Jaenor jerked awake with sudden violence, his body snapping upright before his mind had fully processed the transition from dream to consciousness.

The top of his skull connected with something solid with a sharp crack that sent pain shooting through his head and elicited a startled yelp from whoever had been leaning over him.

“Ow!”

Through the haze of disorientation and lingering dream fragments, he found himself staring into familiar violet eyes that were now watering from the impact.

Rena.

He recognized her face instantly.

Rena sat beside his bed, one hand pressed to her forehead where his skull had struck her, but her expression held nothing but overwhelming relief.

He looked around quickly, checking for his surroundings, and he touched his face and chest to see if he was still alive and the darkness around wasn’t present.

It was all a dream, which he found hard to believe.

Then he looked at her.

The sight of her—real, solid, unmistakably present—cut through his confusion like a blade through silk. This wasn’t the stone chamber from his dream, nor the cozy cabin his subconscious had conjured.

He was in what appeared to be an infirmary within Berdshire Fortress, surrounded by the practical stone walls and functional furnishings that spoke of military efficiency rather than universal mystery.

But before he could fully process his surroundings, Rena’s eyes filled with tears that began streaming down her cheeks in rivers of pure emotion.

“Jaenor!!” she yelped as she threw herself at him.

“I thought you were dead,” she sobbed, her voice breaking on every word.

“When Baren brought you back, you were so still, so pale… The healers said they didn’t know if you would wake up. I’m so glad you’re alive, Jaenor. So glad.”

“Where have you been? All this time I thought you were dead. I have missed you tremendously.”

Before he could respond, the door to the infirmary burst open and familiar figures poured through.

Baren’s broad shoulders filled the doorway first, his golden-flecked eyes bright with relief, followed closely by Taeryn, whose usually composed demeanor cracked into a grin of pure joy.

“About time, you lazy bastard,” Baren said, his gruff voice unable to hide the emotion beneath. “We were starting to think you’d decided to sleep through the victory celebration.”

Behind them came two more figures that made Jaenor’s heart leap with recognition.

Darian, his black armor exchanged for simple traveling clothes, but his presence still radiating that familiar aura of controlled strength.

And Morgana, her blue eyes, similar to his, scanning him with the critical gaze of someone assessing both physical and spiritual well-being.

“Jaenor,” Taeryn breathed, moving to clasp his friend’s shoulder with a grip that was probably tighter than necessary.

“I’m glad, brother. I’m glad that you are alive,” Taeryn choked back his tears.

Baren too; he patted Taeryn’s back.

They all mourned him, living in grief all these months, without knowing that their friend was alive.

Now that he was standing before them, alive and well, they couldn’t hold back.

When they brought back Jaenor, they had a lot of questions, but Baren answered them patiently, telling them about how Jaenor was living by the seaside and his partner Odessa.

Though they asked where she was, Baren said that he didn’t know. He was also unaware of her origins.

Morgana had her doubts, but they will have to wait.

Taeryn hugged Jaenor; so did Baren and Rena.

They stayed like that for a minute, their emotions coming out. From the moment they left the village, their lives had changed drastically, and losing either one of them would be devastating. But for now, they were grateful to have Jaenor back safe and sound.

Taeryn moved back and said, “You magnificent fool, what did you do out there? The entire town was talking about angels and demons and the crater where the market square used to be…”

The reunion that followed was a tangle of overlapping conversations, and the kind of chaotic joy that comes when people who care deeply about each other are reunited after believing the worst had occurred.

All four of his companions—Rena, Baren, Taeryn, and even the normally reserved Darian—seemed determined to verify through touch that he was truly present and whole.

But Jaenor noticed that Morgana remained somewhat apart from the celebration, her expression thoughtful and troubled.

It was hard for her to believe how Jaenor ended up in a coastal city from the Gorge, which she saw crumble down right before her eyes.

She thought he was buried under the rubble. But he didn’t.

Someone saved him.

But who was it?

And this mysterious woman, Odessa, who was she? Why did she leave?

They checked the entire premises but they didn’t find her anywhere.

After a few minutes of watching the emotional reunion, she caught Darian’s eye and nodded toward the door.

The black knight understood immediately, and both of them slipped out of the room, leaving the four friends to their reunion.

–

In the hallway beyond the infirmary, Morgana’s composed facade fell away to reveal the deep concern that had been eating at her since the supernatural disturbances from town had reached her senses.

“Did you sense the two figures back at the square?” she asked Darian quietly, her voice pitched low to avoid being overheard by passing soldiers.

“I could feel two massive, powerful beings present at the town square.”

“I did,” he replied grimly.

“The power radiating from them was… significant. Unlike anything I’ve encountered before.”

Morgana nodded, her blue eyes distant with memory and recognition.

“Those were Lords of Sins; I’m certain of it.”

“I felt like they were fighting; those two forces were in conflict with each other. I could see it from far.”

Darian had a complex expression on his face; he felt the same too, but he had an odd feeling when thinking about the other one, the female sin.

Morgana sighed. “The fact that they appeared after all these years means things are taking a turn for a potentially catastrophic direction. And them being right here where the chosen ones are present means that they are aware of those children.”

She shook her head. “This is far worse than we anticipated.”

Darian’s expression grew even more serious. “Will you send word to the Mother Superior?”

“I have to,” Morgana replied without hesitation.

“After all, these aren’t simple dark creatures we’re dealing with. The Lords of Sins are eternal forces, entities that existed before the current age of the world began. If they’re taking direct action instead of working through proxies…”

Her words trailed off as heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor.

General Kaider appeared around the corner, his weathered face bearing the expression of a man dealing with far too many crises at once.

After the battle was over, he practically fell to his knees, thanking Morgana and her young companions. Right now, she was the most respectable and trustworthy candidate to him.

“Lady Morgana,” he called as he approached them.

“We have news that the Coven of Ladraellas is approaching the fortress. Do you know anything about that?”

Morgana’s eyebrows rose in genuine surprise.

“The Ladraellas? Here? No, I have no knowledge of why they would be coming to Berdshire.” She exchanged a meaningful glance with Darian.

“When are they expected to arrive?”

“Within the next few days, according to our scouts,” Kaider replied.

“They’re traveling in force—at least a dozen senior witches and twice that number in apprentices and support staff.”

After a few more minutes of speculation and information exchange, Kaider excused himself to deal with the logistical nightmares of housing and feeding a large contingent of powerful witches on short notice.

When they were alone again, Darian turned to Morgana with obvious concern. “What should we do? If the Sins are active and now the Ladraellas are involved…”

Morgana was quiet for a long moment, her mind working through implications and possibilities. When she finally spoke, her voice carried the weight of difficult decisions.

“We need to move,” she said simply. “I know the Mother Supreme ordered me to keep the three Chosen here at the fortress to help them solidify their roles as regional protectors. But I can’t do it, Darian. Not with everything that’s happening.”

“I can’t follow those orders now. Not with the Coven mobilizing, and certainly not with Jaenor in his current state.”

Morgana was afraid that the witches who were coming here might learn about Jaenor after he had turned into something far more than she had predicted. She could practically see the Origin energy leaking out of him when she saw him earlier. Her protection spell, which had been put on him to suppress, was long gone, and he had even formed an Origin core, which was quite a difficult task even for the young woman.

She got that all just from a glimpse at him, and if they were to discover his secrets, then she couldn’t even imagine what they would do to him.

A pained expression crossed Morgana’s face. She had already failed once in protecting Jaenor, and she didn’t want to repeat such a thing.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep