The motel room was quiet, wrapped in the dim glow of moonlight slipping through half-drawn curtains. Trafalgar lay sprawled across the narrow bed, arms crossed behind his head, one ankle resting casually over the other.

The Shadowlink Echo was already resting in his hand, its familiar weight grounding him. After a brief pause, he exhaled and began to imbue it with mana.

The device responded instantly.

He spoke calmly, carefully, his voice low but steady.

"I know how this might look, Caelum," he said, eyes fixed on the ceiling, "but trust me—it's exactly what you think, and I didn't do anything reckless. I was just investigating."

He paused for half a heartbeat, then continued.

"I also ran into Borin au Dvergar. And… truth be told, I've already crossed paths with the other heirs of the Eight Great Families."

A faint tension crept into his tone, subtle but present.

"In fact, I need to talk to you about something."

He cut the flow of mana.

The message was sent.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Trafalgar remained still, listening to the distant hum of the city beyond the walls, the muffled life of Carac continuing as if nothing had changed. He knew Caelum well enough to recognize the silence—not hesitation, not doubt, but immediate attention.

Then the Shadowlink Echo pulsed softly in his palm.

A faint glow spread across its surface.

Caelum had already responded.

Trafalgar's lips curved almost imperceptibly.

'Of course you did,' he thought.

Trafalgar let a thin stream of mana flow into the Shadowlink Echo, activating the reply.

Caelum's voice emerged at once—steady, familiar, unshaken.

"I already know you wouldn't do anything improper, young master." Trafalgar exhaled quietly through his nose. He wasn't sure whether to feel reassured or faintly irritated. 'That's… not exactly what I meant,' he thought.

There was an implicit tease buried in the words—Caelum clearly assuming the rumor that could have formed. Trafalgar visiting the room of a young lady. A vampire no less.

And yet Caelum also knew about Mayla. He knew where Trafalgar's loyalties truly lay.

The message continued, tone shifting from light to attentive.

"I understand that you greeted and met with them as a matter of cordiality between heirs. And something must have happened, considering you are contacting me tonight, young master."

Trafalgar's expression sobered. He imbued mana again, recording his response.

"I'll skip the unnecessary details about Borin. In short—House Dvergar is evaluating which of the two major families in the war will be more profitable to support. They intend to sell items to the winning side. They're prohibited from intervening directly, so they'll act through intermediaries. You may inform my father of this."

He paused, the mana flow wavering for half a second.

'Borin's not a bad guy,' he admitted inwardly. 'But this is a mission.'

Staying aligned with the Morgain was safer. Smarter. And in the long run… more rewarding.

Trafalgar continued, his voice lowering slightly.

"Borin drank too much and lost consciousness. Before that happened, Selendra appeared. And before I go any further—there's something I need to be clear about."

He stopped recording for a heartbeat, then resumed.

"I don't want you to tell anyone what comes next. Not even my father. Can I trust you?"

The mana faded. Silence returned.

Trafalgar stared at the ceiling, eyes unmoving. This wasn't a casual request. It wasn't even diplomacy.

It was a test.

Caelum could not lie—by design and by conviction. He had been raised for the sake of House Morgain above all else. And if he believed Trafalgar was what the family needed…

Then this answer would tell him everything.

The response didn't come immediately.

Seconds passed. Then a few more.

Trafalgar lay still, the Shadowlink Echo resting against his palm, its surface dim and inert. He didn't rush it. Caelum never answered lightly—not when it mattered. Silence, in his case, meant thought.

Finally, a soft glow pulsed through the artifact.

Mana stirred.

Caelum's voice emerged, steady and unmistakably composed.

"I will send a report regarding the Dvergar to your father," Caelum said. "What you tell me now will remain between us. I will not inform Lord Valttair, nor anyone else, unless you explicitly order me to do so. I will treat this as a direct command from you, young master."

The words settled heavily in the quiet room.

Trafalgar closed his eyes.

'Good,' he thought.

That was all he needed.

He exhaled slowly, then imbued mana into the Echo once more.

