Chapter 500: Fate Was Watching

After fully recovering and regaining his strength, Galen finally decided to tell Serah the truth about what had truly happened during his disappearance—the reality behind his captivity, his near-death experience, and how her dangerously unhinged yet oddly dependable lover, Marcus, had saved him. He told her everything—from the moment he was captured to discovering that the man behind his abduction was none other than the husband of the woman their father and King Valemir, had ordered executed months prior.

When those words left Galen’s mouth, Serah fell silent. The revelation struck deep. She realized then that her brother’s kidnapping had not been random—it had been a revenge plot. A desperate act from a man consumed by grief. Serah couldn’t entirely blame him; after all, he had lost his wife and their unborn child in the same moment. Pain like that could twist anyone’s soul. In a way, she could almost understand why he did it. Yet, knowing that the same man had been a heartless drug lord, poisoning lives and selling his vile creations to merchants who destroyed countless families, that sympathy burned away, leaving only hatred and disgust.

Days passed after Galen’s recovery, and Serah began noticing something different about him. Her brother, once carefree and often lazy when it came to his knightly duties, was now a different man. His eyes carried a new weight—a spark of determination she had never seen before. He no longer asked for breaks or shirked responsibility. Instead, he was training day and night, throwing himself into battle practice, sword drills, and myst enhancement exercises with a focus that could only come from someone who had truly stared death in the face.

Serah didn’t know what had changed him so deeply, but she was grateful nonetheless. Seeing him this determined filled her with pride and relief. If this new drive meant her brother would be safer—stronger—then she welcomed it. For too long she had worried that Galen’s easygoing nature would someday get him killed.

Meanwhile, Galen had begun his own quiet pursuit. When Marcus had vanished after saving him, his final words had burned into Galen’s memory: “If you want to grow stronger, go to the Nether Realm.” Those words haunted him until he finally decided to dig deeper.

He spent hours—sometimes entire nights—in the royal archives, scouring through ancient tomes and forbidden scrolls until he found fragments of information about that place. The Nether Realm was mentioned sparsely, always in fearful tones and hushed warnings. It was said to be a domain shunned by even the bravest knights—a world far worse than the Demon Realm itself. While the Demon Realm at least had some established records and treaties between worlds, the Nether Realm was labeled unreachable, a land of chaos and death.

The writings spoke of monstrous entities—creatures that defied natural order. Some the size of mountains, others small enough to hide in one’s shadow, all possessing intelligence and cruelty beyond imagination. They were said to feed on myst energy, devouring not only bodies but souls, leaving behind empty husks. No mortal who entered the Nether Realm had ever returned to tell their tale.

Reading about it, Galen felt his heart waver. He questioned whether he truly wanted to walk such a path. Was power really worth gambling his life for? But every time doubt crept in, he remembered Marcus standing alone against hundreds of mercenaries—fearless, untouchable—and he knew that turning back wasn’t an option anymore. He had already taken the first step.

In the months that followed, Galen trained relentlessly. He sharpened both his body and myst, pushing his limits daily. He wanted to ensure that when the day came for him to set foot in that forsaken realm, he would not walk into his death blindly. It wasn’t cowardice—it was preparation. Marcus might’ve survived a stab through the heart, but Galen knew he wasn’t Marcus. Not yet.

While Galen trained with singular focus, Serah’s days were consumed by the growing unrest across the lands. Reports of increasing demon activity flooded in—particularly of Berserker and Gaia demons wreaking havoc on the borders of Amthar. Her duties as a commander often pulled her away from home, and though the exhaustion weighed heavily on her, she endured it with stoic resolve.

Yet, what troubled her most wasn’t the rising demon attacks, but the growing tension between kingdoms. The Tempest Kingdom still remained ignorant of the two types of Blood Demons and the four additional Sync-class species that she had learned from Marcus. Serah had no direct ties to them, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that keeping such information from them was a dangerous gamble.

Secretly, she had begun reaching out—sending coded letters, establishing discreet channels—to try and warn them. Every attempt was risky, done without her father’s knowledge. If discovered, it would be seen as treason. But she didn’t care. Serah believed that knowledge was the first defense, and if the Tempest Kingdom fell due to ignorance, then Amthar’s safety would crumble soon after.

And so, as weeks turned into months, both siblings walked separate but equally perilous paths—Galen chasing the strength to face the horrors of the Nether Realm, and Serah defying royal law to preserve the balance of the realm. Neither knew what awaited them ahead, but fate, as always, was already watching—quietly setting the stage for what was to come.

***

Two years had passed since Serah had thrown herself fully into her royal duties, and in that time, she had achieved more than anyone could have expected. Her name was whispered among nobles and soldiers alike, her leadership praised, her discipline admired. But behind the flawless image of a dutiful princess and commander lay a woman who had sacrificed too much—freedom, love, and even peace of mind.

She had accomplished great things for her kingdom and herself, yet the void within her only grew wider. One of her greatest personal triumphs, though hidden in secrecy, had been successfully establishing contact with the Tempest Kingdom. Serah had managed to pass on vital information regarding the demons, including the truths about the Blood Demons and the additional Sync-class species.

