Gone.
The word echoed through the chamber.
It should have been a relief.
Thaddeus should have felt a weight lift from his shoulders.
Starscourge Gerald—one of the most dangerous men to ever walk this world, the lone swordsman who had carved his way through an empire—was dead.
A warrior affiliated with the enemy nation. A man who had once forced the Thaddeus Duchy into retreat. A legend who had humiliated him in battle and shattered five of his greatest generals.
A threat, finally removed from the world.
But—
He didn’t feel relieved.
He didn’t feel satisfied.
He felt—
Strange.
Lucavion’s words shouldn’t have affected him like this.
And yet—
Something settled deep in his chest. A hollow weight. A realization that, despite everything, left him feeling—
Empty.
Thaddeus exhaled slowly, his fingers curling tighter against his chair.
It made sense, didn’t it?
Starscourge Gerald had disappeared from the world years ago. There had been rumors—whispers that he had entered seclusion, that he had abandoned the battlefield.
But if he had died…
Then it explained everything.
And he should have been comfortable with that fact.
Should have welcomed it.
But—
He didn’t.
Because if Gerald had truly left this world—
Then that meant—
They would never clash again.
He would never reclaim the honor that had been stolen from him on Ravencairn Plains.
Never rewrite the outcome of that battle.
Never face the one opponent who had ever made him retreat.
His golden eyes darkened.
Thaddeus didn’t want to believe it.
Not yet.
Not like this.
There had been too many revelations in the past hour—too many things to process, too many truths that shattered the very foundation of what he had known.
And now, this?
That Starscourge Gerald—one of the greatest swordsmen to ever live, the man who had once carved through his forces as if they were nothing, the man he had sworn to face again—was gone?
It felt strange.
Unreal.
No matter how much it made sense, no matter how logical the timeline was, no matter how perfectly it explained his absence from the world—
Something in him rejected it.
“This news…” His voice was quieter now, measured. “This is one of the biggest revelations in the history of the empire.” His golden eyes narrowed slightly, locking onto Lucavion.
“And yet, I am supposed to just believe it?”
Lucavion exhaled through his nose, his smirk returning, but there was a laziness to it.
“That’s up to you.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t care less whether you believe me or not.”
Thaddeus stiffened at the sheer ease with which he spoke.
But before he could respond—
Lucavion lifted his hand.
And once more—
The black light unfurled from his palm.
Dark, fluid, and endless.
Like space itself had bled into the room.
And within it—
Tiny stars flickered, swirling in an unseen current.
Lucavion let the moment stretch, letting the energy breathe before speaking again.
“But,” he mused, tilting his head slightly, “this energy is the living proof, is it not?”
Thaddeus’ breath slowed as he watched the blackened starlight coil around Lucavion’s fingers.
And then—
A realization settled in his mind.
“…Just as I’ve seen Starscourge Gerald’s powers before,” he murmured, his voice low, thoughtful, “his starlight was purple.”
Lucavion nodded once.
“Indeed.”
Silence filled the room once more, but it was different now.
He let the light twist in his grasp, let Thaddeus see it, feel it.
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And then—
His dark eyes gleamed, his smirk curving just slightly.
“And that’s not something I can control.”
Thaddeus frowned, his expression unreadable.
Lucavion tilted his head slightly, voice quieter, more certain.
“After all, I’m not Master, am I?”
A pause.
“I am a different person.”
The black light pulsed once—
And then faded.
Thaddeus had no words for that.
Because despite every instinct telling him to reject it—
Despite the part of him that wanted to deny it—
He knew.
This kid was not lying.
Lucavion exhaled, stretching his fingers as the blackened starlight faded from his palm. His smirk remained, but there was something different in his eyes now—something quieter, more deliberate.
“Now, do you understand?” he said, his tone still casual, but laced with an unmistakable weight. “Why I know so much about that Kraken? About Aeliana’s illness?”
Thaddeus remained silent, his golden eyes sharp, unreadable.
Lucavion tilted his head slightly, gaze flickering toward Aeliana.
“It’s because of my master.”
Aeliana stiffened slightly.
“Because both he and I… share something similar to that creature.”
The words sank into the air like stones. Heavy. Unshakable.
“Hadn’t you felt it before, Little Ember?” Lucavion’s dark eyes locked onto hers, piercing. “The way my energy felt familiar to you? The way it reminded you of that Kraken?”
Aeliana’s breath hitched.
Because—
She had.
The first time she had seen him use his power, that strange, unnatural black light with its shifting stars—she had felt something. An instinctual pull. A recognition she couldn’t explain.
And now—
Now, she understood why.
“That feeling was because of the other ‘thing’ inside you.” Lucavion’s voice softened, but the weight of his words did not. “It resonated with you.”
Aeliana’s mind reeled.
The past—every strange, unexplainable sensation, every moment where she had felt something beyond herself—it all made sense.
When the Kraken had swallowed her, when she had been dragged into the depths, there had been a moment.
A moment where she had felt something reach out to her.
Not in hostility.
But in recognition.
Her fingers curled against her dress.
Because as much as all of this sounded impossible—
No matter how absurd, how unthinkable—
She knew.
He wasn’t lying.
Because she had seen him lie before.
Or rather—she had seen how bad he was at lying.
Lucavion was a master at hiding things, at twisting words, at using that damned smirk and effortless charm to dance around the truth.
Aeliana raised her head and met his gaze.
Lucavion’s dark eyes, ever filled with mischief and confidence, held none of the usual deception this time. No exaggeration, no flourish, no half-truths wrapped in clever words.
Just certainty.
And that was the final proof she needed.
She almost smiled.
Indeed, you bastard. You just can’t lie.
The realization was almost amusing, almost enough to make her let her guard down—but she refused to give him the satisfaction.
Instead, she schooled her expression, tilting her head ever so slightly as if still weighing his words.
“Hmm,” she murmured, voice measured. “So you claim it resonated with me. That the ‘other thing’ inside me, as you call it, is connected to all of this.”
She let the words stretch, watching for any reaction.
Lucavion merely leaned back slightly, waiting.
She let the words stretch, watching for any reaction.
Lucavion merely leaned back slightly, waiting.
“And if that’s the case,” she continued, crossing her arms, “then what exactly does that mean? That I have something inside me that is… what? Like that Kraken? Like you?”
She wasn’t going to let him lead the conversation so easily.
If he had all these answers, then he could work for it.