Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The mansion was quieter than usual.

Hans moved around the house with practiced efficiency, ensuring everything remained in order. He had worked here long enough to know that silence meant only one thing—Young Master Cale was left alone again. No Count Deruth. No Madame Violan. Ron had long since left, taking Beacrox with him.

And Choi Han…

Hans's expression darkened as he wiped the polished table. Choi Han had beaten Young Master Cale half to death. The servants whispered about it, some with disdain, others with quiet pity. But no one helped him. No one stood up for him.

Except for Hans and Lily.

"Young Master Cale, it's time for your meal," Hans called softly, knocking on the door.

No response.

Hans sighed and pushed the door open. The room was dim, curtains drawn, dust motes swirling in the weak light that seeped through. The once-pristine space was a mess—empty wine bottles rolling on the floor, papers scattered, the faint scent of dried blood lingering in the air.

And in the middle of it all, Cale Henituse sat, head resting on one hand, eyes unfocused.

"...You're still here, Hans?" Cale muttered, voice hoarse.

"I will always be here, Young Master."

Hans placed the tray down, ignoring the dull ache in his chest.

Cale snorted. "That makes one of you."

Hans didn’t answer. There was nothing to say.

Because it was true.

Deep in the Forest

Cale had always known about this place.

A hidden temple buried within the depths of a forest so dark and twisted that no sane person ventured inside. But he wasn’t sane, was he?

A trash like him…

A side villain like him…

Wasn't meant to be sane.

Step by step, he moved forward, trailing blood from his reopened wounds. Choi Han's fists had made sure of that. But he didn't care. He had been through worse.

And maybe—just maybe—he would finally find something interesting here.

The temple was ancient. Cracked pillars lined the entrance, whispers of forgotten gods echoing in the wind.

Cale stepped inside.

The air grew heavier, thick with the scent of incense and something far older. The torches on the walls flickered to life as if welcoming him.

And then, he spoke.

"I'm bored."

His voice echoed, bouncing off the empty stone walls.

No answer.

He stepped further in.

"I don’t wanna be anything anymore," he continued, fingers trailing over the carvings of gods long abandoned. "I don’t wanna be a trash. I don’t wanna be just a side villain."

He stopped in front of a worn-out altar, gaze darkening.

"I want…"

The temple shuddered.

Torches flared.

Something stirred.

"I want to be the main villain of this story. Of this world."

Silence.

Then—laughter.

It started as a whisper. A low, mocking chuckle. Then it grew, echoing from every corner of the temple. A chorus of unseen voices—amused, intrigued, entertained.

And then—

"Ahh… What an amusing wish."

Cale’s breath hitched.

The presence was suffocating. Heavy. Divine.

"You, who have always been cast aside, wish to take center stage?"

The torches burned brighter.

"A mere side character, daring to reach for the throne of villainy?"

More voices joined. Some laughing. Some scoffing. Some merely watching.

But they were listening.

Even the Sun God.

Even the God of Death.

And countless others.

Cale grinned, despite the pressure weighing down on him.

"Yeah," he breathed, licking his split lip. "That’s exactly what I want."

The laughter stopped.

Then—

A pulse of power surged through the temple.

The world tilted.

And something—someone—descended.

"Then prove it, Cale Henituse."

The gods watched.

And Cale—no, the future villain of this world—laughed.

Chapter Text

The temple hummed with power.

Cale stood at the altar, the weight of countless gods’ gazes pressing down on him. He could feel them. Some amused, some intrigued, and one particularly proud.

"My child," a deep voice murmured, rich with dark approval. "Finally, you stand where you belong."

The God of Death.

Cale smirked. "Took you long enough to notice."

A deep chuckle resonated through the chamber.

The other gods whispered among themselves. Some questioned, some mocked, and some merely watched.

But one remained silent.

The Sun God.

He simply… listened. Observed.

Cale ignored him.

Right now, he had bigger things to focus on.

"Every villain needs their pieces," the God of Death purred. "And as my most favored child, I shall give you yours."

The temple trembled.

Something was coming.

A surge of power rippled through the air, ancient and familiar. It wrapped around Cale, threading into his very bones. And then—

Three figures emerged from the shadows, stepping onto the cold stone floor.

Cale’s breath caught.

Because he knew them.

The Pieces of a Villain

The first was a girl with sleek black fur and glowing golden eyes. She walked with the grace of a queen, power radiating from her small form.

On.

No, this wasn’t just the On he had once known. She was stronger. Faster. Sharper.

Her gaze locked onto him, and a slow, knowing smile curled on her lips.

The second was a boy, his twin tails flicking playfully, his red eyes gleaming with something far more dangerous than mischief. His movements were lighter, quicker—a shadow dancing just out of reach.

Hong.

But again—not just Hong.

The gods had reforged them. They were no longer merely beast children. They were something far greater now.

And finally—

A presence burst forth like a storm, heat crackling through the air.

A massive black dragon landed before him, obsidian scales gleaming, wings folding elegantly at his sides.

Raon.

Not the Raon he had left behind.

No, this Raon stood tall, power humming through his very being. His eyes burned bright—a firestorm of magic and loyalty.

Cale could only stare.

Then—

"Human!" Raon’s voice boomed, filled with unrestrained joy. "We’re finally back with you!"

And just like that, he crashed into Cale’s chest.

Cale grunted as a pair of small but surprisingly strong arms wrapped around him, followed quickly by two more. On and Hong clung to him, their warmth seeping into his skin.

For a moment, he couldn't move.

Because damn it—

He was weak to kids.

Even like this. Even as a so-called villain.

He sighed, pressing a hand against his forehead. "What kind of villain has clingy sidekicks?"

Hong grinned. "The best kind."

Cale scoffed, but his grip on them tightened.

Because for the first time in a long time…

He wasn’t alone.

The Gods’ Amusement

The divine voices murmured louder now, interest spiking.

"Hah! The villain is already soft!"

"Yet look at them—they were created for him. They will follow him to the ends of the world."

"A villain who dotes on his subordinates? How interesting."

The God of Death’s voice rumbled with laughter. "As expected of my child."

The Sun God remained silent.

Cale ignored the murmurs, his mind already moving ahead. He had his pieces now.

All that was left—

Was to play the game.

And win..

Win? Pff-! Let's not play the game but make it. It will be so much fun!~

Chapter Text

Cale looked at the three before him, his arms crossed as he processed what the gods had done. They weren’t just back. They were reborn.

