The castle was silent, wrapped in a red twilight. The voices of celebration had already faded — only the distant echo of music remained, and the glow of torches reflected on cracked stained glass. The air inside Sorriso Castle was heavy.

  In the council’s reserved chamber, Kyros José Fernandes stood at the head of the stone table. Before him, the Patriarchs of the Seasons sat in silence — men and women who had survived wars too ancient to be fooled by easy victories.

  Silvio Tiger Hand leaned against the wall, arms crossed beneath a black overcoat marked with a G on the back. He did not wear the sleeves — the fabric rested only on his shoulders, revealing arms covered in old scars. His pale skin contrasted with sharp, black, predatory eyes. Silvio never lowered his guard.

  “The second one is shameless,” Silvio said, breaking the silence. “He lies very well. No doubt the poison came from his mother. Everything ‘by the will of the Emperor.’”

  The Patriarchs exchanged discreet glances.

  “That’s how the seed of evil germinates, Kyros,” Silvio continued. “Applause, titles… and convenient silence.”

  Kyros placed his hands on the table.

  “And you, as a good friend, think I should do what?”

  “Publicly shaming him would be right,” Silvio replied bluntly. “But that would divide your family. And stain the Fernandes name.”

  The silence weighed heavily.

  “And the tenth?” one of the Patriarchs asked.

  Kyros simply nodded.

  “All right,” Silvio concluded. “You’re the leader, after all.”

  The Patriarchs remained silent.

  Silvio then placed a roll of manuscripts on the table.

  “The aberrations have returned, Kyros. The Tower of the Unfortunate appeared on this side of the continent. That should not be possible. The labyrinth was sealed years ago.”

  A murmur ran through the room.

  “Blood magic still lingers over Sorriso,” Silvio continued. “And there is something even more worrying inside that tower. Overwhelming presences. If this escalates, it won’t be like the Continental War… nor like the war of the kingdoms forty-five years ago.”

  Aurelius, Patriarch of Autumn, spoke in a grave voice:

  “It will be worse.”

  Kyros took a deep breath.

  “We lost soldiers,” he said. “But no civilians died. The South still stands. The Empire took a blow… but remains firm.”

  He raised his gaze.

  “Even so, we must prepare the next generation.”

  “I agree,” Silvio replied. “So I want to see the future of the lineage that was called a failure for fifteen years. Shall we call him? After all… Andromeda forced me to be his godfather.”

  Kyros raised an eyebrow.

  “Don’t pretend you didn’t like it, Silvio. If it were anyone else, you’d be offended.”

  Silvio kept his face neutral.

  The Patriarchs thought the same thing: these two would kill each other someday.

  “Call everyone,” Kyros said. “It’s time.”

  Lukas Fernandes walked through the corridors, his body still heavy with bandages, his expression calm. Hours earlier, the crowd had applauded him without knowing who he was. Now, silence felt more fitting.

  Each step echoed like a heart beating too slowly.

  In the outer courtyard, a female voice called out, firm and serene:

  “You shouldn’t be on your feet yet.”

  Sarya Veyrunn waited for him, leaning against a column, spear at her side, hair braided simply. Her posture was perfect. Her face impassive. Cold as steel.

  “And you should be resting too,” Lukas replied. “Or are you hunting another mission?”

  “You’re stubborn,” she said. “And determined. None of us would have endured what you endured.”

  He looked away, embarrassed.

  “You’re more determined than I am. You can tell just by looking.”

  She didn’t answer. She only tilted her head slightly.

  Inside, her heart accelerated — something minimal, contained, that no one would notice. Except Ravia, watching from a distance, attentive to breathing and muscular tension.

  Inside Lukas’s mind, Morgana whispered:

  “Tell her she’s a cutie too, chocolatinho. Fulfill the first promise…”

  “DAMNED WITCH!” Caesar exploded. “I said that contract was a mistake!”

  “A compliment never killed anyone,” Morgana teased.

  “It will lead him to ruin!”

  Lukas cleared his throat.

  “You… are… a good battle companion.”

  Sarya raised an eyebrow.

  “That’s all you can say?”

  “For now.”

  She gave a barely perceptible smile.

  “Better that way.”

  Before the moment could deepen, a harsh voice cut through the air:

  “So that’s it? The hero of Sorriso flirting in the corridors?”

  Valen Rowan approached, his gaze loaded with envy.

  “While others bled, you act like a savior. You don’t even have magic.”

  Lukas didn’t respond. He simply walked past him.

  “If you have time to talk, you have time to rebuild.”

  The silence that followed was heavier than any blow.

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Sarya withdrew like the wind.

  Valen sighed.

  How did the Ind?mina awaken in a human? Why in that short one and not in ME, who has real Autumn Elf blood, from the same tribe as the first bearer? Why did a human awaken what should have been mine… Damn it, this is wrong.

  Why didn’t the Autumn Angelim bless me with more will?

  On the upper terrace, Catarina waited, covered in scrolls.

  “I saw everything,” she said. “Who stepped onto the stage… and who stayed quiet.”

  “The South still stands,” Lukas replied. “That was the objective.”

  “History decides who is remembered and who is forgotten.”

  “Then let them write it however they want.”

  The summons came that same night.

  In the council chamber, everyone was present.

  Kyros at the front. Silvio against the wall. The Patriarchs of the Seasons seated in silence.

  Tailer sat farther back, wrapped in a white wolf-fur coat, bandaged, blue eyes shining like ice.

  Sarya stood in a corner, motionless like a block of ice.

  Silvio spoke first:

  “That is Ravia. My daughter — no secret. Many here have already seen her in action. She will likely take command of the Gath Squad… if she deserves it. Or create her own. I won’t force anything.”

  Ravia maintained a neutral posture. Inside, her heart was exploding.

  “And this is Aisten,” Silvio continued. “No mana. But a brilliant mind. Dreams of becoming a mage.”

  Aisten waved nervously, round glasses on his face.

  Aurelius turned to Sarya.

  “Sarya Veyrunn needs no introduction. The finest combatant among the Autumn Elves. She surpassed even my son, Valen.”

  She underwent a heavy process of adaptability and still fought like that, even while receiving Autumn’s shimmering aura. The mana flow was unstable, yet she fought like Nydrel, the first bearer of the Ind?mina. Against the improbable. As if the legends had come to life.

  “A valuable addition to the new generation, without question.”

  He smiled sideways.

  “Choose your husband wisely, Sarya. Valen is still available — same tribe. In any case, choose well.”

  Sarya showed no emotion. Not even a reaction. She remained cold as ice.

  “Perhaps she prefers a human,” Kyros cut in. “Mixed couples have become common in the South.”

  She didn’t react. No muscle moved. But her heart accelerated just a little. Her face remained neutral.

  Ravia noticed the reaction, subtle as it was — anatomy was her specialty.

  Silvio smiled. “Well, you may be right, Kyros, but Aurelius won’t accept losing Autumn’s treasure.”

  “What are you implying, Silvio?” Aurelius asked.

  “Nothing…”

  Flora spoke:

  “True. Besides the youths here and Lukas, who is on his way, there are many other talents in the new generation.”

  A voice came from the other side of the door:

  “Father, you asked for me?”

  “Yes. Come in, my son.”

  The guards opened the way.

  The atmosphere shifted.

  “Well then,” Kyros concluded. “Lukas Fernandes needs no introduction. He is the tenth.”

  Silvio immediately asked:

  “How long has it been, tenth… or should I say, hero?”

  Lukas thought: Who are you?

  “Don’t make that face, boy,” Silvio said. “Don’t recognize your godfather?”

  Lukas forced a smile.

  Caesar: Another one… and this one has the aura of a beast — and not a weak one. Mess up your words and you’ll lose your head or earn a scar.

  Morgana: I love it. Smells like danger. Tease him, chocolatinho.

  Caesar: Don’t listen, young LEGIONARY.

  The questions began.

  “How did you learn about the Tower?” Kotan asked.

  “Catarina, sir. Everything started with her. I simply decided to listen to what she had to say before the festival.”

  “And how did you anticipate everything?” Aurelius asked.

  “Based on what Catarina told me, it was clear: if the Tower emerged in the North, on the borders of Mount Roraima, we would need to funnel the battlefield, because a continental-level defense would be necessary, since the Northern Kingdoms would take advantage of the opportunity to invade.”

  “You became strong. How? Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Flora asked.

  “I trained in secret. My brothers didn’t accept me in training, so all I had left was will and effort to keep going alone. And even if I had spoken, no one would believe a failure. So I chose to prove it with actions, not words.”

  “And do you know what awakened?” Aurelius asked.

  “No, sir. Honestly. My body was at its limit. I only remember my heart and my entire being refusing to give up. It wasn’t over yet. I couldn’t let that Disaster escape.”

  “My body shut down, and when I came to, three days had already passed.”

  “You have no mana of your own. We felt nothing coming from you, yet you are filled with mystical force. Is this the power of the hidden paths from ancient books, or something related to the Ind?mina?”

  “And the fact that you kept fighting even while unconscious confirms it: it really was the Ind?mina. But how could a human awaken something we believed exclusive to the Autumn Elves?”

  “For three hundred years, no one awakened it fully — only partially, and very weakly. We thought it was just myth. Even Kyros tried and only has something faint, partial, nothing compared to what we felt. When you released your indomitable aura, all of us felt it, even from afar.”

  “It doesn’t surprise me, considering you have Kyros’s blood.”

