The twin moons hung above the obsidian city, their reflections rippling across glass rooftops like ghostly coins tossed into ink.
Mana-lights drifted through the air, bright enough to paint silver rings across the floating canals.
The tournament banners fluttered in the distance, their sigils pulsing with slow, heartbeat rhythms.
The lanterns suspended above the black-glass streets glowed like small moons, scattering pale silver halos across rain-washed stone. The markets were alive again—vendors calling from crystal kiosks, enchantments floating like fireflies over arrays of fruit, jewelry, and relics.
The girls went exploring first: Rose with her usual elegance, trailing behind her attendants, and a few of the female participants of the delegation tagging along. They passed beneath banners and bridges where glass ivy shimmered with mana. Rose stopped often—not to buy, but to admire the craftsmanship. A ring of blood-gold light caught her eye; the merchant saw the face of Seraphina flinched when she smiled.
"How much is this?" she asked.
"Fifty thousand Lunaris," the merchant began—
—but she had already paid before he finished speaking.
Rose smiled and waved saying, "thank you very much". Then he waved back before nervously closing off his store.
Meanwhile, the boys claimed a neon-lit gaming lounge carved into the side of an air-rail station.
Inside, holographic arenas spun in the air like galaxies in jars. Rin, Caelum, Aedric Ignivar, Rauthos Ignivar, Valen Crimsae, and Kareth Ferros took turns at the consoles, their laughter echoing through the metallic hall.
Afterwards they went to virtual reality pod room for more fun. They climbed into the VR pods. The world blinked out—then rebooted into light and chaos.
Two teams spawned across a blood-red battlefield. The countdown began.
It was a death match.
Caelum dominated every match.
"Don't hate the player," he said, leaning back with that lopsided grin.
Rin sipped from a can of soda without looking up. "We already do."
Even Rin laughed once—barely audible but enough to make the others freeze and cheer that they'd finally cracked him.
When their session ended, they spilled back into the night, hands in pockets, joking as they walked the glass bridges that stretched between towers. The city looked unreal from here: black spires tipped in silver light, the Crownspire pulsing faintly in the distance like a living heart.
Rose and her group rejoined them near the upper promenade. The delegation looked less like diplomats now and more like friends in a foreign city, warmed by good food and neon glow.
Then the crowd shifted.
Across the plaza, Vaelira Noxviel walked with two fellow mages, their robes trailing faint traces of light. She wasn't looking for anyone—but her gaze met Caelum's for the briefest instant.
A spark. No words.
She offered the faintest nod before continuing forward.
Caelum excused himself with a grin. "Don't wait up."
Rin just shook his head. Rose arched a brow but said nothing.
Moments later, Caelum was beside Vaelira again, and they disappeared into the lantern-lit crowd, their silhouettes framed by falling petals of pale mana.
---
The wind carried the scent of crystal bloom and night life, the laughter of a thousand voices echoing across the suspended bridges.
Then the first firework rose.
It streaked upward like a comet — a silver spear cutting through the quiet — before bursting into a blossom of blue fire. The sky rippled with its reflection, and the light spilled across glass towers and floating gardens, setting the world aglow in shifting hues.
More followed.
Ribbons of red, violet, and emerald spiraled upward, twisting around each other like dragons dancing in the air. The explosions overlapped — thunder without anger, beauty without restraint.
The Conflux of Crowns's banner caught the light, its crest gleaming with borrowed flame. The people below tilted their faces upward, eyes wide, as though watching the heavens speak.
For a heartbeat, even the stars seemed to hesitate — outshone by mortal celebration.
Among the crowd, Rin stood still, hands in his pockets, the colors flickering across his eyes. Each burst painted his reflection in shades that didn't belong to him — crimson, azure, gold — until the night became a kaleidoscope of borrowed light.
One last flare rose higher than the rest — white and brilliant, a bloom that didn't fade but hung suspended, scattering starlight like petals across the city.
When it dimmed, silence followed — the kind of silence that only comes after wonder.
Hours later, the delegation assembled for dinner at The Azure Crown, the royal restaurant reserved for honored guests.
The hall floated—literally—above the upper district, held by invisible runes. Curtains of dark crystal shimmered like liquid shadow. The tables were etched with silver veins that pulsed softly, synchronizing with the rhythm of the city's mana grid.
A quartet of musicians played low notes on floating instruments. The melody was elegant but heavy, like the calm before thunder.
Rin sat by the window again, watching lights flicker beyond the horizon. Rose handled polite conversation with the Dark Elf officials. Caelum was absent; no one asked where. Coelion was there, quiet, every motion too controlled, his pupils reflecting an amber hue that wasn't natural.