On, once a cunning assassin-in-training, had become something far more terrifying. The Ghost Whisperer. She moved like a shadow, blending seamlessly into the darkness. The air around her shimmered, twisting into illusions so real they could deceive even the gods. If she willed it, entire false realities could be created.

Hong had always been deadly with poisons, but now? He was the Venomous Blade. A single drop of his venom could melt through steel. Worse, he could seep into the minds of the weak-willed, his toxins bending them to his will.

And Raon. Raon was no longer just a six-year-old dragon. He was the Abyssal Tyrant. His magic, once potent but young, had now grown into something vast and unfathomable. A single flick of his claw could bring forth destruction. His power could shake mountains, turn armies to dust.

They were monsters now.

And yet—

Cale exhaled as Raon leaned against his side, tail thumping happily. On and Hong clung to his sleeves, waiting for his response. Their powerful abilities, their fearsome strength… none of it changed one simple fact.

They were still children.

Children who looked at him with wide, expectant eyes.

Cale sighed, ruffling Raon’s head. "We’ll figure this out later."

They brightened instantly.

"But for now," he continued, picking up On and Hong with little effort, "you two are coming with me."

Raon blinked. "What about me, human?"

"You’re a dragon."

"So?"

Cale gave him a deadpan look. "Do you want People bowing and worthshiping you the moment we walk into town? I don't."

Raon pouted but grumbled, "Fine. I will be invisible."

Cale nodded. "Good. Let’s go."

It was raining when Cale returned to the Henituse estate.

Hans had been waiting by the door, lantern in hand, worry creasing his features.

And then—

His young master walked in, drenched, water dripping onto the floor.

With two cats in hand.

Hans blinked.

"Young Master Cale…" He hesitated, eyes darting to the feline siblings, then back to Cale. "Should I even ask?"

Cale shrugged. "I found them."

Hans didn’t look convinced. "In the middle of a storm?"

"…Yes."

Hans sighed, rubbing his temple. "Young Master, please take a warm bath before you catch a cold."

Cale was already walking past him. "Yeah, yeah."

Hans didn’t stop him, though he did quickly instruct the servants to prepare a bath and fresh clothes.

In the shadows, invisible to all, Raon followed behind, his tail swishing in amusement.

After a bath and a change of clothes, Cale was lying on his bed, finally warm, the two "cats" curled up beside him. On rested by his pillow, Hong sprawled on his stomach, purring softly.

He had just closed his eyes when—

A knock.

Cale sighed. "Come in."

The door creaked open, and a familiar little girl peeked in.

Lily.

Her soft blue eyes scanned the room before she carefully stepped inside, her small hands clasped in front of her. "Brother… are you okay?"

Cale arched a brow. "Why wouldn’t I be?"

Lily hesitated. "Hans said you came back soaking wet."

Cale rolled his eyes. "I’m fine."

A movement in the hallway caught his attention.

Cale smirked. "Basen, just come in. You’re terrible at sneaking."

A quiet sigh sounded before Basen, his younger half-brother, stepped inside, looking slightly embarrassed. "I was just making sure Lily wasn’t bothering you."

Lily huffed. "I am not a bother."

Cale ignored their small argument, leaning back against his pillows. "I’m fine. You two worry too much."

"Of course we do," Basen said, eyes narrowing. "You're our brother."

Cale blinked.

That… was unexpected.

Before he could say anything, Lily’s eyes landed on On and Hong. "Oh! You brought cats!"

Cale didn’t react fast enough.

The next thing he knew, Lily was lifting On into her arms, cooing over her soft fur. Basen, despite his composed demeanor, was gently petting Hong, who purred in satisfaction.

Cale watched as On and Hong played along, nuzzling against the two younger siblings.

A villain with a soft spot for kids.

A villain who let his siblings play with his supposedly fearsome sidekicks.

Cale scoffed, shaking his head.

Yeah.

This was fine.

Cale watched as Lily and Basen finally left his room, the two chatting excitedly about the "cute cats" they had just met. He shook his head, sighing as he closed the door.

Immediately, Raon shimmered into existence, appearing mid-air and landing on the bed with a small thud. His large blue eyes gleamed with expectation, his tail swishing as he glanced between On and Hong, who were still comfortably sprawled out.

On stretched lazily, curling her tail around herself with a pleased hum. "Your siblings are nice."

Hong, flicking his tail in amusement, purred. "They gave good head pats."

Raon, however, pouted. His ears flattened slightly, his wings twitching. "I wanted to play too."

Cale arched a brow. "You were invisible."

"You told me to be invisible!" Raon huffed, flapping his wings dramatically. "You didn’t say I couldn’t play!"

Cale rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he reached out and patted all three of them on the head. On leaned into his touch, her eyes closing in satisfaction. Hong purred louder. Even Raon, despite his earlier sulking, let out a small, pleased huff as his tail thumped against the bed.

"Stop pouting," Cale muttered as he ruffled Raon’s head, "You’ll get your turn."

Raon’s tail swayed happily at the promise.

But then Cale looked at On and Hong properly—wet fur, slight dirt clinging to their tails. He clicked his tongue. "You two need a bath."

Hong froze. On's ears twitched.

"A what?" Hong asked, eyes slightly wide.

"A bath," Cale repeated, already standing up. "You stink like rain and dirt."

Hong tried to subtly inch away, but Cale grabbed him by the scruff like a proper cat owner. On sighed, accepting her fate with much more grace.

Raon, watching from the bed, blinked. "Do I need a bath too, human?"

Cale gave him a deadpan stare. "You literally use magic to stay clean."

Raon nodded sagely. "That is true."

Hong whined in betrayal as Cale carried him to the bathroom. "This isn’t fair!"

The bath wasn’t a complete disaster, but Hong certainly made it dramatic. He wailed about how his dignity as the Venomous Blade was being washed away. On simply accepted her fate, even relaxing a little once she got used to the warmth.

Cale, ignoring Hong's exaggerated suffering, methodically scrubbed them clean, his hands surprisingly gentle as he made sure their fur was soft and fluffy again. Afterward, he wrapped them in warm towels, letting them sit on his lap as they dried off.

Once they were completely clean, he finally placed food before them.

Raon, of course, had the largest portion, which he happily devoured. On ate neatly, her tail flicking contentedly. Hong, still grumbling about the bath, nonetheless scarfed down his food.

