought, but he still continued.
"Next!" He shouted.
Then the registrant felt that his world stopped upon seeing a woman coming towards him. Even the other participants were drooling at her appearance.
"I came to register," the woman said after taking off her red fall hat with a white ribbon encircling it.
She was dressed in a red trench coat that highlighted her white skin and hair.
"Uhmnn, p-please f-fill up this form," the registrant stuttered, mesmerized by the beauty in front of him.
"And please t-tell me your name," he added.
"I go with the name Cinn. Cinn de Stygeia," she said, smiling.
. . . . .