The chaos of the world outside had been left behind this door.

The moment Cassian, having overcome the armored guards with his body and the sorcerer with his cunning, reached his destination, he saw that the room already had an occupant.

In a large, carved armchair across from the fireplace sat a man in his late twenties.

His ash-colored hair was cut short but neatly styled.

His muscular physique, sculpted by countless battles and training, was evident even beneath the simple yet fine fabric of his shirt.

This man was Fredrinn, the Ruler of Veythral.

Fredrinn showed no reaction as Cassian slipped into the room.

His gaze was lost in the vortex of dark red liquid swirling within the wine glass he held.

It wasn't that he hadn't sensed Cassian's presence.

On the contrary, he possessed a calm that suggested he had been expecting his arrival.

He was already aware of him.

After taking a slow sip from his glass, Fredrinn spoke without turning his gaze to Cassian.

His voice was as smooth as stones at the bottom of a river, and just as cold.

"I suppose you must be the reason for the commotion outside."

Cassian was not surprised in the least by this indifferent reception.

A proud, mocking smile spread across his face, like that of an actor playing the final act of a successful play.

"For you to make such a guess shows you're more clever than I thought, Fredrinn, King of Adventurers. Or should I address you as the rebellious scion of Count Osric d'Artoisin? Which do you prefer?"

It was a direct provocation.

A brazen move, throwing his noble past—and his break from it—in his face.

Yet, Fredrinn remained impassive in the face of the young man's taunt.

Not a single emotion flickered across his features.

He slowly placed the glass on the small table beside him and finally fixed his eyes fully on Cassian.

His stare was as piercing as a wolf's sizing up its prey.

"Did you stir up all this commotion just to come here and play the part of an irritating gnat? If that's all you're after, you can return to whence you came after I place your head on this table."

The threat hung in the air like steel.

But Cassian was unfazed by this deadly calm.

He laughed, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Alright, alright. I'd prefer my head to remain on my shoulders. And no, I came here to make you an offer you're going to love."

His confidence didn't waver for a second against Fredrinn's crushing aura.

A look of boredom crossed Fredrinn's face.

"If by 'an offer I'm going to love,' you mean some foolish dungeon raid for a few gold coins or the overthrow of some petty noble house, rest assured your head will find its way to my table."

"Hahaha, of course it's nothing so trivial," Cassian replied.

He walked toward the empty chair in front of Fredrinn and sat down without deigning to ask for permission.

The move was a clear challenge to the balance of power in the room.

He leaned back comfortably, crossed his legs, and locked his eyes with Fredrinn's.

Then, a single word, like a whisper that filled the entire room, fell from Cassian's lips.

"Julian."

In that moment, time stopped for Fredrinn.

The indifferent mask on the ash-haired ruler's face cracked and shattered.

The cold glint in his eyes vanished, replaced by the ghosts of shock, disbelief, and a pain he had suppressed for years.

This stranger, this boy… how did he know that name?

It was impossible.

He had shared that name with no one but a few trusted people

Julian was his locked-away heart, his bleeding wound.

And now, a man he had never met had slipped into his chamber like a shadow and laid his deepest secret bare.

Just as Cassian had dropped this bombshell, the door was kicked wide open and Rose burst in.

Her hand was wrapped tightly around her staff, her eyes blazing with fury.

Her gaze locked onto Cassian, who sat comfortably in his chair.

Cassian turned his head slowly toward Rose, clearly annoyed by the interruption.

The smirk on his face deepened.

"Hmm, you must be the help. Could you bring my friend Fredrinn a chamomile tea, and a fruit juice for me?"

The condescending words fueled Rose's anger and astonishment.

"Lord Fredrinn, my liege, this man—"

Before Rose could finish her sentence, Fredrinn's voice cracked like a whip.

"GET OUT."

Those two words were more than a simple command.

They carried a suppressed rage, a panic, and an absolute authority.

Rose hesitated.

Her eyes darted between her frozen leader and the stranger watching her with an infuriating smile.

She sensed that something was terribly wrong, but she could not defy the order.

She bowed her head in helpless submission and left the room.

The sound of the closing door was followed by silence, but this one was far heavier, far more tense.

Fredrinn was the first to break it, his eyes burning like embers.

"What do you know about Julian? And what is this 'offer'?"

His voice was ice, less a question than an interrogation.

"What do I know? Hmmm..." Cassian feigned a thoughtful expression. "I believe I can say I know much more than you do."

Fredrinn's patience was wearing thin.

The oppressive aura emanating from him thickened the air in the room, causing even the flames in the fireplace to tremble.

But Cassian remained as untouched by this crushing pressure as if it were a summer breeze.

"Stop playing with words and speak plainly!" Fredrinn roared.

"Alright, alright, calm down," Cassian replied, trying to hide his amusement. "I know that Julian was your closest friend and that you lost him while searching for an 'artifact' in some old ruin. A classic tale of tragic friendship... And that glowing stone you keep hidden under your shirt, pressed against your chest, must be the very stone you took from that ruin."

Cassian paused, gauging the effect of his words on Fredrinn.

Then, he delivered the critical question.

"But do you know what that stone truly is, aside from being a weapon that grants you great power?"

Fredrinn did not answer.

He merely continued to stare at him in silence.

This silence was the answer Cassian expected.

Cassian continued, a grin spreading across his face.

"Just as I thought. You don't know. That stone on your chest is no ordinary magical object, Fredrinn. It is a remnant of a god's very essence."

With that sentence, the atmosphere in the room changed completely.

This was no longer a struggle between two warriors; it was the beginning of a much older, darker story.

"Hundreds of years ago, the war between the Gods of Light and Darkness escalated into a calamity that tore the world asunder,"

Cassian began, his voice taking on the mysterious tone of a storyteller.

"The gods of the Light finally managed to slay a deity from the ranks of darkness, 'Nerath.' Nerath was the god of chaos and suppressed desires. Once his being was extinguished, his essence was sundered, scarring the world as it fractured."

"These fragments were not pure spiritual energy. Each was a splinter torn from Nerath's core, and they fell to the earth in the form of five stones. When the Empire was founded upon these vast lands, each of these stones was cast into a different region. And they corrupted every place they fell; they twisted living beings, darkened nature, and poisoned the soil."

Cassian leaned forward, his eyes gleaming.

"Nerath's disciples, driven mad by his death, believed their master would one day return. They cursed themselves to await his return. They refused to age, binding their souls to these stones, and thus transformed into immortal, decayed creatures who had lost their minds. They were neither truly alive nor truly dead. "

"Though they forgot who they were over time, a single instinct remained: to protect the stones at all costs. The common folk began to call them the 'Guardians of the Gloom.' That is why every ruin where a stone lies—like the one where you lost Julian—remains a forbidden place of fear."

Fredrinn's breathing grew heavy.

He was beginning to understand that the pain he had carried for years was just a small piece of a much larger, cosmic game.

Cassian delivered the final blow.

"These days, the people of the Empire believe these stones are just a 'legend.' But we know the truth, don't we? And the truth is, one of the stones is missing: the one Julian took. His disappearance was no accident, Fredrinn. It was likely the work of one of the Guardians of the Gloom."

"Because they still believe their fallen god will return. If the five stones are brought together again, Nerath's spirit will return to this world—and he will likely be even more corrupt, more terrifying, than he was in his former power."

Cassian leaned back, his work done.

He hadn't even made his offer yet, but he had already shattered Fredrinn's world.

The quest that had driven him for years had just changed its course.

He was no longer just searching for a lost friend; he was now hunting the fragments of a god and its immortal, insane guardians.

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