Cale leaned back, arms crossed, watching them.

They were supposed to be villains. Supposed to be powerful sidekicks in his grand new story as a villain.

But right now?

They were just kids.

And Cale was fine with that.

"Eat up," he muttered, reaching out to scratch Raon behind the ears. The dragon rumbled in satisfaction. "You’ll need all your strength for tomorrow."

On perked up. "Tomorrow?"

Cale smirked, leaning back against the chair.

"Tomorrow, we start making this world our story."

Chapter Text

The rain had long since ceased, leaving behind the crisp scent of damp earth and freshened air. Cale sat in his study, legs crossed, fingers leisurely swirling a glass of wine as he stared at the flickering candlelight. Shadows danced along the walls, stretching and twisting under On’s subtle magic. She sat by the windowsill, tail swaying idly. Hong lay on the rug, lazily clawing at a discarded piece of parchment. Raon, ever the eager one, hovered nearby, observing his human with quiet curiosity.

Cale was no fool. He knew brute force alone could never topple the so-called “heroes” of this world. They were strong, backed by power, righteousness, and, most disgustingly, faith. But what was strength without unity? What was righteousness when tainted with doubt? Cale smirked. A sharp, cruel smile. He did not need to wield a sword to kill his enemies. Words were far sharper than blades, and he intended to let them cut deep.

"People fear what they do not understand," Cale murmured, placing his glass down. "They love a good story, but more than that, they love to be the ones telling it."

On’s ears twitched. "And you will give them stories?"

Cale chuckled. "No, dear On. I will give them whispers. Half-truths. Secrets wrapped in just enough reality that they become undeniable."

Hong rolled onto his back, stretching lazily. "Rumors are fragile things, though. One wrong step, and they crumble."

"Ah, but that is where the fun lies," Cale leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "You see, my dear Hong, people want to believe in scandals. They want to think their enemies are weak, their allies untrustworthy. I will merely provide the opportunity for such thoughts to fester."

Raon tilted his head. "So what do we do?"

Cale stood, walking towards the large map pinned to the wall. His fingers traced the noble houses, the power structures, the intricate web of alliances and rivalries that held this world together. He tapped one estate in particular.

"The House of Arvent," he mused. "A noble house known for its unwavering loyalty to the kingdom’s heroes. But what happens if whispers arise that their eldest son has been secretly colluding with mercenaries?"

Hong’s eyes gleamed. "And what if there’s just enough ‘evidence’ to make people doubt?"

Cale smirked. "Precisely."

On flicked her tail. "And the merchant guilds? Their influence runs deeper than even the nobles realize. A few well-placed words in the right ears could make them reconsider their investments."

"We will make them uneasy," Cale agreed. "We will make them look at their trusted allies and wonder, even for a moment, ‘Are they truly loyal to me?’ That moment of doubt is all we need."

Raon flapped his wings excitedly. "Then what? What happens when they start suspecting each other?"

Cale chuckled, his voice as smooth as silk, yet laced with poison. "Then we watch as their foundations crack. When they realize the ones they trust the most may be the very ones conspiring against them, they will destroy themselves from within. And when that time comes..." He turned, the candlelight casting long shadows across his face. "We will be there to sweep away the remains."

The three creatures stared at him with admiration.

He was their human, and they would follow him into the depths of hell itself.

Cale leaned back, exhaling slowly. "But this is only the beginning. We will not simply be shadows lurking in the dark. We will be the storm that turns the world upside down."

Hong grinned, his fangs glinting in the dim light. "Then let’s start spreading our little whispers, shall we?"

Cale smirked. "Let the game begin."

The stage is set, and Cale has begun his intricate game of deception and manipulation.

On slipped into the noble district under the cover of night, her paws making no sound against the cobblestone streets. Her shadow magic wove intricate illusions, altering her appearance as needed. She entered the House of Arvent’s servant quarters, listening, gathering scraps of information. And then, subtly, she let slip a whisper here, a hushed conversation there. Servants carried gossip faster than any messenger—soon, the rumors would spread like wildfire.

Meanwhile, Hong took a different approach. Disguised as a simple beggar, he positioned himself near high-traffic areas in the capital, murmuring to passersby about stolen funds, suspicious meetings, and secret dealings. He targeted the merchants next, his poison lacing their drinks ever so slightly—just enough to make them jittery, paranoid. Businessmen ruled on trust, and once that crumbled, their influence would follow.

Raon, though still young, wielded power unmatched. He hovered above, unseen, using his magic to create small distortions—flashes of documents appearing where they should not, noble correspondence misplaced in the wrong hands. One forged letter, placed at just the right moment, was all it took to plant the seed of betrayal.

And Cale? He watched. He listened. He pulled strings when needed, guiding the pieces into place like a master tactician. At a noble’s gathering, he spoke in carefully chosen words, subtly pointing out inconsistencies, stoking the embers of distrust. He didn’t need to lie outright. He merely needed to lead them to draw their own conclusions.

The heroes and their allies would not even realize they were being played until it was too late.

Cale leaned back, satisfied. "Now... we wait."

The capital city was a web of power, delicately woven and easily unraveled if one knew where to pull. And Cale knew exactly where to tug the strings.

On moved like a shadow through the noble district, her feline grace making her presence undetectable even without magic. She had learned from the best—stealth was second nature. With her enhanced abilities, she weaved illusions seamlessly, blending into her surroundings as she infiltrated the House of Arvent’s estate. A mere servant’s garb draped over her small frame, a flick of her tail concealing her true form as she navigated the hidden corridors.

In the servants’ quarters, gossip flowed like fine wine. A few whispered words, carefully placed, did the trick.

"Did you hear? The young master has been seen slipping out at night. They say he's meeting someone in the old district."

"No! You don’t mean..."

"Who else could it be? They say mercenaries have been lurking around lately."

Gasps. Suspicious glances. On smirked as she slinked away. Servants loved to talk. And soon, the Arvent household would be flooded with paranoia.

(One house down. Several more to go.)

Hong’s approach was far more direct. He thrived in chaos, weaving disorder into the fabric of society with his poisons and whispers. Dressed in rags, his fur dirty from the streets, he positioned himself at a bustling merchant square, eyes glinting as he listened to the chatter.

Merchants thrived on trust. A single drop of poison in the right cup, a misplaced invoice here, a discrepancy in ledgers there, and suddenly, the foundation of commerce cracked.

