Ravenfell, Acadian Empire.

The city still bore scars of war. Blackened stone walls stood half-collapsed, and entire rows of houses had been reduced to piles of rubble.

Shattered roofs and broken carts lay scattered across the streets, a reminder of the battle that had ended only months ago. The air still carried the a faint smell of ash… and blood. Though, it was slowly being replaced by the smell of freshly cut timber and lime plaster.

The city of Ravenfell was slowly but surely rising to its feet. Amidst the ruins, life had begun to stir again. Mortals worked in groups, hauling stone blocks, stacking bricks, and cutting wood to patch broken walls.

Wooden scaffolds leaned against crumbling buildings, while families sifted through debris to salvage what little they could. Here and there, new thatched roofs stood among ruins. Though they were temporary living conditions, they showed stubborn signs of recovery.

The Magi, too, helped with the rebuilding efforts. After all, this was their home as well. Mortals build the structures, and Magi strengthened them through magic. Together, they worked hand in hand to rebuild the place they once called home.

These people looked worn and haggard, yet their movements carried a sense of purpose. Men and women carried rubble out of the main streets, while children ran back and forth carrying buckets of water or small bundles of stone chips. City guards walked their rounds, either helping the residents or keeping a wary eye out for thieves.

In the heart of the city, a temporary market square was beginning to breathe again. In the Battle of Ravenfell, all six districts had been laid to ruin. The Corvid Quarter was blown to smithereens, whereas the Northern Quarter was completely decimated by the battle between the Mana Core Magi.

Although the great battle had ended more than three months ago, the area had remained uninhabitable for the longest time due to the rampant residual mana saturating the air. Ordinary mortals couldn't even come anywhere near the battlefield. Only after the lingering mana finally settled did the first rebuilding efforts begin.

Though Ravenfell was far from restored, it was only a matter of time. Its residents' eyes gleamed with resilience. They no longer spoke of escape or despair. Instead, they spoke of rebuilding brick by brick, wall by wall, determined to reclaim the life that war had tried to strip away.

Atop a cliff on the edge of what was once the Harbor Quarter, overlooking the vast Galestine Ocean, two figures stood, their gazes fixed on the tens of thousands of people below, toiling to rebuild their shattered homes.

One was a muscular old man with a stocky build. He had broad shoulders and a head full of gray hair. Draped over his dark robes was an oddly familiar cloak, woven from countless raven feathers.

It was the mantle once worn by the previous Headmaster of Saratoga, Marcus Blackwood. And the man who now inherited it… was his disciple, Daniel Ranzenberg.

In the aftermath of the Battle of Ravenfell, he was entrusted with another responsibility as well… the title of Lord Marshall, a position once held by Blackwood's late disciple, Sabrina Benton.

Daniel's expression was as stoic as ever as he glanced at the residents on the ground. He remained silent for a long time, then finally said, "You still haven't answered me."

"About what?"

Beside him stood an elf with ash-blonde hair and pale skin. He was draped in black as well, and carried a silver longsword at his waist—an artifact he had inherited from Marcus Blackwood.

This man was none other than the Fourth Headmaster of Saratoga Castle and the current Lord of Ravenfell, Nylian Feno.

Daniel's eyes narrowed, a cold yet conflicting emotion gleaming sharply in them. He turned to his childhood friend and fellow disciple, and growled:

"You know what I'm talking about. Don't beat around the bush anymore, Nylian. It's been more than three months, yet you haven't apprehended them. I need to know why."

The wind swept against Nylian's figure, sending his pale hair gently fluttering behind him. His calm demeanor and ethereal grace made him seem no different than a celestial being who had descended to the lower realms.

Ever since his advancement to the Mana Core Rank, Nylian's very presence had transformed. His aura was so unearthly that it was as though he didn't belong in his world.

His gaze was still locked onto the people down below as he gently said, "Why should I apprehend them? They haven't done anything wrong."

A cold aura radiated from Daniel. He turned to his friend and deeply looked at him for a long time. At last, he said, his tone laced with finality:

"They are criminals just by association. As disciples of that vile traitor, they must be seized and punished accordingly. Stop shielding them, Nylian. My patience has already worn thin."

Nylian remained silent at those words, his gaze distant and unreadable. Mistaking his silence for compliance, Daniel continued:

"Think about it, Nylian. Adam knew everything that was going to happen in the Battle of Ravenfell, and that is why he evacuated his sister and the rest from the city beforehand.

"Don't forget, it was he who teleported all the young Magi to Saratoga, fully aware that the Cultists had the means to infiltrate the castle. He knew it all! Do I need to go on?"

Nylain heaved a long and heavy sigh. At last, he turned to look at his friend and said, "Did you know, I was there when it happened?"

Daniel frowned.

"I was there when Marden retrieved that stone tablet and activated it. Since then, all our memories have been… twisted—" Nylian began, but Daniel immediately interrupted him.

"How can you be so certain? How can you claim that, when every single survivor of the battle believes the same of Adam?"

Nylian sighed yet again, then answered in a soft voice, "I saw Adam's own men turn against him. They stabbed the kid, Daniel. About a dozen blades lodged into his chest and stomach. And then…"

The elf recalled what had transpired after. It was something that shocked him to his very core. "And then that dragon appeared. Heh, I didn't even think those legendary creatures were real."

He paused for a moment, his lips curling into a bitter smile. "The point is, I was right there when it all went down. If I wanted to, I could have very well stopped Adam and his dragon. But I didn't. Do you know why?"

Daniel remained silent, his face darkening by the second.

Nylian turned to him, then muttered in a low, yet steady voice, "Because I believe Adam is not the man they're making him out to be."

"You…" Daniel gritted his teeth, his eyes blazing with anger. "How can you say that after all that has happened?! After all that we've lost!"

Nylian looked at the skies, then answered with a sigh, "Because Adam has received the approval of Dendar Saratoga, the First Headmaster and Lord of Ravenfell."

Daniel couldn't help but frown. "What does that have to do with any of this?"

"Oh, but it does," Nylian muttered softly. "It has everything to do with this."

He looked straight into Daniel's eyes and said matter-of-factly:

"All those who enter the Raven Inheritances and pass its trials are brought before the remnant will of the First Headmaster. In his presence, every truth is laid bare. There is nothing a participant can do to conceal even their deepest secrets.

"This trial exists to ensure that the chosen will never betray the castle and the city, and that they are deemed worthy of inheriting the legacy of Dendar Saratoga. Countless people have entered the Raven Inheritances, but only three have ever emerged successful."

Nylian paused, his eyes gleaming with a peculiar light. Then, he asked:

"So tell me, Daniel… if Adam had truly been raised by the Cult, do you believe he could have hidden it from the Night Magus, Dendar Saratoga himself?"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.