  “We’ll attempt the Ceremony of the Seasonal Blessings with you again. This time, Lazule will surely shine. That’s what I believe.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  “The turtle shell covered the entire Empire. How did you do that?” Silvio asked. “A continental defense like a constellation.”

  “I call it the Sacred Shadow Turtle Shell. I didn’t do it alone. I had help from high-ranking mages from Bragan?a and from the Aucairin stones positioned by Catarina and Draken across the Empire, both for civilian teleportation and the Turtle’s defense. Because of the spheres, it created that constellation effect. I only linked it to my Moon Shield and my inexplicable will. That connected the entire Empire.”

  Caesar: Hey, you forgot to say you used my mana and the witch’s.

  “But you don’t have mana,” Silvio said. “How?”

  Lukas thought quickly.

  Lumpas. I have Lumpas. One named Caesar, the other Morgana. Their magic is what I use, since I have no mana of my own. It was thanks to them that I connected the Empire.

  “And that cangaceiro hat on your belt? Another lumpa?” Silvio asked.

  “That is their connection.”

  “I heard Tinbell was selling little keychains like that,” Silvio said.

  “Correct, sir. The keychain is a temporary Anchor for my lumpas, Caesar and Morgana. We didn’t have time to strengthen our bond to the level required for the true Anchor.”

  “Then summon them here,” Silvio said.

  Morgana: Steel yourself, chocolatinho.

  Caesar: Say we’re unavailable. Full schedule.

  Morgana, shocked: What? The little soldier made a joke?

  Caesar: I can joke too, witch.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Lukas said. “After I collapsed, I lost my connection with them. Perhaps because of the Ind?mina. But once it returns, I’ll summon them without fail.”

  Caesar: Damn, legionary, you lie straight to his face.

  Lukas (mentally): Shut up, Caesar.

  “All right,” Silvio said, suspicious. “I’ll be watching. I didn’t swallow that story easily, but I’ll wait.”

  Silvio’s thoughts:

  This boy has no mana.

  He didn’t lie directly.

  But he explained too much… in the wrong way.

  That’s someone hiding something big.

  And my predator instinct has never failed me.

  That instinct is what marked Kyros in the past.

  Morgana: Obviously that tiger smells lies in the air, and everyone’s looking weird. Your father’s gaze is sharp.

  Caesar: You’re not helping, witch.

  The questions continued.

  Lukas answered each one with surgical precision.

  Until Helena spoke:

  “So, last question. What kind of girl do you prefer? Elf, human, demi-human? Any specific taste?”

  Everyone froze.

  Ravia and Sarya didn’t react.

  Silvio thought: Damn, boy… how are you going to answer that? Maybe she wants to see if you’re prejudiced, or if you think like your father.

  Caesar: What kind of question is that? A tribal leader shouldn’t ask this of the hero of the South.

  Morgana, eyes glowing with purple flaming hearts:

  I loved that question, Matriarch! I totally support it. Answer, chocolatinho. I want one of every race in my bed.

  Caesar shouted in Latin:

  Do not listen, boy! This is perdition disguised as words! Ignore it, pretend you don’t know!

  Lukas took a deep breath.

  “Well, I believe every girl has her own beauty, regardless of race. Each has her culture, ideals, and way of acting. Beauty isn’t just appearance. Those who look only at that can’t see true feminine beauty and strength. Someone can be beautiful outside and rotten inside.”

  “My preference? I don’t have one. All are beautiful and have a unique way that captivates me.”

  “If you want to know whether I’m hostile toward other races, or if I see you as objects for relief or collection — no. I don’t see it that way. I value women and their people alike, whether elves, demi-humans, fairies, or dwarves. I don’t place my race above any other.”

  Helena’s thoughts:

  It isn’t desire.

  It isn’t juvenile curiosity.

  He didn’t answer like a man of the Empire.

  Helena kept her face neutral.

  Not a single muscle moved.

  Inside, she evaluated in silence.

  He didn’t choose bodies.

  He chose values.

  Most men, when asked, revealed disgust disguised as taste.

  Or fetish masked as bravery.

  Or power dressed up as preference.

  Lukas did none of that.

  He doesn’t see races as prizes.

  Nor as threats.

  That was rare.

  Rarer than the Ind?mina.

  If he grows like this…

  He won’t use the world.

  He’ll carry it.

  Helena felt the weight leave her shoulders — not relief, but confirmation.

  Kyros didn’t make a mistake.

  Not because the boy was strong.

  Not because he awakened something ancient.

  But because, even under pressure, he didn’t betray who he is.

  If he leads one day…

  I won’t need to watch him.

  She accepted in silence.

  Not as Matriarch.

  Not as Patriarch of the Seasons.

  But as someone who has buried too many leaders.

  This one… can stay.

  And she fell silent again.

