The scroll continued to glow, casting illumination across the table. Derek watched it intently, but as the seconds stretched on, nothing else happened. The light remained steady, yet no writing appeared on the surface. There were no symbols, no hidden messages, no further movement at all.Derek frowned, turning his attention toward Eric. His uncle was no longer smiling. Instead, Eric stared at the scroll as though he were looking at something impossible.Suddenly, Eric began to pace. He took two sharp steps forward, spun around, walked back, and turned again. Derek tracked his erratic movements with growing confusion."Uncle Eric?"Eric gave no answer, his breathing growing heavier as he continued back and forth. "No," he muttered, stopping dead in his tracks. "No, no, no."Derek's eyes narrowed.Eric ran both hands through his hair, his composure completely shattering. "This cannot just be a waste," he whispered, breaking into a frantic pace once more. "This can't be a waste."Derek

Uncle Eric stood motionless before the blank stone. For several long seconds, he didn't move a muscle, staring fixedly at the point where his nephew had vanished. Slowly, the frantic mask of excitement melted away, replaced by a dark, simmering rage.Reaching onto the table, he snatched a handkerchief and dabbed at the dark smear of blood on the corner of his lip. His hands trembled violently as he wiped another trickle from his ear before hurling the stained cloth back onto the wooden surface."Why?" he growled, his voice low and raspy. "Why did the portal reject me? After all these years?" He began to pace, his heavy footsteps breaking the quiet room. "I spent years searching for this. I studied books nobody else even knew existed, trying to understand the Morrison bloodline. I hunted for records. I deciphered ancient writings. I bled years of my life just discovering the secret of this portal, only for it to reject me?" He gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening into a hard angle. "T

Derek immediately noticed the fear etched into everyone's faces. The moment the woman's voice echoed across the strange landscape, the surrounding people seemed to freeze in place. Slaves dropped their heads lower toward the dirt, while the men marching with javelins went rigid. Nobody spoke, and nobody dared to move an inch. Derek scanned the crowd, trying to make sense of the sudden dread before he finally saw her. Walking slowly through the gathered people, she came to a halt directly in front of him. Her name was Zora. For years, she had served as the right-hand woman of the Mistress of the Portal. More than just a servant or a standard guard, she was the trusted enforcer tasked with carrying out the Mistress's orders without hesitation. Her reputation alone was enough to silence an entire room. Zora possessed a striking beauty, but it carried an inherent intimidation. Long dark hair framed sharp features, and her cold, watchful eyes seemed to catch every slight movement. There

For several agonizing seconds, nobody moved. Zora lay on the ground, her body completely still after being thrown backward by Derek's force. The silence hanging over the field felt almost unbearable.Then her fingers twitched. Slowly, Zora pressed one hand into the dirt and pushed herself up. Her movements were not rushed; they were deliberate, controlled, and frighteningly calm, but anyone watching could see the fury mounting inside her. Her fingers curled into a tight fist as she pushed higher, heavy breaths escaping her nose. She clenched her other hand so hard the dark veins on her arms bulged against her skin.She was angry. Pure, unfiltered rage consumed her.Zora brought one knee beneath her frame and paused. Her head hung low for a second before she slowly lifted her gaze. Her eyes locked onto Derek.He was still standing in the exact same spot. No blood. No injury. No sign of exhaustion whatsoever. He looked completely harmless, and that was what disturbed Zora the most. Ther

Lady Ravenna continued to stare at Derek without saying another word. Something about his face had caught her attention, and the longer she looked at him, the more difficult it became to dismiss the unsettling realization rising inside her.She had seen that face before. Not in person, but in a portrait many years ago.Her eyes narrowed slightly as the old memory resurfaced. A picture of a young man whose features looked remarkably similar to Derek's crossed her mind. At the time, she hadn't paid much attention to it. The portrait had belonged to her mother, who shared a long, complicated history with the man depicted in it—a man her mother had once been expected to marry.The realization hit her like a sudden bolt of clarity. Could this man be Daniel Morrison's son?She immediately pushed the thought aside, forcing herself to stay grounded. It was far too much of a leap to make based on a physical resemblance alone. Having lived for generations, Ravenna knew that appearances were eas