The Royal Capital Haven was strategically built on a flatland in the heart of Lordrixis, surrounded by a vast wasteland known as the capital outskirts. Unlike the luxurious and towering buildings of the capital, the outskirts were a desolate landscape, shaped by the debris of war, eerie fortresses, and towering hills made of corpses.
At the top of one of these gruesome corpse hills, a tanned man gnawed on a drumstick. The origin of the meat was a mystery no one wanted to solve. His joyful, satisfied smile was marred by the dirty stains on his shirt and the bloodthirst in his eyes.
If you asked a passerby about him, they'd likely dismiss him as a filthy beggar banished from the kingdom—a title the man himself wouldn't deny.
"Dharma Leyndra, the 12th complete ethereal warrior. Didn't know you'd end up like this," a voice called out.
The speaker was a caped woman, her black cloak barely concealing her slender figure. Dharma spat out the bone and turned to face her, his eyes full of disdain.
"Hehahaha! Keeping an eye on one man wasn't enough for you dogs, huh?" he laughed, wild and mocking. The woman flinched slightly but kept her anger in check.
"Sirius Xshasi's grandson is here. I'm just here to deliver the information," she said, her voice flat and emotionless.
Dharma's laughter halted for a brief moment. He understood the significance of this news for him and many others in the kingdom. But soon, his wicked smile returned as he stood, dusting himself off. "Didn't the boss tell us not to interfere? The truth must stay hidden until he finds the 'vessel.'"
But the woman didn't respond. She had already vanished into the shadows.
Dharma shook his head, sighing. "Just when I was starting to enjoy some peace and freedom…"
...
Since the moment he departed from his home, Albert had always been a determined man, willing to do anything to achieve his goals. This time was no different. To protect those important to him, even his sister's life was expendable.
Cloudy should have already moved to the Belkarn Clan Headquarters. In case the plan failed, Glynn Belkarn had promised to ensure her safety. This assassination was Albert's way of securing a safe and protected life for her, free from danger.
Silver was already here. She peeked out of a window, scanning for someone. A complicated smile crossed her face before she turned back and said, "Shun's here."
Albert barely acknowledged her, his focus unwavering. Silver smiled again. "We will succeed, that is for sure." Albert didn't understand where Silver's confidence came from, but her smile carried the same eerie aura as Glynn Belkarn's—peculiar, terrifying, yet strangely reassuring.
"I guess it's my time to go," Silver said, her tone light. "Be careful of ambushes during the execution." With that, she leapt out of the window, heading toward the royal palace.
Before long, there was a knock on the door. Albert didn't need to ask who it was. The door creaked open, revealing Shun scratching his head.
"Has Silver already left?" Shun asked, his tone casual.
Albert examined him. The darkness that always seemed to surround Shun felt even more intense this time. Simultaneously, Shun activated his newly acquired ability on Albert, confirming what he had expected: "Respect and trust, but with a glimmer of doubt."
Satisfied that this ability worked on an ascended ethereal arm possessor, Shun wondered if it would be as effective against someone wielding a complete class ethereal arm.
"All we can do now is wait," Albert sighed. "If Alfreya is still the arrogant brat she's always been, the message will arrive within two hours."
Shun nodded and sat down on Albert's bed. "What should we do to kill time?"
Albert finally looked up. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something."
Shun raised an eyebrow, signalling for him to continue.
"What do you know about Silver Iricson?" Albert asked.
"What do you mean by that?" Shun countered. He knew almost everything about Silver—her likes, dislikes, personality, and how much he meant to her.
"Do you know about her past?"
Shun's expression remained lazy, but he shook his head. Aside from the story involving Silver and Grey, he knew little about her origins or family.
Seeing Shun's response, Albert continued, his voice measured and smooth. "Silver Iricson didn't have a past. No one knows where she came from or what her true intentions are."
"Everything she does is connected to you, either directly or indirectly. It's almost like love, but there's something more to it."
As Albert prepared to speak again, Shun interrupted, voicing the thought lingering in Albert's mind.
"It seems like she exists just for me." Shun's voice was cold, tinged with uncertainty and misery.
Albert nodded slightly. "Shun, it's you who interests me the most, even more than Silver."
Shun forced a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. "That sounded kind of gay, your highness." The joke eased the tension, but only a little.
"Who are you?" Albert pressed, ignoring the jest.
Shun sighed. "I want to know the answer to that question just as much as you. It seems like a lot of people know more about who I am than I do."
"I'm the grandson of the infamous Sirius Xshasi, which apparently matters to a lot of people for reasons I don't understand."
"I'm a proud graduate of SIGMA Academy, your most loyal friend, family, teammate, and supporter."
"I'm an ethereal warrior with a dangerous secret and a determined heart to achieve my goals."
"I'm Shun Xshasi, and there may be more to me that I don't yet comprehend."
"I don't know who I am, but that doesn't stop me from being myself."
The room fell silent as both boys contemplated Shun's words. Shun's identity remained a mystery, just like many other things in the kingdom and the world. Whether these secrets would ever be revealed didn't seem to matter much.
It's not the truth that people believe; it's what they believe that becomes the truth. And sometimes, the truth can be darker than lies, making it people's choice to determine which answer is more correct.
Shun's identity was no exception—whether true or false, neither answer seemed entirely correct, each carrying its own weight of uncertainty and consequence.