March 20. Paris sat with Ostos and Elyu, father and sons sharing one table. The air felt heavy, like rain trapped in a sealed jar. Their faces were still as a pond with no ripple.

“This omen… it may be the Empire’s drowning prelude.” Dark lines cut across Ostos’s brow. Worry, rare and raw, colored his eyes.

Elyu tried to argue. The words rose, then broke like foam. Under calamities so eerie, so precise, he fell silent. That silence stretched, cold as night wind.

Paris’s right hand trembled. Relief and grief tangled on his face. “I don’t know how it hit. Heaven turned strange. Shadows swallowed the sun. Gales howled. Thunder rolled. The earth split. The sea ran wild. Any one of those could wipe a city clean.

But Captain Hibo stepped in on time. If not, this would’ve gone far worse. The Royal Capital might’ve fallen in one breath…

This felt wrong. Every storm charged straight for the Royal Capital. That’s no accident. That winding crack, snaking yet pointing at the palace’s crown, says enough.”

Elyu and Ostos nodded together. Then Ostos recalled a piece. “Remember what Haidra reported, after the tsunami at Sia City? She stabbed the wave and broke it apart.”

“Hm? Is there a problem, Father?” Elyu was a king, yet the honorific slipped out in front of Ostos.

Paris caught a different scent. His brow locked tight, like frost along a blade.

“I’ve been combing the Collapse Point notes from the Elven Queen. One line is clear. No matter the place, time, or condition, natural disasters bear no Collapse Point.

Collapse Points are the world, and the world is Collapse Points. If you shatter nature’s Collapse Point, you break the world itself.

Only magical constructs carry Collapse Points. That rule is iron.” Ostos pinched his beard, eyes sharp as flint.

“Is that so? Father, could you have misread it? Or maybe the Wind Sprite didn’t know?

Didn’t Haidra report that wind sprites lose power hard in extreme weather?

In that case, how would they sweep a Collapse Point?” Paris asked, doubt curling like smoke.

Elyu sank into thought. After a beat, worry rose, heavy as storm-water. “Then maybe…

This event and the last share one source. A magical force masquerading as a natural disaster.

Not a pure storm. Haidra’s report also said Medith’s group came in on foot, their mana useless.

I guess it started as a true storm. But when the tsunami rose, it turned into a magical storm. So Medith and Sais, though weakened, weren’t cut off from using power.

Which means…”

“Which means someone rode a natural storm to raise the tsunami at Sia City, then dressed it as perfect nature. No one expects human hands to twist heaven’s spine…

I once thought Captain Hibo’s star-calling was the human limit.

Until… Medith’s blood moon descended.” Ostos’s eyes flashed with dread. That dread swept over both brothers like a shadow.

Elyu went pale. Paris went ashen, fingers locking white.

“Until we know more, don’t tell anyone. Not a word. This is too terrifying…” Paris reached out. His hand cinched tight around the cup, like a man clinging to driftwood.

Ostos nodded. Elyu watched Paris’s knuckles tense. His own worry darkened, rising like tide under a black moon.

…

“Delaia, what about Godspear City? Can Mure be pulled over?” Elyu asked, impatience biting like sleet.

Delaia’s brow furrowed, lines deep as plow grooves. “By courier pigeon, the message should’ve reached the city long ago. Two months have passed. No reply. I suspect Commander Mure never got it.

Half a month ago, I sent people to confirm. By the route, they should arrive the day after tomorrow.”

“The day after tomorrow…” Elyu paused, then spoke with steel. “Recall every vassal lord from the near isles. Have each bring a third of their house’s elite. Tell them it’s to stabilize the Royal Capital.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Why the rush? What’s about to break?” Delaia caught the scent of smoke before flame. His lids twitched, a drumbeat under skin.

Elyu stood with his back to him. He didn’t answer. “Tianensai’s wounds should be light. Just drained. Give him the best royal physicians, the strongest tonics. Fetch Frostbite from the vault. Fit it to him.

Pull every elite under Tianensai. Strip his sector if you must. Return them after a few days.

Make every noble in the city move. It’s time to spend their power.

No more questions. Finish within a day.” Elyu’s voice left no gap. Words fast, urgent, like orders rehearsed in the mind’s storm.

Delaia’s heart stalled for a beat. His private guess swelled, near certain now.

“Then… shall I call the last court officer as well?” Delaia tested the ground.

Elyu nodded. “Let him appear. This is no common hour. No matter what comes, I want you fighting beside me to the end.

Delaia.”

Delaia stiffened. Cold sweat pricked. After a moment, he bowed in voice. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

He left at a quick stride. His figure faded into the hall’s hush. Elyu turned—and found Paris. Paris watched Delaia go, face dark as thunderhead. He saw Elyu, and the storm in him eased. A smile broke through. He strode over fast…