"Selendra has been observing me since the last Council," Trafalgar said, his voice low but controlled. "She knows things about me. About my talent." He paused, choosing each word carefully. "Do not take action. She is the only one who knows, and she cannot tell anyone."

A brief silence.

"I signed a Blood Contract with her," he continued. "It binds her completely. She cannot speak of it, directly or indirectly. And no—I didn't do anything reckless. Everything was to my advantage. I gained far more than I gave."

That much was true.

He let the Echo dim for a heartbeat, then activated it again.

"I learned something about the future of the war," Trafalgar said. "This… is valuable information."

The reply came slower this time.

When Caelum spoke again, there was a subtle shift in his tone—not alarm, but gravity.

"Understood, young master," Caelum said. "As I stated before, I trust you. That said… what you did was imprudent. Still, I will accept your judgment. Please tell me this information."

Trafalgar didn't bristle. He had expected that response. Caelum wasn't a sycophant—he was an advisor.

"Selendra's class is Blood Oracle," Trafalgar said. "It's unique. She can partially read the status of others. And more importantly—she can perceive possible future outcomes. Not certainties. Branches we should say."

He swallowed once before continuing.

"The future she saw involves me. I'm present in a battle. And it's not minor."

The Echo went quiet.

Longer this time.

Trafalgar stared at the ceiling, tracing faint cracks in the plaster with his eyes. He could almost picture Caelum where he was—standing still, hands folded, gaze distant as he reconstructed the implications piece by piece.

At last, Caelum spoke again.

"I was not aware that House Nocthar possessed a class of that nature," he said. "Though… given certain movements in recent years, it does align. This is indeed valuable information." A pause. "As promised, I will not inform your father."

Trafalgar felt a subtle tension ease from his chest.

"And the battle?" Caelum continued. "At present, I see no scenario in which you would be involved. Lord Valttair has no intention of intervening directly in this war. That could change only if House Morgain itself were affected."

He stopped briefly.

"Please describe the vision in detail."

Trafalgar drew in a slow breath.

"I'm standing in the middle of it," he said. "After everything has already happened. Bodies everywhere. Humans. Elves. Beastman. Lycans. Monsters." His fingers tightened slightly against the Echo. "Void creatures as well."

Another pause.

"There's blue fire," he added. "Not red. It doesn't fade. It lingers there without going out, without being extinguished."

That was all.

The Echo dimmed once more.

This time, the silence stretched long enough that Trafalgar wondered if Caelum had moved from his position at all.

When the reply finally came, Caelum's voice was calmer than Trafalgar had expected.

"As you said earlier, young master," Caelum replied, "this is a possibility. Not a fixed outcome. The future is malleable."

A faint emphasis followed.

"The destiny you were shown can be changed. That is what we will attempt to do—together."

Trafalgar listened intently.

"I will not inform Lord Valttair," Caelum continued. "I will report only your initial findings from today. If you uncover anything further, contact me immediately. And if you find yourself in danger…" There was the faintest edge of steel beneath his words. "I will appear. Do not hesitate."

The glow of the Echo softened.

"For now," Caelum concluded, "get some rest, young master."

The message ended.

Trafalgar let the mana drain from the artifact. The Shadowlink Echo dissolved into motes of light, dispersing into the air until his hand was empty once more.

He lay there in silence, staring at the dark ceiling.

'The future can be changed,' he repeated internally.

That was Caelum's belief.

But another voice echoed in his mind—calm, distant, absolute.

Your destiny is already written.

The Veiled Woman's words didn't fade with time. If anything, they had only grown heavier.

Trafalgar let out a quiet breath that almost sounded like a laugh—but no sound came.

He reached up, pulling the thin blanket over himself, then turned onto his side. With a simple gesture, he extinguished the mana lamp beside the bed.

Darkness claimed the room.

Moonlight filtered faintly through the curtains, tracing pale lines across the floor.

Tomorrow, he would begin gathering information from within the war itself.

But for now…

Sleep took him.

And the blue fire burned on, somewhere in a future that had not yet decided whether it would come to pass.

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