After the operation concluded, Cero oversaw the transfer of slaves and prisoners to the transport vessel. The marines worked with precision, tightly escorting the captives, including Captain Hitos and his crew. The slaves, who had previously cowered under Hitos' control, now appeared confused but slightly calmer, though still cautious around the unfamiliar modern soldiers.
Among them, Isvel remained the center of attention. The magical chains binding her were not removed, and she was taken separately to a specialized detention chamber aboard the flagship. Her every movement was closely monitored by armed marines. Despite her restraints, her cold and haughty demeanor remained unshaken.
"Ensure she doesn't have a chance to resist," Ragner instructed the marines assigned to guard her. "Those chains must stay intact, and any suspicious behavior should be reported immediately."
"Understood, sir," one of the marines responded crisply.
As the fleet returned to the base on the island now serving as Cero's operations center, the process of transferring the prisoners to the mainland facilities began. The slaves, frail and malnourished, received food and basic care from the medical team. Meanwhile, the captives—especially Hitos and his crew—were placed in interrogation rooms designed to extract crucial information.
Isvel, however, was moved to a reinforced detention cell equipped with additional magical barriers. Her magical chains remained fastened, draining most of her energy and rendering her unable to use her full power. Yet her piercing gaze served as a constant reminder of her potential danger.
That afternoon, Lieutenant Draz walked through the interrogation block, reviewing reports from his subordinates on the initial questioning. As one of Cero's most trusted officers, Draz understood the importance of this mission—not just to secure the island but to uncover the secrets of this new world for Cero's broader objectives.
"What's the progress?" Draz asked a young soldier tasked with documenting the interrogations.
The soldier straightened and saluted. "Sir, we've obtained some initial information. Most of the slaves were taken from small villages destroyed by Delos' forces. They know little about the outside world, but several mentioned the Tower of Magic as a primary buyer of such cargo."
Draz nodded and glanced toward one of the interrogation rooms, where Hitos was being questioned by a senior marine. He knew that Captain Hitos held the key to unraveling a larger network. Yet something about Hitos' demeanor unsettled him.
"And the captain?" Draz inquired further.
"He's been evasive, sir. But we've started piecing together details about his slave trade routes, including the main paths they use to avoid other kingdoms' patrols," the soldier replied.
Exhaling sharply, Draz said, "Good. Keep him talking. This information could be crucial for understanding the power structures in this region."
In the command room, Ragner was compiling a report for Cero, meticulously noting all the gathered intelligence. When Draz entered, Ragner glanced up and motioned for him to approach.
"Lieutenant," Ragner began bluntly, "what's your assessment of the situation?"
Taking a moment to consider, Draz's gaze rested on the world map pinned to the wall. "We've gained valuable insights, but I feel there's a larger puzzle here. The Tower of Magic, Delos, and now that entity... Isvel. It's all connected, and I'm certain Commander Cero has already sensed it."
Ragner nodded. "Isvel is indeed an outlier. She calls herself a queen, but we don't yet know if that's fact or bravado. If she's telling the truth, then we're dealing with a far greater problem. Her power might be beyond what we can handle."
Resting his hands on the table, Draz's expression turned grave. "But if Commander Cero can find a way to leverage her… she could become our greatest weapon."
Ragner remained silent for a moment before speaking cautiously. "I just hope this plan doesn't lead us to disaster. This world is full of forces we don't yet understand. Every step we take must be measured."
In the reinforced cell, Isvel sat in the corner, her magical chains still tightly secured. Despite her confinement, her aura of arrogance radiated strongly. A marine on guard watched her from behind the enchanted glass, feeling uneasy under her unrelenting gaze.
"She keeps staring like that," the marine whispered to his partner. "As if she knows something we don't."
"Of course, she does," his partner replied softly. "She's no ordinary being. She calls herself a queen. If that's true, who knows what secrets she's hiding?"
On the other side of the glass, Isvel heard their whispers, though she feigned indifference. Inwardly, she calmly assessed her predicament. Arcana Cero… who exactly are you? she wondered, narrowing her eyes. This technology… it's not from this world.
When Cero finally entered her detention cell that evening, Isvel turned her head slowly, a faint smirk playing on her lips. "Ah, the leader himself graces me with his presence. Are you satisfied with your interrogations, Cero?"
Cero's cold gaze remained unshaken by her mocking tone. His expression was composed, his eyes calculating every word and movement. "I got what I needed," he replied flatly. "But I suspect you have far more to offer. I don't have time for games."
Isvel chuckled softly, her laughter carrying a chilling resonance in the confined space. There was satisfaction in her crimson eyes as she spoke. "You're an intriguing one, Arcana Cero. You're not like the ordinary humans of this world. I wonder… will you become my ally or my enemy?"
Cero's brow furrowed slightly, though his tone remained steady. "I'm not here for your games, Isvel Tharion. Answer my question plainly: What kind of world is this?"
Isvel straightened, her chains clinking as she shifted her posture. A faint smile returned to her lips, this time laced with mystery. "Cero, call me Isvel," she said in a softer, yet still mocking tone. Her crimson eyes studied him with genuine curiosity. "As for your question… you must first answer mine. Where do you come from? Judging by your question, it's clear you and your soldiers are not of this world."
Cero stood silent for a moment, his gaze piercing into Isvel's, before finally speaking. "No, we are not. But they are," he said, gesturing subtly toward the shadow of the marine standing guard outside the cell. "They are part of the force I command. I don't know how or why, but I have the ability to summon them as my subordinates."
Isvel raised an eyebrow, her eyes glinting with curiosity. "A power to summon an army… That doesn't sound like something from this world."
"I don't know where this power came from," Cero admitted, his tone deeper, almost reflective. "I suddenly found myself stranded on an island, with no memories of who I was. This ability came to me as if it had always been there, ingrained in my mind. But I don't care who gave it to me or what their purpose is. I care about one thing—now I have an ambition."
Isvel narrowed her eyes, her cynical smile shifting into genuine curiosity. "What kind of ambition, Arcana Cero?"
Cero let a small grin creep onto his face, his voice filled with confidence. "To make everyone in this world know who I am."
Isvel chuckled softly, this time with a warmth that was laced with sarcasm. "That's a grand ambition, Cero. But the question is, what are you willing to do to achieve it?"
"Heh," Cero scoffed, taking a step back. "You'll just have to watch and see. But before that, I need answers. Tell me, Isvel—what kind of world is this?"
Isvel sighed deeply, leaning back against the wall of her cell. Her gaze fixed on Cero, as if weighing whether he was worthy of the truth. Finally, she spoke.
"This world, Cero, is called Althera. It is shaped by two great forces: Essentia, the energy that flows through nature and creates life, and Abyssal, the dark energy that destroys and corrupts everything it touches. These two forces are in constant conflict, not directly, but through the creatures, humans, and civilizations they influence."
Cero listened intently as Isvel continued. "On this land, there are three major powers. The first is the Kingdom of Delos, the largest human faction that wields Essentia through their magi. They aim to conquer the entire continent, with the Tower of Magic as their closest ally."
She paused, a cynical smile curling on her lips. "The second is the Confederation of Yurlath, a coalition of autonomous city-states ruled by merchant guilds and mercenary armies. They care more for wealth than war, but they've mastered the art of using money to control battles."
Cero gave a slight nod. "And the third?"
Isvel chuckled softly, though her tone grew colder. "The third is the Abyssal Domain, where beings like me originate. The Abyssal obey no laws of this world. They are entities born of chaos, and they have one purpose: to disrupt the balance. Unfortunately, the domain is never united—its entities prefer destroying each other to uniting against a common enemy."
Cero raised an eyebrow. "And where does your kingdom, Yundal, fit into all of this?"
Isvel fell silent, her gaze growing somber. "My kingdom… is an anomaly. We refused to join Delos or submit to the Abyssal's influence. We were independent wielders of Essentia, and that's why we were destroyed. My power itself is the result of a fusion between Essentia and Abyssal. A curse, as they call it."
Cero observed the subtle shift in Isvel's expression as she mentioned her ambitions. For a brief moment, he saw something rare—a mix of respect, curiosity, and perhaps a hint of caution. Yet he remained silent, letting the atmosphere between them speak louder than words.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile formed on his lips. Isvel noticed. Fixing him with a sharp gaze and a tone brimming with curiosity, she asked, "Why are you smiling?"