He sidled up to a merchant deep in conversation with his colleagues, eyes sharp as he nudged the man’s drink ever so slightly. Just enough for the tainted liquid to slide down his throat. Not enough to kill—only enough to send the merchant into a fevered state of paranoia.

Minutes later, the man’s face twisted in confusion. "Where is my shipment document? I placed it right here!"

His associate frowned. "Shipment? The goods were already delivered, weren’t they?"

"No, no—something’s wrong! Who handled it last? Did someone forge my signature?"

Hong smirked as he backed away, letting the rising tension take its natural course. Merchants, when paranoid, became desperate. And desperate men made foolish decisions.

(Soon, deals would collapse, and alliances would be questioned.)

Above the city, Raon hovered, his large eyes gleaming as he cloaked himself in invisibility. He had no need for brute force—his magic was subtle yet far-reaching. He stretched his power over the city, weaving small distortions into the fabric of reality.

A noblewoman found a letter on her desk—one she swore she had never written, yet it bore her seal. In it, damning words hinted at betrayal.

A knight received an anonymous tip about his commander’s "secret dealings." Doubt settled in his heart.

A politician found his own speech altered, just enough to offend the most powerful of his supporters.

Raon’s magic whispered, twisted, and misled, feeding the seeds Cale had sown. Soon, the entire city would feel the ripples.

(And then, the real storm would begin.)

Chapter Text

The halls of the Henituse estate were quiet, save for the occasional flicker of candlelight casting long shadows against the stone walls. The night air was still, yet within the depths of the mansion, three figures sat in tense silence, their expressions ranging from concern to unwavering loyalty.

Hans had discovered the truth first. As Cale’s personal butler, he had always kept a close eye on his young master, ensuring his well-being. But lately, Cale had been... different. The strange meetings, the discreet letters exchanged in the dead of night, the subtle manipulations unfolding within the kingdom—Hans had pieced it all together.

And now, he was standing before Cale, unwavering.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Basen's voice was quiet, controlled, but beneath it lay a storm of emotions.

Cale leaned back against the cushioned chair, his expression unreadable. His crimson hair fell over his eyes, shadowing his gaze. “Knew what?”

Hans sighed. “Young Master, there is no point in pretending. We know what you’re doing.”

Cale's fingers drummed against the armrest. (So they finally caught on.)

Lily, who had been sitting quietly, clenched her fists. “Brother... you’ve been the one behind the recent betrayals in Roan, haven’t you? The noble infighting, the rift between the knights and the mages, and...” She hesitated before meeting his gaze. “You’re gathering the abandoned. The ones discarded by the kingdom.”

Cale said nothing.

Basen inhaled sharply. “Why?”

For the first time, Cale’s lips curved into a smirk, though his eyes remained cold. “Because this kingdom is rotten, Basen. Because it was built on the backs of the weak, only to discard them when they are no longer useful.”

Hans, ever calm, spoke up. “And so you seek to destroy it?”

Cale chuckled. “Destroy it? No. That would be too easy. I’m simply... rearranging the pieces on the board.”

Lily leaned forward, her eyes shining with something different from fear—curiosity. “And what do you intend to do with those pieces?”

Cale tilted his head. “That depends. The nobles have already begun tearing each other apart. The knights and mages? They’ll be at war soon enough, thanks to their own arrogance. As for the abandoned... I’m giving them something no one else has.”

He paused, his voice softening. “A place to belong.”

A heavy silence filled the room.

Basen swallowed. “You’re forming an army, aren’t you?”

Cale didn’t answer.

Hans closed his eyes. (So this is the path he has chosen...)

Despite knowing what Cale had done—what he was continuing to do—Hans could not bring himself to oppose him. Because in the end, no matter how ruthless his young master had become, Cale was still Cale.

Hans took a deep breath. “Then I will serve you as I always have.”

Cale raised an eyebrow. “Even knowing what I’m doing?”

Hans smiled, bowing his head. “You are still my young master.”

Lily’s voice was determined. “I want to help.”

Basen blinked, turning to his sister in shock. “Lily—”

“No.” She shook her head. “I’ve always admired you, brother. And if this is your path, then I want to walk it with you.” Her eyes gleamed with excitement. “Besides... your plans are fascinating.”

Cale chuckled. “And you, Basen?”

Basen sighed, rubbing his temples. “I suppose someone needs to cover for you. I’ll handle Mother and Father, make sure they don’t suspect anything.”

Cale smirked. “Good.”

For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to relax.

The kingdom of Roan was crumbling, and soon, the world would know the name Cale Henituse.

The Henituse estate carried on as usual—at least, on the surface. Yet beneath the peaceful facade, a storm was brewing.

Cale continued his plans for Roan, subtly pulling strings from the shadows. His influence spread like an unseen tide, weakening the kingdom’s political structure piece by piece. With every betrayal he orchestrated, with every alliance he shattered, the cracks within Roan grew deeper. The once-mighty kingdom was on the verge of internal collapse, and no one had even realized the hand guiding its downfall.

But Cale was not alone.

His family had discovered the truth, yet rather than stand against him, they had chosen to support him in their own ways.

Hans: The Watchful Shadow

Hans, the ever-dutiful butler, had seamlessly transitioned into the role of an informant. What better way to gather intelligence than from the whispers of nobles who never paid attention to the servants standing at their side?

He moved unnoticed through the estate, always listening. Whether serving tea or refilling wine glasses, he blended into the background, absorbing every hushed conversation, every stray remark.

“Did you hear? The House of Deruth is planning to meet with the Royal Knights—”

“I swear, the mages are growing restless. They say someone has been interfering with their research, but no one knows who—”

“The nobles are growing suspicious of each other. They’re too busy fighting amongst themselves to realize an outside force might be involved—”

Hans committed every word to memory, quietly passing his findings to Cale.

(Young Master, your plan is progressing smoothly.)

And he would ensure it stayed that way.

Lily: The Relentless Blade

Lily trained harder than ever, determined to grow strong enough to stand at her brother’s side.

The sound of metal clashing filled the training grounds as she pushed herself beyond her limits, sweat dripping from her forehead. She sparred against multiple knights at once, her sword dancing through the air.

“Again,” she commanded.

The knights hesitated. “Young Lady, you’ve been training for hours—”

“I said again.”

They dared not refuse.

(If my brother is willing to go this far, then so will I.)

