The Forest of Eternal Night had always been cold—deathly cold. But now, the air shimmered with heat. The frost on the trees melted, dripping steadily onto the scorched ground. The temperature had risen sharply, a direct result of David unleashing his domain. Flames still flickered in the distance, casting long, dancing shadows across the dark woods.
Around William, the soldiers were cheering. Their roars echoed through the trees, filled with pride and triumph. The spirit beasts were dead. Victory was theirs.
But William stood still.
He wasn't celebrating. His gaze was fixed, but unfocused. His mind was far away—lost in a memory. Not a memory from this life, but from the one before. From the world where he was just a reader, flipping through the pages of a novel. This novel.
And in that novel, the beasts had attacked—just like now. But something was different. There had been no mention of this.
On the edge of the battlefield, half-buried beneath the blackened earth, was a mark. A snake coiled tightly around a skull.
William's eyes sharpened.
The dark elves.
He remembered that crest clearly. It belonged to them. In the novel, they had been introduced much later—long after this point. But here it was, their mark, in plain sight. So they were already moving... already interfering with the human continent. All this just to get the Heart of Flame.
It hadn't been in the story. The book never revealed they were behind the spirit beast attack.
Which means their schemes began far earlier than anyone thought. Before they even appeared on the stage.
A small smile crept across William's lips.
"Well," he whispered to himself, eyes gleaming with quiet amusement, "it seems I've got some competition."
Far from the burning forest, in the peaceful south of the empire, a different kind of chaos was unfolding.
On the southern edge of the empire, chaos stirred in Anjou County.
The manor was a storm of motion. Servants rushed through halls, bumping into one another as they scrambled to prepare. Some decorated the grand entrance with silk and flowers, others carried crates of wine and rare delicacies. Orders flew through the air like arrows on a battlefield.
In his study, Count Anjou stood abruptly, knocking over his inkwell and staining the polished desk. Ink pooled across documents, but he didn't seem to notice. Sweat trickled down his forehead, and the green strands of his beard shimmered with essence, glowing faintly in the dim light.
He clutched a letter tightly in his left hand. The air around him pulsed with raw life. Small flowers and weeds began sprouting across the table, climbing over the bookshelves, blooming wherever his essence touched.
A messenger stood before him, nervously eyeing the sudden growth.
"Please control your essence, my lord," the messenger said carefully.
"Why didn't anyone inform me earlier that Lord Medici is coming to the south?" Count Anjou muttered, his voice sharp with urgency. "We barely have time to prepare for his welcome."
The messenger hesitated, then added, "Did I mention, my lord, that the young master Medici is coming as well?"
"Who?" Count Anjou raised an eyebrow. "The eldest?"
"No, my lord. The youngest. William de Medici."
Silence fell for a heartbeat. Then, a smile bloomed across the Count's face. His essence surged—and in moments, the entire study was overtaken by flowers. Vines crept up the walls. Buds opened in vibrant color. His office had become a living garden.
"Why did no one tell me the crowned prodigy is coming?" he exclaimed.
The grand hall buzzed with motion as servants hurried about with trays, linens, and fresh bouquets. Amid the flurry of movement, a tall man in a pristine black coat stood near the archway—his silver badge marking him as the head butler of Anjou County.
His sharp gaze swept over the hall before settling on a young servant with jet-black hair streaked with faint purple. The youth moved silently, balancing a silver tray and folded towels with practiced grace.
"Hey, newcomer," the head butler called, his voice smooth but commanding. "Follow me."
The servant paused mid-step. Without a word, he carefully set the items down on a nearby table and fell into step behind the older man.
As the two disappeared around the corner, soft murmurs rose among the other servants.
"I still can't believe it," one whispered, eyes wide. "He's good at every chore they throw at him."
Another leaned in, glancing around. "He only joined last week, but it's like he already knows every task by instinct…"
Elsewhere in the manor, in a sunlit chamber adorned with velvet drapes and polished mirrors, a young girl sat at her vanity. She was about William's age, her posture graceful, her gaze thoughtful.
A middle-aged woman stood behind her, gently combing her long, brown hair.
Through the open window, the girl could see the commotion in the courtyard. Servants hurried back and forth, their arms full of preparations.
"Nanny," she asked, "why is everyone in such a rush today?"
The woman smiled softly, brushing another strand. "Because Lord Medici is coming to visit Anjou County."
"You mean one of the three great lords from the capital?" the girl asked with wide eyes.
"Yes, my lady," the nanny replied warmly. "And he's bringing someone very special with him—the genius of the millennium."
"The boy who broke through at the age of two?" she whispered.
The nanny nodded, her eyes filled with gentle affection. "Yes, that very boy. William de Medici."
She paused for a moment, then glanced at the mirror. The girl's sparkling green eyes met her own reflection. The nanny's voice softened further.
"I hope you become close friends with him."
The girl looked down at the small hair clip she held in her hand, gripping it tightly. Then, without a word, she gave a small, quiet nod.
The girl looked at her reflection in the mirror, her green eyes thoughtful. William de Medici… she mused inwardly. I wonder what kind of person he really is.
As the young lady pondered quietly in her room, the source of her curiosity was nearing—rattling along in a carriage surrounded by golden fields.
The carriage rumbled along a winding dirt road, flanked on both sides by endless fields of green and gold. The sun was high, its warmth filling the air with the scent of grain and wildflowers.
Suddenly, a dramatic beep came from the inside the carriage.
[WHEN WILL WE REACH ANJOU COUNTY? I'M DYING OF BOREDOM!]
The glowing text sprawled across the translucent screen, followed by an exaggerated sigh that crackled through the carriage.
William leaned back with a soft chuckle, his gaze lingering on the landscape beyond.
"Anjou County is at the far southern end of the empire, dear," he replied, resting his hand on the armrest. "It will take time."
He paused, then added with a smirk, "But aren't you excited to see our best friend waiting for us there?"
Wiz's screen flickered, and a grin appeared, large and bold.
[HA HA HA HA! I CAN WAIT!]
The sound of his mechanical laughter filled the carriage, infectious and bright.
The journey continued, long and unhurried. Days blurred into nights, and the weeks passed like pages in a windblown book.
At last, after nearly a month on the road, the scenery began to change. The land opened into vast plains—gentle hills rolled across the horizon, clothed in golden wheat, ripe orchards, and flowering vineyards.
They had entered the South, known across the empire as its breadbasket, the fertile heart that fed millions.
Before them stretched Anjou County, one of the two noble territories that ruled this region, the other being the Cerchi family lands.
Flags bearing the sigil of House Anjou fluttered from the stone pillars that marked the county's border—green banners embroidered with silver ivy.
As the carriage crossed through, the air grew richer, filled with the scent of ripe harvest and a touch of magic.
Wiz's screen glowed again, his tone uncharacteristically mellow.
[So this is Anjou…]
Then, after a beat—
[I like it already.]