Meanwhile, thousand of miles away.
Lucian moved silently through the mist-laden lands of the Demon Realm, a place teeming with ancient power, twisted landscapes, and the faint, ever-present hum of danger.
Dark mountains rose around him, looming like silent sentries, their peaks lost in swirling storms. The air crackled with energy, powerful and volatile, and yet Lucian was only paid little attention to it.
His mind kept drifting back to the Human Realm—back to her.
After all these years, Lucian had never allowed himself to care about anyone other than himself. Yet now, whenever he found a quiet moment to rest, his thoughts would inevitably circle back to Elara.
The faint twinge of discomfort gnawed at him—an unfamiliar sensation of concern that lingered in the silence left by their temporarily severed connection.
The link had become faint, intentionally so, as he didn't want Elara to worry or sense the dangers he was walking into. But he couldn't deny it—it felt unsettling.
He hadn't realized how accustomed he'd become to her presence until he had deliberately pulled away.
"King Lucian," came a voice, low and controlled. One of his closest allies, Raze, stood at his side, his crimson eyes scanning their surroundings. "We're close to the borderlands. The traitors won't know what hit them."
Lucian nodded, his gaze hardening as he let go of his wandering thoughts. "Good. They've hidden in shadows long enough." He flexed his fingers, feeling the surge of power ripple through his veins.
The time he'd spent training Elara had helped him unlock portions of his abilities that the Divine Seals had long suppressed.
With each passing day, he felt himself growing stronger, a steady climb back toward the power he once commanded effortlessly.
Yet even now, even with half his previous power restored, it wasn't enough.
Lucian clenched his jaw, barely containing the frustration simmering within. This realm—his realm—had once been his dominion, every inch of its twisted forests and jagged mountains bending to his will.
He had ruled unchallenged, feared and respected in equal measure. But now, the fact that he had to proceed with caution, unable to outright challenge those who had stolen his throne, gnawed at his pride.
That familiar arrogance, once his greatest weapon, felt diminished, crushed under the weight of the Divine Seals that still restricted him.
"Is something wrong, my lord?" Raze asked, eyeing him with cautious concern.
"No." Lucian's voice was cold, dismissive, but inside, a torrent of thoughts swirled. 'The power I have now could wipe half of a city from existence. And yet it's not enough to destroy those who betrayed me.'
His fists clenched involuntarily. "Our enemies may have enjoyed their illusion of safety for too long," he added quietly, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes. "But they'll find that their time is running out."
Raze bowed slightly, sensing his lord's rising anger. "We'll have what's yours returned to you soon, sire. You have our loyalty."
Lucian nodded, though his expression remained cold. These were the subordinates who had followed him loyally even after his fall. They were the few who had dared to journey to the Human Realm, hiding and surviving with him.
And now, he had brought them back with one purpose in mind: to uproot the traitors and reclaim his throne. But they need to be cautious; he couldn't afford open confrontation—not until his power had fully returned.
Their return to the Demon Realm was deliberate, a shadowed movement known only to the most trusted of his allies. The throne was still held by his usurper, an ambitious fiend who had seized the opportunity to claim power while Lucian was weakened and sealed.
It was a bitter reminder of how quickly power shifted here, a place where loyalty was as rare as compassion.
Lucian's gaze sharpened as he scanned the dark expanse ahead, knowing his enemies lurked somewhere beyond the shadows. 'I'll root out every last one of you', he promised silently, 'and by the time I'm through, there won't be a trace left of your treachery'.
Yet, despite the fire of vengeance coursing through him, a different thought intruded on his mind, one that broke his ruthless focus.
It was an image of Elara, her determined face, the way her brow furrowed when she was deep in thought, her stubborn resilience that rivaled his own. It was strange, this feeling of longing—a distraction he'd never allowed himself to indulge in before.
He had left her in the Human Realm without a word, cutting off their connection so she wouldn't sense his perilous journey. But even as he turned away from her, he had felt an inexplicable unease gnawing at him.
Why do I even care? he asked himself, frustration flickering in his dark eyes. Elara was just a human, albeit one who had shown potential that intrigued him. She had been nothing more than a tool, an unwitting partner in his quest for revenge against the Divine Order. And yet…
The thought of her left alone, unable to summon him, unsettled him in a way he hadn't anticipated.
She was strong, more than he'd expected when he first met her, but he knew she was still surrounded by forces that would destroy her without a second thought if she slipped up.
"This is ridiculous," he muttered under his breath. He pushed the thoughts away, telling himself that her survival was her own responsibility, just as his survival had always been his.
Still, his chest tightened slightly at the thought of her struggling alone. He had guided her, shaped her into a weapon against the Divine Order, but he hadn't foreseen the strange bond that had formed between them.
He'd always thought he's been in control of their connection, able to sever it or enforce it as he pleased. Yet now, with the link faint and tenuous, he found himself disoriented by its absence.
"I'll return soon enough," he whispered, more to himself than to anyone else. "She'll be fine." He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince himself or if it was merely a reminder of his priorities.
Raze glanced at him, his expression unreadable. "My lord, the scouting party is ready."
Lucian nodded, pushing aside the lingering thoughts of Elara. His focus returned to the task at hand. "Lead the way," he commanded, his voice echoing through the still air.
As they moved deeper into the Demon Realm, Lucian's mind sharpened, his purpose clear and unyielding. He was here to reclaim what was rightfully his, to eliminate every last traitor who had dared betray him in his moment of vulnerability.
The road ahead would be brutal, but he welcomed it. Each step toward vengeance was a reminder of his purpose, a salve to the anger that simmered within him.
But as the hours passed, even with his allies at his side, he couldn't quite shake the feeling of emptiness left by the faint severance of his link to Elara.
He hadn't expected it to feel this way, like a constant itch at the back of his mind, a quiet reminder that part of him was missing.
He shook his head, irritated by the distraction. 'Focus, Lucian'. He chastised himself, unwilling to let sentiment weaken his resolve.
But he couldn't fully deny the part of him that yearned for the faint warmth that came from their connection. His grip tightened on his staff as he pushed forward, a dangerous gleam in his eyes.
The shadows deepened around them, but Lucian's presence radiated power, a force that his enemies would feel long before they ever saw him.
He could feel the ancient magic of the Demon Realm responding to him, bending to his will, a faint taste of the dominance he once held in his prime.
Yet, even as he pressed onward, his thoughts circled back to Elara. It unsettled him how easily she'd slipped into his mind, the memory of her steady gaze and quiet determination.
He didn't understand it, and a part of him resented the distraction, resented her for complicating his focus. She was a fragment of a plan he had left behind in the Human Realm—a mere pawn, useful and nothing more.
And yet, the thought of her struggling alone against the Divine Order's influence left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Soon," he whispered into the night, barely aware of the admission. "Soon, I'll come back."
He knew his return was inevitable. Revenge against his traitors, reclaiming his throne—those were his immediate goals.
But somehow, the image of Elara was etched into his mind, a reminder of something unfinished.
The temporary severance of their bond had given him a glimpse of what life would be without her presence, and it was unsettling.
The need for vengeance burned bright within him, a fire that wouldn't be extinguished until he had crushed every last one of his enemies.
But even amid that fury, he felt a tug, a faint pull drawing him back to the Human Realm, to the one person who had, against all odds, forced him to confront a part of himself he'd thought long dead.
With a final glance over his shoulder, he allowed himself a fleeting thought. 'Stay safe, Elara. I'll return soon enough'.