"Good evening, Mr. Airu," said Vermillion to Julius.
"Good evening, Vermillion," Julius replied with a yawn.
The two of them were seated at a grand, circular table as breakfast was being served by silent attendants. The dining hall they sat in was vast and imposing, lit by dozens of lanterns hanging from a high ceiling. The ceiling, like the walls and floor, was crafted from deep crimson stone, casting a warm glow throughout the room. Massive, rounded pillars—also red—stood at the corners like silent sentinels.
Along one wall were tall windows that faced outward. Through them, beams of late-morning sunlight streamed in, merging beautifully with the soft lanternlight, casting an amber haze over everything. It was a morning drenched in heat—the sun above was burning at full strength. Yet despite this, not one of the individuals at the table seemed bothered. Not a bead of sweat touched their foreheads. If anything, they were at peace.
The air outside was warm, but carried with it a subtle undertone of chill. On the horizon, the trees across the rolling hills shimmered under the sunlight, their leaves aglow with life. Even the rocks glistened gold, basking in the blessing of the day. The grass, catching the same golden rays, swayed as if in celebration.
"You look like you're still sleepy," Vermillion observed, glancing at Julius.
But Julius wasn't alone in this hall. Around the table were several key figures: Vermillion himself, Zhou Rui, Marcus, and the Grand Mage.
"And what do you expect me to look like, then?" Julius shot back. "Do you even understand how hard it is for me to get some proper sleep these days?"
"Why? What happened?" asked Vermillion.
Julius sighed dramatically. "Vermillion, your Grand Mage here asked me to create two sleeping bags. And I did. You know what he did with them? He hung both of them from a tree. We had to sleep vertically. And if that wasn't enough, we were assaulted by a swarm of mosquitoes. And just when I managed to finally fall asleep… this old man starts snoring like a thunderstorm."
The moment Julius finished, the Grand Mage burst into laughter. "If you're going to be rattled by something as small as this, how will you endure what lies ahead?"
Hearing this, Marcus, Zhou Rui, and even Vermillion chuckled. Soon the Grand Mage joined in too, their laughter echoing in the chamber like the chiming of old bells.
Behind the table, the line of waiters stood still like trained soldiers. Their left arms hung straight at their sides while their right arms bent into an L-shape, each holding a pristine towel draped over their forearm.
"Vermillion, where are the other Throne Guardians?" Julius asked, glancing around the table. "Only the Grand Mage is here."
Vermillion met his gaze and replied, "They're out on a mission."
"What kind of mission?"
Before Vermillion could reply, the Grand Mage interjected, "Kid, poking your nose into other people's business isn't a good habit."
"Tsk." Julius clicked his tongue and looked away.
"Breakfast is getting cold," Vermillion reminded them.
With that, everyone returned to their meals. Yet despite the calmness of the scene, there was something different about Vermillion. A quiet tension clung to his expression. Julius noticed it, but chose not to say anything.
Once breakfast concluded, the Grand Mage stood and addressed Julius.
"It's time for training. Let's go."
"Alright."
Together, they exited the palace.
As Julius stepped outside, sunlight struck his face. Instinctively, he raised his right hand to shield his eyes.
"Sunlight is good for the bones," the Grand Mage commented.
"Old men shouldn't talk too much. Their backs might start hurting." Julius countered.
"Tsk."
They made their way to the tree where Julius had trained the previous night. The training ground was nestled between two rocky hills, its quiet serenity broken only by the rustling of leaves.
Meanwhile, back in the throne room, Vermillion sat upon his elevated throne while Marcus and Zhou Rui knelt below at the foot of the stairs.
"Have we received any information from them?" Vermillion asked.
Marcus responded solemnly, "Unfortunately, no word has come yet, Lord Vermillion."
"I see… very well."
Zhou Rui then spoke up, "But Lord Vermillion, what if… the report was false?"
"Why do you say that?" Vermillion asked, raising an eyebrow.
"According to their texts, they had sealed them away. So how could they have been the ones to attack Diamond Palace? What if it was someone—or something—else entirely? Perhaps the keepers panicked and misunderstood the situation."
Vermillion considered it for a moment. "That's a reasonable possibility. But Zhou Rui… the magic power samples we recovered from the site match theirs. That alone suggests their involvement."
Zhou Rui fell silent.
Back at the training site, Julius sat atop the same flat stone as before, nestled under the protective shade of the tree's branches and leaves. His legs were crossed, his hands resting on his knees, and his eyes were closed. He was trying to feel the rhythm of nature, the current of energy within the world itself.
Unseen by them, on the rocky hill behind them, a figure crouched in silence.
A shadowy silhouette, cloaked in mystery, sat at the very top. One leg hung off the edge while the other was crossed. Its left palm touched the ground for balance, and on the index finger of its right hand perched a strange, indistinct bird-like creature. The details of the creature were obscured, just like the figure that held it.
Two sharp horns protruded from the figure's head.
The figure muttered under its breath, voice laced with disdain:
"Do they really believe they can defeat us with this kind of training?"