After a long journey across the open plains and the rolling hills beyond them, they finally arrived at the Sillinghter’s tower. It rose alone against the horizon, tall and silent, its presence dominating the quiet land around it. “We’re here,” the Vaelcryx said as they approached the gate. The gate itself was peculiar. It was built from stones of different sizes and colors, carefully pressed together into a single structure. Some were dark gray, others reddish, some nearly black. Despite the variation in color, none of the stones shimmered or reflected light. Their surfaces were dull, worn by time, as though the structure had stood there long before anyone could remember. Draven lifted his gaze toward the towering structure. “Such a massive tower just for exchange?” he thought. The thought lingered only briefly before he dismissed it. “A gate man or what?” he asked, noticing that the entrance remained firmly shut. “Self-detecting,” the Vaelcryx replied immediately.

“Your death, my command,” the voice echoed, followed by a low, unsettling laugh that rolled through the air like a distant storm. Draven shifted his gaze toward the Vaelcryx. The creature had returned fully to its original state, its form no longer flickering or fading, its presence now stable and grounded. “Thank you, Master. I’ll guide myself,” the Vaelcryx said, its tone steadier than before. Draven lifted his hand slightly and made a subtle motion. The blue flame shield that had been wrapped around the Vaelcryx dissolved instantly, fading into nothing. The Vaelcryx drew in a breath and released a powerful roar that rippled through the space. Lightning surged from its body in a violent burst, spreading outward before forming a crackling shield around it. Another wave followed, thicker and more condensed, wrapping over the first until a dense, transparent globe encased its entire form, pulsing faintly with energy. “Good one,” Draven said, his voice calm, almost indifferent.

“Eryon!!” The Aurethrion’s voice rolled through the cavern like thunder, sharp and commanding, echoing off the jagged stone walls. A massive thudding sound followed, vibrating through the floor as a towering creature appeared, its head shaped like the Vaelcryx’s but far larger, more angular, and menacing, its body that of a bodybuilder, corded with raw muscle. Its legs were forged from metal, thick and hammer-like, capable of crushing anything underfoot. The creature’s presence alone made the cave tremble slightly. It was a Nknervite. “Yes, master?” the Nknervite rumbled, bowing its head low in reverence, the weight of obedience evident in its massive form. Draven felt the urge to summon his powers, but he cut it off before it even surfaced. Summoning powers… The thought never left his lips; he would not let the Aurethrion know how strong he was. Every second here mattered, and he could not afford to reveal even the slightest advantage. “Entertain me with this human,” the Auret

In the physical realm… “Mom sold me, Dad is dead. What’s the point of living?” Abigail muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible as she stood at the very edge of the window. The wind brushed against her skin, tugging lightly at her hospital gown as if trying to pull her back, but she remained still, her toes just over the ledge, her body swaying faintly. A tear slipped from her eye, trailing slowly down her cheek before falling into nothingness below. She swallowed hard, her throat tight, her chest rising unevenly as she shut her eyes. “I’d rather take my own life than die in the hands of that bastard,” she thought, the words settling heavily within her. And then she leaned forward. There was no hesitation after that. Her body tipped into the air, and gravity took her completely. She fell. The world rushed upward toward her as the air roared past her ears. Her hair whipped around her face, her gown fluttering wildly as she dropped from the height. Her eyes re

“But first, I need Abby well,” Draven thought to himself, his eyes fixed on Abigail. He did not look away from her, his attention remained locked on her fragile form lying on the bed. Every rise and fall of her chest felt like something he had to witness, something he could not afford to miss. A soft knock came on the door, the sound careful, almost hesitant, as though whoever stood outside feared disturbing. Draven lifted his gaze slowly. His hand moved across his face, wiping away the traces of emotion that had lingered there. By the time he looked toward the door, his expression had settled into something firm again, something controlled. “Come in,” he said. The door opened gradually, revealing the nurse from earlier. Beside her stood two other ladies dressed in light blue scrubs, their posture composed, their expressions professional. Draven gave a slight nod, a silent permission for them to proceed. “The sedative I administered to her will expire in a few hours. Before