She would not be a burden. She would not stand on the sidelines. If the time came when she needed to fight for Cale’s cause, she would be ready.

Basen: The Silent Shield

Basen had taken on a different role—one of deception and misdirection.

Whenever Cale and the others left the estate, Basen made sure their parents remained unaware. He intercepted letters, redirected inquiries, and forged excuses whenever necessary.

“Cale? He’s resting today. He’s been feeling unwell lately.”

“Lily? Ah, she’s visiting a friend in the capital. She’ll be back soon.”

“Hans? Probably with brother, taking care of him..”

Basen handled documents, keeping track of every move Cale made. He was meticulous, ensuring no evidence could be traced back to them.

(If our parents knew what we were doing, they would never approve. But they don’t need to know.)

Cale was carving his own path, and Basen would ensure no one got in his way.

Cale: The Unseen Hand

As the days passed, Roan’s downfall accelerated. The nobles turned on one another, paranoia festering in their ranks. The knights and mages grew more divided, their mutual distrust deepening into outright hostility.

And in the shadows, Cale continued to gather the abandoned—those cast aside by the kingdom, the ones deemed unworthy. He gave them a new purpose, a place to belong.

He was no hero. He was no villain.

He was simply the one holding the strings.

And soon, the kingdom of Roan would fall to its knees—without ever realizing who had brought it down.

Chapter Text

The world moved as it always did, oblivious to the shifting shadows beneath its feet. Kingdoms waged wars, nobles schemed in their gilded halls, and so-called heroes basked in their fleeting glory. But in the depths of Roan, unseen and unstoppable, a force far greater than any hero’s blade or king’s decree was rising.

Cale Henituse moved through the chaos like a ghost, his touch felt but never seen. With every calculated step, he wove a web of control so intricate, so insidious, that by the time his enemies realized the noose tightening around their necks, it would already be too late.

"Young Master, the count has begun showing symptoms," Hans reported in a hushed voice, standing beside Cale as they observed the grand hall of a noble estate. Across the room, the once-proud Count Wendelion dabbed at his sweating forehead, his hands trembling as he spoke to his political allies. Uncertainty flickered in their eyes as they watched their leader weaken before them.

(Perfect timing.)

Hong’s poisons worked like whispers in the bloodstream—silent, patient, and inescapable. The nobles, knights, and even a few so-called "heroes" had unknowingly become his pawns, their willpower chipped away piece by piece until Cale’s mere suggestion became their own desperate thoughts. Fear made them pliable. Weakness made them obedient.

"Count Wendelion has been speaking against Duke Orthen," Hans continued. "It seems he no longer trusts his own allies."

Cale smirked. (As expected.) With a simple adjustment, the count's paranoia would spread like wildfire, fracturing alliances and turning once-loyal supporters against one another. Hong’s poisons did not just weaken the body—they shattered the mind.

And On? She ensured they never saw the truth even when it stood right before them.

The people of Roan whispered of shifting faces, of trusted knights suddenly striking down their comrades, of beloved rulers appearing cruel and merciless. The illusion of trust was a fragile thing, and On’s power made sure it shattered in a way that left no pieces to mend.

"Cale," On said, her golden eyes gleaming in the candlelight. "The city guard just executed one of their own for treason. The man swore he was innocent until his last breath."

Cale leaned back in his chair, a slow, satisfied breath escaping his lips. "Good. Let them destroy themselves."

Fear had a way of burrowing into people’s hearts, and once it took root, it never truly left. Who was the real enemy? Who was the traitor? The answer did not matter—so long as the people of the kingdom believed it was each other.

And while they tore themselves apart, Cale built something greater.

Far beyond the reach of kings and armies, deep within a land forgotten by time, a fortress was rising. Raon’s magic shaped the mountains, bending stone and steel into an unbreakable bastion. Walls thick enough to withstand a thousand sieges, hidden corridors only those loyal to Cale would ever know, and a throne room bathed in shadows where he would sit, watching as the world unknowingly bent to his will.

Raon hovered beside him, his small wings flapping as he puffed out his chest. "Human! This fortress will be the greatest in the world! Even dragons would struggle to break through!"

Cale chuckled, his gaze fixed on the towering walls before him. "That’s the point, Raon."

This was not a castle for a hero.

This was not a kingdom for the righteous.

This was a throne for a villain.

The Black Star.

The name would one day send shivers down the spines of those who dared to speak it. The people would not know when it appeared, only that by the time they realized its presence, it had already consumed everything they once held dear.

Cale Henituse did not need to march armies upon the lands.

He did not need to wield a blade.

All he needed was time.

And soon, the world would be his.

The night belonged to shadows and whispers, to unseen hands pulling the strings of fate. By the time the sun began to rise, Roan’s nobles and knights were left scrambling, their alliances fraying, their trust crumbling under the weight of unseen forces. Yet, in the heart of it all, far removed from the chaos they had carefully crafted, a quiet morning unfolded in the Henituse estate, peaceful and untouched.

Lily giggled as she crouched down, her delicate fingers brushing through the soft fur of Hong and ong she and Basen has taken liking in. Ong purred as it climbed onto her lap, pressing its head into her palm, seeking warmth.

"You're so soft and fluffy!~" Lily murmured, stroking its ears.

Basen sat beside her, his usually pristine clothes now dusted with fur, a rare smile tugging at his lips as hong pawed at his sleeve. "It’s strange, isn't it?" he mused, watching as hong and ong sprawled lazily in the warmth of the morning sun. "Just last night, the nobles were tearing each other apart, and now here we are, playing with cats like nothing happened."

Lily hummed in agreement, her gaze flickering toward the terrace, where Cale sat with Hans standing dutifully beside him.

A delicate porcelain cup rested in Cale’s hand, thin wisps of steam curling from the sweet tea within. The rich aroma of honey and herbs filled the air, blending seamlessly with the crisp morning breeze. Beside him, a plate of carefully arranged sweets lay untouched—sugar-dusted pastries, delicate fruit tarts, and golden biscuits still warm from the oven.

Hans, ever the loyal servant, adjusted the tray with practiced ease. "Young Master, you should eat something before your tea gets cold," he urged with the patience of someone who had long since grown used to Cale's ways.

Cale exhaled, his grip on the cup loose but steady. He looked out over the garden, where the morning sun bathed everything in a golden glow, a stark contrast to the darkness he had sown the night before.

