Draven opened his eyes.The spirit realm vanished like mist under morning light.The strange sky, the glowing horizon, the silence—it all dissolved.He was back.Back in the physical realm.The fractured stone beneath him was whole again. The cracked mirror stood intact against the wall. The blue flames that had wrapped his body like a living armor were gone, as though they had never existed. Only faint warmth lingered in the air, like the memory of fire after it had died.Draven exhaled slowly.His gaze was steady. No flicker of doubt. No tremor of hesitation.He rose from the bare floor with deliberate calm. The room felt smaller now. Tighter. As though it could no longer contain the weight of what he carried inside.He walked toward the washroom adjoining the chamber and freshened up. Cold water ran over his face, down his neck. He stared at his reflection. His eyes were no longer glowing. They were dark again. He dried his face and stepped out, headed to the free area.“Kylen,” h

The wooden walls of the hut shuddered and creaked as if alive, closing in swiftly. A dark cloud spiraled through the room, carrying the thick, cloying stench of death. The air itself seemed to rot, pressing against Draven’s lungs, making each breath taste of decay.He moved to the center of the hut, eyes sharp, muscles coiled like steel. His gaze swept across the swirling darkness, following its movement.“Be bold enough to show yourself,” he thundered, fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles ached.It must be a beast, he thought, as the smell deepened, crawling into his mind, testing his patience and his nerve.Suddenly, the walls halted. The cloud vanished as abruptly as it had appeared, leaving nothing but silence, and then the room transformed. Before him rose a mansion walled in gold, gleaming, unreal, yet unmistakably familiar. It wasn’t just any mansion. Not just any mansion, it was his mansion, perfectly intact, as if plucked from memory and laid into the spirit realm wit

The Threnovar crashed into a massive spirit vine tree known as a Dormyrrath, the impact tearing through its rooted stillness and wrenching it violently from the ground.The earth beneath it did not crumble like soil of the physical world. It trembled, a deep spiritual tremor rippled outward in widening rings. The Dormyrrath tilted, its colossal body dragged from its ancient hold as if time itself had been disrupted.The Dormyrrath was no ordinary tree of the spirit realm.It was a vessel.A resting vessel for a vicious creator known as the Vaelcryx.For decades at a time, the Vaelcryx hibernated within its living shell, concealed behind bark and vine, dormant yet never powerless.The violent collision disturbed that slumber as the massive trunk shuddered.A fracture split through its center, long, jagged, and deep. The crack echoed as it tore wider, splintering with a sound that rolled across the field like distant thunder.From within the fracture, a cloudy mist began to leak out.A

Somewhere in Acaryn…A young lady lay helplessly on the cold marble floor.Her hands were cuffed together in front of her, the metal biting into her wrists. Her feet were chained tightly to a thick pillar rooted into the ground. The chains did not just restrain her — they reminded her of her captivity with every slight movement.Her eyes were dim, dulled from exhaustion and somewhat agony. Blood had dried faintly at the corner of her lips and beneath her nose. Her hair was coiled into a messy bun, strands falling loose over her face, sticking slightly to her damp skin.She wore nothing but her underwear.Her skin bore marks, dark hickeys scattered across her body like stains she could not wash away.“If I don’t save myself, no one else will,” she thought slowly.Even her soul felt tired.It was not just her body that ached, it was her will. Still, somewhere beneath the weakness, something remained alive.She forced herself to move.Slowly, painfully, she lifted herself into a sitting

“Abigail Draven Khaelis.”The young lady’s information appeared on the screen in front of Sergeant Collins. The glow of the monitor reflected faintly against his face as his eyes scanned through the details displayed there.He shifted his gaze toward Constable Lily.“Don’t worry, Lily. I’ll take it from here,” he said calmly.Constable Lily smiled, a small polite curve of her lips, then turned and left the room. The door slammed shut behind her, the sharp sound echoing through the office.Sergeant Collins turned to Abigail, a small smile spreading on his lips.“Okay, Abigail. I’ve gotten your parents’ details. But there’s a slight issue. Your house address stated here has now been registered under someone else. But no worries, we’ll look further into it. Could you please wait here while I get more information regarding your mum and home?” Sergeant Collins said, his smile growing wider.“That must be that evil man Veyron,” Abigail gritted through her teeth.“Pardon?”“No, no. Please go