The courtyard felt heavier, as though the air itself bent toward him.

Khael Corzedar stood at the center of their gazes.

His hair had grown long, dark as midnight, falling in uneven strands that framed a face sharpened by time. Slightly tousled, untamed, it gave him the air of someone who had weathered storms far beyond their reach. And yet, the change that struck them most wasn't the hair, or even the matured angles of his jawline.

It was his eyes.

Calm. Friendly. A faint, approachable smile softened his features. But behind those eyes—there was something else now. A weight. A depth. Wisdom carved by fire and silence.

The robe he wore was still the same in essence: dark, with subtle green trim woven like veins of emerald. But its fabric shimmered faintly with a mystic aura, runes dancing at the hem as if alive. It wasn't just clothing anymore, it was a mantle of someone who had walked between eras.

And his arms

Scaled textures climbed higher than before, curling with complexity, glowing faintly in the light. They weren't crude marks of a curse anymore. They were refined. Controlled. A dragon's growth etched into flesh.

The sight silenced them further, awe settling into their bones.

Kaen swallowed hard, his fists trembling.

"He… he really looks like someone from another world…"

Rael's smirk faltered as his eyes narrowed.

"…No. He looks like someone who could stand above it."

Shigeo let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, muttering, though softer this time.

"What a complicated world… he came back even greater than I calculated."

Saya's lips trembled into a grin as she whispered through tears.

"Khael… you're really here…"

Kenji broke the silence with a bark of laughter, though even he couldn't mask the awe in his tone.

"Look at him! Damn bastard disappeared for three years and comes back looking like that?! He's a monster now!"

And in the middle of their awe, Khael just stood there, his smile unchanged, lighthearted even under the weight of their stares.

He raised one hand, giving a small wave, like nothing had changed.

"Missed me?"

For a heartbeat, nobody breathed. Then, Ceyla's storm cracked. Her face flushed crimson as she realized she was still clinging to him, arms wrapped tight around his waist. She shoved him back so quickly that lightning snapped across the ground.

"Y-you bastard! Don't act like nothing happened after vanishing for three years!!"

Khael only chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. His smile was the same gentle, kind, maddening. He tilted his head slightly at her.

"You could hug me one more time, you know. I wouldn't mind."

Her storm flared. "YOU—!" she roared, fists sparking, ready to swing at him.

From behind, a voice cut in, sly and sing-song. Kaya leaned lazily against the courtyard pillar, arms crossed, grin wide.

"Ohhh… Ceylaaa. So bold. Hugging him before any of us could say hi?"

Ceyla spun, eyes blazing. "K-Kaya!! Shut your mouth!!"

Lira, standing just beside Kaya, pressed her fingers to her lips, trying—and failing—to stifle a laugh. A tiny, melodic chuckle slipped through. Her usually composed face glimmered with amusement.

Ceyla stomped her foot, sparks jumping. "I swear—!"

Khael lifted his hand slightly, palm open in peace, his voice soft.

"It's fine, really. I… missed that side of you, too."

The storm in her chest rattled. For a second, her breath caught, but she tore her gaze away, mumbling,

"Y-you're still an idiot."

Kaen stomped forward then, jabbing his finger straight at Khael's chest. His grin was wide, but his voice was sharp with unfiltered emotion.

"You bastard!! Disappearing like that and leaving us behind?! Do you have any idea how hard I trained just to stand next to your damn statue?!"

Khael blinked at him, then laughed—an easy, disarming laugh that hadn't changed since the first day they met.

"Good. That's what I wanted to hear."

Kaen froze, fist still raised, his heart hammering against his ribs. He looked away, muttering under his breath.

"Tch… don't act cool just 'cause you came back looking handsome or whatever…"

Rael, arms crossed at the edge of the group, finally spoke. His eyes were steady, sharp as blades, though his tone carried its usual mockery.

"Hmph. You return and already act like the center of the world. Don't think I'll let you walk past me so easily, Dragon Knight."

Khael met his gaze, calm but unwavering.

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Rael."

For a moment, tension sparked between them rivalry burning in silence.

Then Saya, tears still streaming down her cheeks, broke it with a shout.

"Stop glaring at him, Rael!! He just got back!!"

Kenji burst into laughter, his arm slinging over Shigeo's stiff shoulders.

"Hah! Look at this chaos! Three years gone and he steps back like he never left. Damn, Khael, you're unbelievable."

Shigeo exhaled, adjusting his dress, voice flat but betraying relief in the faint curve of his lips.

"…What a complicated world."

And in the center of it all, Khael just stood calm, smiling, lighthearted as ever. Yet his presence was deeper, heavier, like a tide waiting to rise.

Meanwhile, far from the courtyard's warmth, another gathering took place.

Lucere sat at the head of a stone chamber, his posture relaxed, his presence suffocating. A faint smirk lingered on his lips as shadows crawled along the walls. Around him sat the Hollow Nine—the secret cult that thrived beneath history and Shinrei law.

The traitors. The manipulators. The watchers.

One leaned forward, orange hair cascading past his brow, fingers laced together as if praying. His eyes, however, spoke only of calculation.

Beside him lounged a younger man with slicked-back white hair, a crooked smile etched on his face as he flipped a knife between his fingers.

Opposite them, a woman with green hair traced the serpent tattoo that slithered up her neck. She never blinked, her stare as unyielding as stone.

Behind her, a broad-shouldered man turned lazily, blue hair spilling across his back to reveal a massive sigil inked onto his skin: the Black Whale.

Further along the circle, a twitchy man with clown paint let his fingers dance in the air, each tug pulling faint glimmers of thread puppet strings embedded deep into his flesh.

Then came the beast: a man with wild yellow hair, body carved with scars that ran across his chest and jawline. His feral eyes gleamed faintly in the dark hungry. Bakuza.

In the shadows, cross-legged and silent, sat a bald man, his skin charred and warped from fire long past. He said nothing, his silence heavier than words.

Next to him, a pale man with long black hair bangs covering most of his face methodically sharpened a blade. The steel hissed, pulsing faintly with cursed energy.

And finally at the center of them all

Lucere.

A man with pink wolf-cut hair sat calmly, legs crossed like a sovereign upon his throne of stone. His fingers brushed the cold ground, his eyes glowing faintly in the dark.

Orange. Red. Black.

The chamber bent around him. He was the sun of their twisted universe.

Lucere's smirk widened.

"How are the fragments?"

The pale swordsman paused in his sharpening, voice low.

"I've secured one, Master Lucere."

Lucere tilted his head, amused.

"That's good…" He leaned forward, his smile sharp as a blade. "The next destination is that village. And you already know what to do… Bakuza."

Bakuza's scars twisted as his grin split wide, feral.

"Yes, Master."

The Hollow Nine bowed their heads as the shadows thickened, the air vibrating with intent.

War was already moving.

To be continue

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