It had been a dangerous move, a gamble that could have easily cost her her title or her life. But Queen Lucy Rature of Tempest had personally sworn to keep Serah’s involvement hidden. The queen had assured her that her name would never reach the ears of either the Solara or Crescent Kingdoms, ensuring Serah’s safety and maintaining delicate political balance. That oath of silence gave Serah a temporary sense of relief. For once, she felt she had done something meaningful—not as a princess, but as a protector of humanity.

Yet, even with that peace of mind, restlessness gnawed at her heart. The life of endless duties and formalities—the cages of royalty—were closing tighter around her. She had always endured it with grace, but now, she felt suffocated. The routine of diplomacy, training, and meetings had become a dull echo in her soul.

She needed to breathe again.

For months, she had been plotting subtle ways to slip out—just as she had done two years ago—but this time it was far trickier. Her responsibilities had doubled; her absence would be noticed immediately. But the fire inside her refused to die down. She would find a way, even if it meant bending the rules of the crown once more.

That evening, Serah sat in her room, lounging on one of the plush couches draped in scarlet fabric. The chamber was dimly lit, the glow of candles dancing across the shelves and the golden frames on her walls. Her head was leaned back against the couch, legs elegantly crossed, one arm covering her eyes while the other dangled lazily to her side, a half-filled glass of wine swinging lightly between her fingers.

Her thoughts were heavy, drifting between duty and desire, until a knock broke the silence.

She groaned faintly and lifted her arm just enough to glance toward the door. Before she could respond, it creaked open—and there he was.

Galen walked in with that usual swagger of his, the kind that screamed confidence mixed with mischief. His silver hair caught the candlelight, and the smirk on his lips told her that he had come uninvited, as usual.

Seeing him, Serah sighed and dropped her arm back over her face. “What do you want?” she muttered.

“Ugh.” Galen made a disgusted face as he approached. “What’s with that tone? You sound like you just swallowed a frog.”

“Not in the mood, Galen,” Serah replied dryly, her voice carrying fatigue instead of her usual sharp wit.

The tone alone made Galen pause. He tilted his head slightly, studying her with genuine curiosity. His sister rarely sounded so… defeated.

“What’s got you all worked up, Sis?” he asked, plopping down on the couch opposite hers. “You’re clearly off-duty right now. Don’t tell me it’s work—you’re supposed to be resting.”

There was a long pause before Serah finally exhaled, setting her glass down on the nearby table. She straightened up, brushing a few loose strands of hair from her face as she looked at him with tired eyes.

“You’re right,” she said quietly. “I shouldn’t be this drained, but I can’t help it. I’m… tired of this endless cycle, Galen. Working, leading, protecting—doing everything for the kingdom while I can’t even breathe or chase after what I want.”

Galen watched her closely, then a faint grin tugged at his lips. “You know,” he said teasingly, “if you want to go and be with your sweet Marcus, you can. Nobody’s stopping you.”

Serah immediately gave him a sharp side-eye. “I never said that.”

“You don’t have to,” Galen chuckled, leaning back with his arms stretched behind his head. “Come on, Serah, it’s obvious. You miss him. I can practically feel the lovesick energy from here. I’m sure even Mother noticed it.”

“Galen—”

He held up a hand dramatically. “No, no, let me finish. If you want to drop the princess act for a while and spend some time with your lover boy, do it. You’ve earned that much. Besides,” he smirked, “I’m sure he’s craving you just as much as you’re craving him.”

Serah stared at him, speechless for a brief moment, then couldn’t help the small smile that crept across her lips. She ran her fingers through her wavy crimson hair and laughed softly. “Who would’ve thought? My little brother giving me relationship advice. What a time to be alive.”

“Hey,” Galen said with mock seriousness, “we both know I’m pretty experienced when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“Experienced in sleeping with women, maybe,” Serah shot back with a teasing grin. “But advice-worthy? I’m not so sure.”

Galen chuckled, unbothered. “Fair point. Still, I mean what I said—you deserve a break.”

Serah’s expression softened as she gazed at him. For a brief moment, she saw the man he had become—matured, more focused than the boy he once was. But she also noticed something else—a flicker of seriousness in his tone that didn’t quite match the playfulness he showed on the surface.

“All right,” she said, leaning forward slightly. “Out with it. You didn’t come here just to tell me how miserable my love life is. What’s really on your mind?”

At that, Galen’s smile faded. He sat upright, clasping his hands together, his gaze steady and resolved. The air between them shifted from lighthearted to heavy in a single heartbeat.

“I’ll be going to the Nether Realm,” he said firmly. “Three days from now.”

The words hung in the air, cutting through the silence like a blade.

Serah’s amusement vanished. Her eyes widened as the weight of his words sank in. The glass in her hand trembled slightly before she set it down completely, her lips parting but no words coming out.

For a long, tense moment, neither of them spoke. The candles flickered softly, the silence deafening between them—until Serah finally whispered, “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

Galen nodded once, determination burning in his eyes.

And Serah, though she wanted to stop him, could already see it—the same fire she carried, the fire that all Magnas carried, was burning brighter thatn ever in her brother’s soul.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep