As I walk down the aisle, I send a powerful gust of wind toward the Ancestral Bell, positioned beside the entrance of the Ancestral Providence. This bell, once rung, signifies that all members of the family must pay their respects to the ancestors. But this time, I ring it for a different purpose: to announce that I, Azrael Leondell, the Founding Father of the Ancestral Palace and the Eternal Warden of Velandor, have returned.
In mere minutes, every member of the family—from the main house to the farthest branches—gathered before me. The family's mages remain as powerful as ever, their presence a testament to the strength of our bloodline. Many faces are unfamiliar, yet I can see the unmistakable traits of the Leondell family in each one. It is clear that the bond between the Leondells and the Caladrians has held strong through the generations.
House Caladrian is one of the oldest and most prestigious families in Velandor, known for their deep-rooted tradition of aligning themselves with the Leondell family. The Caladrians are renowned for their grace, wisdom, and strong magical bloodline, particularly excelling in healing and supportive magic.
The Caladrians have been bound by an ancient oath to serve as the partners of Leondell males. Their duty is not just to provide wives, but to ensure the Leondell bloodline remains strong and balanced through the union of powerful magical lineages.
I could see the confusion in their eyes, yet they remained kneeling and bowed before me.
"I greet and congratulate you on your return, Founding Father of the Ancestral Palace and Eternal Warden of Velandor, the founding ancestor of the Leondell family!" an old mage suddenly exclaimed.
Not bad, at least someone recognizes me. "Who are you?" I asked, my gaze shifting to him.
"I am the butler of the family, Ranier Leondell," the old mage responded, his voice steady despite his age.
My attention then turned to the three who knelt in front of me, their auras far stronger than the rest. "You three... your presence is the strongest among everyone here. Speak."
"I am Gideon Leondell, the current family head and the Guardian of Velandor," said the first.
"I am Elleanor Leondell, the Silver Tongue of Velandor," the second spoke with quiet authority.
"And I am Castor Leondell, the Iron Commander of Velandor," the third announced, his voice firm.
"We are the three siblings who remain as the main branch of the Leondell family," Gideon added.
"Gideon, you say," I murmured, considering his demeanor. "From now on, you shall serve as the High Chancellor of the family. I will resume the position of Head starting today. Summon the Ancestral Council at once."
With that, I dismissed everyone.
The sun hung high in the sky—it appeared I had awakened in the middle of the day. As I took in my surroundings, I marveled at how the Ancestral Palace remained as magnificent as ever. Its architectural grandeur rivaled even that of the Imperial palaces of distant empires.
The Hall of the Eternal Warden
The meeting ended earlier than expected, and just as I was about to leave, a calm and composed figure stood before me.
"My Lord, may I have a moment of your time?"
I recognized the aura and presence immediately. "You're the current head of the Arcanum Assembly," I remarked.
"Yes, my Lord. I am Malachai Thorne," he responded, his tone respectful but steady.
"Not bad for an archmage to lead the Assembly. Not many reach such a rank," I said, recalling that he was well into his 80s, though he carried himself with the grace of someone far younger.
"Thank you, my Lord," Malachai said with a nod.
"Let's walk," I suggested, gesturing to the palace's back garden.
As we began walking along the stone path, the evening air filled with the scent of night-blooming flowers, I asked, "What is it you wish to discuss?"
Malachai's expression turned slightly more serious as he spoke. "The Arcanum Assembly recently discovered ancient runes deep within the forests of Valtoria. The runes were found in an old dungeon, and they appear to be of high-class origin. Upon examination, the Veilkeepers identified them as matching the ancient runes found in the Akashic Record."
I paused, considering his words. "Ancient runes? Those were forbidden magical mechanisms, used thrice in my time. Each instance led to the awakening of high-class dark mages or demons. Such runes always emit a dark aura. If they've reappeared, it could mean only one thing—it involves demons or powerful dark mages," I said grimly.
"Indeed, my Lord. Many have attempted to delve deeper into the dungeon, including the 12 Lords, who have declared it a neutral domain, allowing any of the 12 nations to send expeditions. However, despite countless efforts over the last 12 years, none have succeeded in fully exploring the dungeon. The furthest anyone has reached is the 7th floor. According to the monster rankings within, the dungeon may extend 100 floors or more, with the creatures encountered so far only reaching E-class in threat level," Malachai added.
"Continue," I urged, sensing the tension in his voice.
Malachai's face tightened as he continued. "During the latest expedition—a joint force from all 12 nations aimed at conquering the 8th floor—a wave of mythical energy was recorded. The Investigation Order, which accompanied the joint force, reported the sudden appearance of an S-class aura."
"S-class? That could be a demon prince or even a king-class monster," I said, my tone sharp with concern. "Why didn't you mention this during the earlier council meeting?"
"The news of the dungeon is widely known, but the S-class aura... the Assembly has no concrete evidence. It lasted only for a fleeting moment. Without proof, we feared disbelief. No one in Velandor has seen an S-class monster or demon in decades," Malachai replied, his voice quiet but urgent.
"And what happened after that?"
"The aura seemed to pass over the joint force, almost as if it was flowing past them. The Assembly suspects that a high-ranking S-class entity either a monster or demon might have exited the dungeon when the joint force attempted to decipher the rune array on the 8th floor," he explained.
As we walked further into the garden, an eerie glow began to emanate from Malachai's hand. I glanced at it and noticed the intricate magic circle tattooed on his palm, glowing with an urgent light.
"It seems there is an emergency at the Arcanum's Tower, my Lord. I must take my leave!" Malachai said, bowing quickly before disappearing in a flash of arcane energy.
I stood there for a moment, staring into the distance, contemplating the news.
"So, the Founding Ancestor has returned to the Ancestral Palace. It seems the days of freedom in Velandor are coming to an end," Lord Eamon Caladrian remarked, his voice calm but edged with concern. "As lenient and passive as Gideon was, the former heads of the Leondell family were as strict as a mother with her child."
Suddenly, a scream echoed from the depths of the Misc Library. "The Akashic Record is vibrating!"
The Caladrian family had long been the stewards of Velandor's history, tasked with recording every event, decree, and discovery. As keepers of the Misc Library, they safeguarded the Akashic Record—a mystical book that governed all things in Velandor. It recorded every significant occurrence within the Southern lands, instantly chronicling decrees from the Ancestral Palace and the emergence of notable figures. Any discovery made in the southern territories appeared instantly within its pages.
"The Ancestor has issued an order to the Twelve Nations!" one of the stewards, who was assigned to the Akashic Record, shouted. "Under the authority of the Joint Circular, the creation of the Abyssal Order has been decreed. All twelve nations must send an individual to represent them. The Abyssal Order will consist of twelve members, with Lady Aurelia Leondell, current Guardian of Ancient Magical Relics, as its Captain."
"Contact the Twelve Lords and carry out the order!" Lord Eamon commanded, sending a messenger rushing toward the Communication Orb.
"The Abyssal Order has been established to roam Velandor in search of... something," the steward continued. "This mission will last for ten years. If nothing is found by the end of that period, the Abyssal Order will be disbanded."
These were the final words inscribed by the Akashic Record, the book's glow fading as the decree was sealed.