  Silvio thought: Bingo, kid. Perfect social reading. I’m liking this new you. Who will you choose as Gath? Or rather… who will compete to stand by your side?

  Silvio didn’t smile.

  Didn’t frown.

  But something inside him… woke up.

  It wasn’t the answer.

  It was the timing.

  Too fast to be rehearsed.

  Too slow to be empty.

  Not a pose, he thought.

  Predators don’t hunt words.

  They hunt deviation.

  And Lukas didn’t deviate.

  He didn’t try to please.

  Didn’t try to protect himself.

  Didn’t try to dominate the room.

  He spoke like someone who already decided who he is —

  and doesn’t negotiate that under pressure.

  Silvio felt the same old shiver.

  The same one he felt when Kyros, years ago,

  chose to lose a battle

  rather than cross a line.

  This boy doesn’t bite on impulse, he thought.

  He bites only when necessary.

  Dangerous.

  More dangerous than ambition.

  More dangerous than hunger for power.

  Because this kind of man

  doesn’t want to take the world.

  He carries its weight.

  Silvio crossed his arms tighter.

  If he grows whole…

  He’ll be someone even monsters respect.

  The instinct didn’t growl.

  Didn’t attack.

  It simply marked territory, mentally.

  This one is not prey.

  And maybe… not an enemy.

  Silvio returned to silence.

  But decided something right there:

  I’ll observe.

  And if the world tries to break him…

  I want to be close enough to see.

  Helena smiled.

  “Just like you, Kyros. It’s not just the appearance. I was curious. He even speaks the same way you did when you were young.”

  “I accept… if he becomes your successor one day, I accept him. My favorite so far, and not just because of the Ind?mina.”

  Sarya felt a small flutter at Lukas’s answer.

  Ravia blushed faintly.

  Then it began.

  When the side effects of the healing magic Ravia had used appeared, chaos erupted.

  Kotan of Winter fell to his knees, vomiting. Intense pain in the arm that had been reattached, like magma burning and melting the skin — but the arm was normal; it was only the sensation.

  Aurelius also grew ill, leaning on his spear, feeling his internal organs burn.

  “Summer and ice don’t mix,” Caesar explained. “The gift is solar. Bodies with cold blessings reject it.”

  Lukas, tense, explained the side effects:

  that the refinement wasn’t complete;

  that cold blessings, like Autumn and Winter, don’t react well to the Sun’s gift,

  because they are opposites.

  Helena and Flora broke into cold sweat.

  “Meat…” Flora murmured.

  “Elves don’t eat meat,” Helena growled.

  Morgana: Oh, this is getting good. The taste of the forbidden is delicious, isn’t it, chocolatinho? Tell them to accept it, sweetheart.

  “In their case,” Caesar explained, “the body demands protein. Compatibility creates an energetic toll.”

  Lukas passed Caesar’s explanation along.

  “That Sorriso barbecue sounds good,” Aisten commented.

  Helena grabbed Aisten by the hair, murderous intent blazing:

  “Hey, bowl-cut! You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

  He was thrown out the window.

  “Aaaaaaaaaah!”

  “He didn’t mean it,” Silvio sighed.

  Amid the chaos, Tailer smiled.

  Aurelius and Kotan couldn’t direct their frustration at Ravia — Silvio didn’t tolerate murderous intent directed at her, not even from allies.

  They turned to Lukas.

  “Explain something. Why is Sarya fine? Isn’t she from Autumn? And she drank it directly, right?”

  “Well… hers was finished earlier,” Lukas replied.

  “You’ve got a lot of nerve, boy,” Aurelius said, spear in hand. “Just because you’re the hero of the South, you think you can mess with us?”

  Lukas took a step back behind Kyros.

  “Don’t hide behind your father, chocolatinho,” Kotan said, sword drawn. “We just want to talk.”

  “With a sword in your hand, sir?”

  Kyros thought: Poor bastards.

  “How long will we stay like this, boy?”

  “Hey, Caesar?”

  “Two days.”

  “Damn it, Caesar, I’m going to die here.”

  “I can’t do anything. The Sun’s gift was already applied. I could’ve changed it before, like I did with Sarya, but they already absorbed it. All that’s left is to wait.”

  “Two days,” Lukas answered.

  “You’ll regret this, miserable boy,” Kotan and Aurelius said together.

  Helena knocked both of them out with a strike to the neck.

  “That’s enough. You’re threatening a boy who turned the tide in our favor, and he’s Kyros’s son, idiots.”

  Tailer took advantage of the confusion.

  “So, chocolatinho… joining the Forest Echoes at Delos?”

  Lukas raised his thumb, smiling.

  Sarya saw the smile.

  Outside: ice.

  Inside: her heart raced.

  Thump. Thump.

  The shadows moved.

  The new generation had begun.

  End of Chapter 20