The air in the record room was thick with silence, so much so that Zero could hear the sound of his own breathing and the faint rustle of the page as the chronicle turned again—this time without his hand. It was eerie, almost like the book anticipated his doubts, answering them before he could even form the questions aloud. The parchment stilled, and in flowing ink, the story deepened.
"The duel with the Devil King stretched beyond the limits of mortal endurance," the script read, the words almost glowing under the dim lantern light. Zero leaned closer, his pulse quickening. He could almost see it: the grand hall of the palace, the shattered chandeliers hanging like broken stars overhead, the throne itself cracked under the tremors of battle.