(How amusing.)

The world outside was crumbling—kings whispering in paranoia, mages distrusting knights, heroes doubting their own allies. And yet here, within these walls, all was calm. The world would never know that the young lord sipping tea so leisurely was the very same man orchestrating its downfall.

A small flicker of movement to his side drew his attention.

Raon hovered in the air, invisible to all but those he chose to reveal himself to. His round, childlike eyes darted from the sweets to Cale’s face, his tail flicking eagerly.

(He wants them.)

Cale sighed, setting his cup down before lazily picking up a biscuit. Without a word, he held it up, seemingly to no one, and within seconds, the treat disappeared. A soft crunch followed.

Hans, despite himself, fought back a smile as he poured another cup of tea. "I assume the young master is enjoying the biscuits?"

Cale merely raised an eyebrow. "Sure," he said, taking another slow sip of tea.

Raon, still invisible, wiggled in delight as he munched on his stolen snack. "Human! This is delicious!" he whispered, his voice full of glee. "You should eat some too!"

(I don’t need to, as long as you’re satisfied.)

Cale leaned back into his chair, the warmth of the tea settling comfortably in his chest.

For now, there was no scheming, no strategies to refine, no poisons to mix or illusions to spread.

For now, they could rest.

And so, they did.

Chapter Text

The world thrived in the illusion of peace. The so-called heroes basked in their fleeting victories, believing the monsters they fought and the tyrants they overthrew were the greatest evils they would ever face. They feasted in grand halls, exchanged pleasantries with nobles, and whispered promises of protection to the people.

They had no idea.

A storm had been brewing in the shadows, its presence unseen, its whispers unheard.

And then, in a single night, everything changed.

The Kingdom of Velorien—once a beacon of power, wealth, and magic—was wiped from existence before dawn.

Not conquered. Not besieged.

Erased.

When morning arrived, there were no survivors to tell the tale. No desperate refugees. No scattered soldiers fleeing the wreckage. Just the remnants of a mighty kingdom reduced to silent, smoldering ruins. Stone walls, once unshakable, crumbled like brittle parchment. Grand towers that had touched the heavens now lay broken, shattered as though the sky itself had struck them down.

The air was thick with the scent of fire, of destruction so absolute that even the bravest who approached hesitated. Ash drifted like snow, settling over the remains of a kingdom that had ruled for centuries.

And there, scorched into the walls of the ruined palace, was a single message.

Its letters burned deep, carved into the very bones of the fallen kingdom.

"Your Hero’s Story Ends Now."

The words stood as the only testament to what had transpired—a silent declaration, a warning, a promise.

It was not the work of war.

Not the hand of rebellion.

It was something else entirely.

Something far more terrifying.

The heroes arrived too late, their capes billowing as they stepped onto the blackened soil. Their hands clenched into fists, their voices tight with disbelief, their eyes scanning the devastation with unspoken horror.

"How…" One of them, a knight draped in shining silver armor, could barely form the words. "How could this happen?"

There was no enemy army. No signs of battle. No bodies.

Only emptiness.

A kingdom had been plucked from existence like a candle snuffed out in the night.

The truth clawed at them in the silence.

(This was not war. This was not justice. This was a message.)

A cold chill crawled down their spines.

Because for the first time, the so-called heroes felt something they had never truly known before.

Fear.

The room was dimly lit, the weight of the recent catastrophe pressing down on its occupants like an unseen force. Around a large wooden table, the so-called heroes of the world gathered, their faces grim, their minds racing. The message burned into the ruins of Velorien haunted them all.

"Your Hero’s Story Ends Now."

Choi Han sat at the head of the table, fingers drumming against the wood. His normally calm eyes were stormy, filled with an unease he hadn’t felt in a long time. He had fought countless battles, faced unspeakable horrors—but this was different. This wasn’t just destruction. This was a challenge.

"We need to find out who did this." His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it.

Rosalyn, seated beside him, let out a slow breath, rubbing her temples. "I’ve already combed through every magical trace left behind," she said, frustration lacing her tone. "There was nothing. No residue, no mana fluctuations. Whatever did this wasn’t magic as we know it."

(That shouldn’t be possible.)

Lock shifted uneasily, his hands curled into fists. "There weren’t even bodies," he muttered. "A whole kingdom, just… gone. Who could even do that?"

Ron, ever the silent observer, sipped his tea with an unreadable expression. "Who indeed?" he mused. "Who would have the patience, the resources, and the knowledge to make an entire kingdom disappear without a trace?"

Beacrox leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his sharp eyes flickering between them. "Whoever they are, they’re making a statement. This wasn’t just destruction. It was a message."

Rosalyn nodded, her grip tightening around her staff. "And they wanted us to read it."

Choi Han’s jaw clenched. "Then we don’t have time to waste. We start investigating immediately. Someone out there is trying to end the hero’s story."

(And I intend to find out who.)

---

Meanwhile, far away from their desperate discussions, in the peaceful halls of the Henituse estate, the supposed mastermind of it all sat comfortably in the grand library, flipping through a book with all the ease of a nobleman with not a single care in the world.

Cale Henituse turned a page lazily, his expression unreadable, his red eyes half-lidded with disinterest. The scent of old parchment and freshly brewed tea filled the air, mixing with the soft rustle of pages turning.

Raon hovered nearby, invisible, pulling books from the shelves and dropping them into Cale’s lap. "Human! This one looks important!"

Cale exhaled slowly, glancing down at the massive tome Raon had selected. "Raon, this is a five-hundred-page military analysis. What exactly do you expect me to do with this?"

"Learn, of course!" Raon huffed, his tail flicking. "We’re taking over the world, aren’t we? You should be prepared!"

(We?)

Cale sighed but didn’t bother correcting him. Instead, he let his gaze wander across the room.

Basen sat across from him, eyes sharp as he meticulously reviewed documents, his fingers skimming over reports with practiced ease. Every now and then, he would scribble notes in his own coded shorthand, refining the details of their operations.

Hans, ever the loyal butler, moved with quiet efficiency, refilling Cale’s tea, adjusting the stacks of books, ensuring everything was in perfect order.

At the far end of the room, Lily’s bright laughter rang out as she twirled a wooden practice sword, her movements sharp yet playful.

Hong darted toward her, his small frame quick as he pounced. "I got you this time!"

Lily sidestepped with ease, swinging her sword down in a gentle tap against his back. "No, you didn’t," she said, grinning.