Dinner ended on a toast.
> "To peace through strength," the minister said.
The crystal glasses chimed like falling stars.
When the crowd dispersed, Rin declined the offer of a night tour and returned alone to his suite. The hall was silent except for the silent hum of the hotel's mana vein running like electricity.
He stopped at his door.
There—beneath the hum—another rhythm.
Footsteps that didn't exist. A whisper of distorted space.
He turned the handle slowly.
The lights died.
The shadows moved first. Seven assassins dropped from the ceiling in perfect silence, masks marked with the sigil of an assasin squad—professional killers ranked at least s-class. Their blades were laced with null-runes meant to sever mana flow and negate magic.
Rin didn't flinch.
He simply breathed.
The world obeyed.
Time fractured. Sound collapsed. The assassins froze mid-strike, blades inches from his throat. The color drained from the room until everything stood suspended in crystalline stillness.
Rin's eyes glowed faint frost-blue as he walked among them, adjusting their poses like a craftsman rearranging statues.
A twist—one's arm broken.
A push—another's neck paralyzed.
A punch — and another's ribs were shattered
A kick and one's pelvic bone was shattered
Each motion gentle, almost respectful, yet absolute.
When the seventh fell mid-air, Rin whispered,
> "You should have stayed in the dark."
He exhaled; frost bloomed across the room, freezing the assassins where they hung.
In the next blink, they vanished.
At the city's edge, alarm wards flared as seven bound figures materialized before the police garrison, each encased in transparent frost. A slip of paper rested on the leader's chest:
> Next time, send better.
By the time the sirens rang, Rin was back in bed, eyes closed, heartbeat steady.
Across the hall, Rose sat upright, breath sharp.
For a single second, everything—sound, movement, even mana—had stopped.
Then it returned.
Miles away, Vaelira Noxviel's cup froze mid-pour at that same moment and resumed. Although she didn't know that time stopped, she could sense it.
> "That power…" she whispered.
---
The following morning, Noctisviel awakened to chaos.
Broadcast drones flooded the skies, transmitting across every screen:
SEVEN S-CLASS ASSASSINS CAPTURED OVERNIGHT. UNKNOWN METHOD.
Crowds gathered at plazas where the Bounty Wall—a colossal holographic pillar of names and prices—glowed with fresh updates. The seven assassins' portraits rotated, marked CAPTURED.
> "No one saw it happen!"
"They just appeared at the station!"
As the the camera zoomed out on the bounty hall, one image at the corner was a sketch —Vaelira Noxviel, beneath a new section labeled Disaster Class Individuals.
Vaelira Noxviel – Disaster Class / Bounty Value 5 Billion Lunaris
Rin was slightly surprised. However with his instinct, he came to a conclusion.
> "She's not a criminal!"
"If she is on the news it's probably a power index…"
"And to show how much they value strength here."
The revelation hit like quiet thunder.
In Noctisviel, power itself determined worth. The bounty was not punishment—it was recognition.
Rose watched the broadcast from their breakfast hall, stirring her tea slowly.
> "A society where strength is price-tagged," she murmured. "How efficient."
Rin ate silently. Caelum leaned over her shoulder to grin at his new trending status from the previous day.
---
Coelion's suite was dim.
Screens replayed the bounty footage on loop, bathing him in pale light. His reflection looked fractured across the shards of the mirror he'd already punched once that morning.
> "High-level assassins," the announcer said. "Neutralized instantly."
He clenched his fists. The veins under his skin burned with leftover mana from the pills.
> "He erased them…"
"Like they were nothing."
The words scraped against his pride. His breath grew heavy.
> "I'll end you, Rin Sylvanyr… even if it kills me, since my life would be ruined when i return either way."
Elsewhere, Rose watched Rin eat in silence—calm, detached, utterly unaffected.
She said nothing. She didn't need to.
The quiet between them said more than any reprimand could.
Vaelira, meanwhile, couldn't sleep.
Images of a man looped endlessly in her mind—Caelum's disarming warmth.
For the first time in years, she couldn't tell whether what she felt was fear, fascination, or something else entirely.
---
Evening returned, painting the capital in molten violet.
Construction teams hoisted banners across the Crown Plaza, each emblazoned with sigils of the Five Elven Realms.
The Conflux of Crowns would begin tomorrow.
From his balcony, Rin watched the preparations—the crowds, the banners, the anticipation curling through the air like distant thunder.
A cold breeze passed. His coat stirred.
> "So it begins."
A knock sounded behind him.
He didn't turn—only opened his eyes, frost glinting faintly in the dusk.
Fade out.