On, lounging on a nearby cushion, flicked her tail. "Hong, you’re too obvious. You need to stop jumping from the same angle every time."

Hong pouted. "I do not!"

"You do," On replied flatly.

Cale sighed, sipping his tea. The heroes were out there panicking, running around in circles, trying to piece together clues that led nowhere. They were searching for an enemy hiding in the shadows.

(And here I am, sitting in broad daylight.)

It was almost amusing.

He turned another page in his book, ignoring Raon’s impatient hovering. Let the heroes scramble. Let them search. Let them fear the unknown.

Because by the time they figured it out…

It would already be too late.

Chapter Text

Cale Henituse was bored.

He leaned against the garden’s stone fountain, watching the three small figures darting around—Raon, Hong, and On—chasing butterflies and playfully tackling each other. Hans stood nearby, an exasperated yet resigned look on his face, holding a tray of fresh fruit and pastries. The sun was high, and a gentle breeze ruffled Cale’s already-messy red hair.

It should have been relaxing. But it wasn’t.

Cale sighed dramatically.

“This is so boring,” he muttered, taking another sip from the bottle of fine liquor he had ‘borrowed’ from the Henituse estate’s cellar earlier that morning. The sweet burn of alcohol warmed his throat, but even that wasn’t enough to make the day interesting. He needed something more. Something exciting. Something troublesome.

And Cale was never one to turn down trouble.

“Let’s go on an adventure,” he announced suddenly, pushing himself off the fountain’s edge.

Hans, who had been watching him warily, frowned. “Young Master, need I remind you that the last time you said those words, we ended up evading a group of bandits, fighting a crazed mage, and nearly burning down an inn?”

Cale waved a lazy hand. “Details.”

Raon, who had been floating around excitedly, perked up. “Are we going to fight bad guys?!”

Hong’s tail flicked in excitement. “Or find treasure?”

On narrowed her eyes suspiciously but remained silent. She knew better than to assume Cale had a concrete plan.

Hans sighed, already accepting his fate. “Where exactly are we going, Young Master?”

Cale stretched, feeling a slight buzz from the alcohol. “Somewhere interesting.”

And with that, he turned and started walking. The others had no choice but to follow.

They had been wandering for a while when they finally stumbled upon it.

A tower—ancient, weathered, and partially collapsed—stood hidden deep within the forest. Vines twisted around its crumbling stone walls, and an eerie silence surrounded the place. No birds chirped. No insects buzzed. Just the whisper of the wind against the broken structure.

Cale stared up at it, curiosity flickering in his otherwise indifferent gaze. “Huh.”

Hans stiffened. “Young Master… perhaps we should return.”

Cale ignored him and took a step forward.

The cats hesitated, their sharp senses alerting them to something unnatural about the place. Raon, however, flapped his wings confidently. “This place looks cool!”

Cale smirked. “Let’s check it out.”

And of course, they had no choice but to follow.

The inside of the tower was dimly lit, dust and cobwebs clinging to the stone walls. Old, tattered banners hung from the ceiling, remnants of an era long past. Broken furniture and shattered glass crunched beneath their feet as they carefully made their way upward.

“Be careful, Young Master,” Hans muttered, eyeing the weakened floorboards with suspicion.

Cale took another sip of his drink. “I am always careful.”

Hans stared at him, clearly wanting to argue but knowing it was useless.

As they climbed higher, Cale noticed strange markings on the walls—arcane symbols glowing faintly in the dim light.

“Magic?” Cale mused aloud, brushing his fingers against one of the symbols.

On’s ears twitched. “This place feels… unnatural.”

Raon flapped his wings, looking around. “There is still lingering magic here! Very old, but strong.”

Hong’s tail bristled. “Maybe we shouldn’t be here?”

Cale, ever the curious troublemaker, continued forward without hesitation.

And then it happened.

One moment, Cale was stepping forward; the next, the floor beneath him vanished.

“Ah.”

That was all he managed to say before gravity took over, and he plummeted into darkness.

“YOUNG MASTER!” Hans shouted, diving in after him without hesitation.

“HUMAN!!” Raon roared, following suit, with On and Hong right behind him.

Cale had fallen for what felt like minutes before he crashed onto something… soft?

Groaning, Cale sat up, rubbing the back of his head. His vision blurred for a moment before clearing. And when it did—

“Oh.”

Gold.

Gold everywhere.

Mountains of it. Coins, jewelry, ornate goblets encrusted with jewels, and artifacts of unimaginable wealth filled the massive underground chamber. The golden glow reflected off the walls, casting a brilliant shimmer across the room.

Hans landed beside him, coughing as he quickly scrambled to check if Cale was hurt.

“Young Master! Are you alright?”

Cale waved him off, his eyes locked onto the endless treasure before him. “Forget me. Look at this.”

Hans finally took in their surroundings and promptly froze. His mouth opened and closed several times before he let out a strangled, “What in the name of the gods…?”

Raon crashed down next, flapping his wings. “HUMAN! I WILL SAVE YOU—Oh?” His large dragon eyes widened as he took in the sheer amount of gold. “This… This is…!”

Hong and On landed gracefully, their tails flicking in awe.

Cale stood up, stretching. “Well, well, well. Seems like I found something interesting after all.”

Hans ran a hand down his face, already sensing the headache forming. “Young Master, please tell me you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking.”

Cale smirked, taking another sip from his bottle. “roan”

The dragon looked. “Yes, human?”

Cale gestured lazily at the endless mountains of gold. “Start counting.”

Raon hovered above, his eyes sparkling. “We found so much shiny golds!!”

Hong pawed at a pile of gold, letting the coins slip through his claws. “Does that mean… we’re rich?”

On flicked her tail. “Weren’t we already rich?”

As the last of the gold was secured, Raon flapped his small wings, his blue eyes shining with satisfaction. With a powerful burst of magic, he teleported them all out of the ruins, landing them safely back in the lush, moonlit garden of their hidden base.

Cale stretched his arms, feeling more satisfied than he had in days. The weight of the gold in his pockets and the sheer success of the operation had put him in an excellent mood. He ran a hand through his messy red hair, smirking as he turned toward his companions.

"Alright, you three—your pay," he said lazily, flipping a single gold coin to each of them. "Allowance. Don't spend it all in one place."

Raon caught his coin midair with his magic, spinning it around gleefully. "Human! You are truly a great and mighty person! This great and mighty dragon shall treasure this gold forever!"

On and Hong, the two cat siblings, clutched their coins with wide eyes. "Thank you, young master!" Hong chirped, tail wagging excitedly.

Cale, pleased with their reactions, turned to Hans and tossed him a small bag filled with gold. "Bonus pay. You've been useful."

Hans caught the bag and chuckled lightly, bowing slightly. "As expected of my young master. Always generous." He already knew Cale didn’t need to give them anything, but he had his own odd sense of fairness. Besides, Hans knew that Cale’s mind was already drifting toward something else—something troublesome.

And, as expected, Cale’s expression turned contemplative as he tapped his chin. "Alright. Let’s bomb it."

Hans blinked. "Pardon?"

Cale turned to Raon, his smirk widening. "Raon, make magic bombs. This will be fun."

On and Hong froze in place, their tails puffing up slightly. "Wait—bomb?" On asked cautiously.

Raon’s eyes sparkled with excitement. "Yes! I shall make the most magnificent magic bombs! We shall erase that ancient ruin from existence!"

Hans, standing by Cale’s side, merely sighed and shook his head with a smile. His young master truly was a menace. But, well—if this was what Cale wished, then so be it. His job was to support him, not question him. And honestly, after all this time, it was far too late to try to steer Cale onto a less chaotic path.

"Very well, young master," Hans said smoothly. "How large of an explosion would you like?"

Cale smirked. "Big enough to make sure no one else stumbles upon what was left behind."

Hans chuckled. "Understood."

The night was peaceful, the stars twinkling gently above them—but soon, that peace would be shattered by a magnificent explosion, a testament to Cale’s ever-growing mischief. And, as always, Hans, Raon, On, and Hong would be right there beside him, ensuring that whatever chaos Cale Henituse wished to create... would be carried out flawlessly.

Raon, with his small yet mighty form, flapped his wings excitedly as he conjured dozens of glowing, pulsating magic bombs in the air. Each one crackled with unstable energy, shifting between brilliant blues and fiery reds. His dragon instincts purred in satisfaction—destruction was an art, and he was a master of it.

"Human! Look at how magnificent these bombs are!" Raon beamed, his voice full of pride. "This great and mighty dragon has crafted each one with precision and power!"

Cale smirked, arms crossed as he surveyed the hovering bombs. "Good work, Raon. Make sure they explode dramatically. We want a real show."

Hans, ever the dutiful butler, accepted a handful of the floating bombs without hesitation. He moved with practiced efficiency, placing them strategically around the ruined magic tower, ensuring maximum destruction. Despite the absurdity of the situation, Hans remained composed. As far as he was concerned, it wasn’t his place to question his young master’s wishes—only to execute them flawlessly.

On and Hong watched in fascination, their tails flicking in excitement. "We really get to blow it up?" Hong asked, his voice filled with giddy anticipation.

Cale chuckled. "Of course. I said we’d bomb it, didn’t I?"

On’s usually calm demeanor cracked as her eyes sparkled mischievously. "It’s going to be a big explosion, right?"

"The biggest," Raon declared proudly. He fluttered over to where Cale stood, wings spread wide as he raised his small front paws. "Now! Step back! It is time for this great and mighty dragon to reduce this pathetic ruin to dust!"

Obediently, they all retreated to a safe distance, standing in the shadow of a large tree at the forest’s edge. The anticipation in the air was palpable. The magic bombs vibrated, their glow intensifying, pulsing like a dragon’s heartbeat.

Cale’s smirk grew wider. (This is going to be fun.)

With a flick of his claw, Raon activated the detonation spell.

For a split second, the world fell into absolute silence.

Then—BOOM!

The explosion was nothing short of magnificent. A blinding surge of blue and red light engulfed the magic tower, swallowing it whole. The force of the blast sent a shockwave through the forest, rattling the trees and sending birds fleeing into the night sky. The air filled with the sound of crumbling stone, the deep rumble of ancient magic being obliterated. Smoke and dust spiraled into the air in thick, curling plumes.

Cale watched, utterly enthralled. His red eyes reflected the chaos, the flames dancing within them. He felt satisfaction bloom deep in his chest as the once-grand magic tower collapsed in on itself, reduced to nothing but rubble and dust.

(That was beautiful.)

Raon was spinning in the air, delighted. "Hahaha! Did you see that? Did you see? I told you my magic bombs would be amazing! The way it crumbled—just like weak stone before a dragon’s might!"

Hong’s tail flicked wildly, his golden eyes shining. "That was the best explosion I’ve ever seen! Can we do it again?"

On, despite her usual composure, let out a satisfied hum. "It was… fun."

Hans, standing beside Cale, merely smiled. His young master was clearly pleased, and that was all that mattered. The magic tower meant nothing to him—it was an abandoned ruin, a forgotten relic of a past that no longer held relevance. If Cale wanted it gone, then so be it.

"That was quite the spectacle, young master," Hans remarked, adjusting his sleeves as if he hadn’t just participated in an act of grand destruction. "Shall we return? Or would you like to admire your handiwork a little longer?"

Cale exhaled deeply, stretching as if he had just finished a good meal. "No need. We’ve done what we came here for. Let’s head back."

Raon landed lightly on Cale’s shoulder, still beaming with pride. "Human, you have the best ideas! This was a glorious use of my power!"

Cale simply patted Raon’s head, his smirk never fading. (A good explosion. A good night. And even more gold in my pockets. Not a bad day at all.)

As the group turned away from the smoldering remains of the tower, the forest behind them was left to whisper its own tales of the destruction that had just taken place. The stars above twinkled in amusement, as if bearing silent witness to the birth of another legend—a tale of a villain who found joy in chaos, accompanied by his ever-loyal companions, each of them just as willing to embrace his madness.

Chapter Text

Back at the estate, the atmosphere in Cale's room was one of rare tranquility. The soft glow of candlelight flickered against the polished wooden walls, casting warm shadows over the room’s occupants. The faint scent of honey and chamomile filled the air, mingling with the crisp scent of old parchment and leather-bound books.

Hans stood dutifully by Cale’s bedside, hands neatly folded in front of him, his ever-watchful gaze occasionally shifting between the young master and the room’s other occupants. His role as a butler extended far beyond simple service—he was, after all, one of Cale’s most trusted aides. He was well aware of Cale’s mischief, his love for chaos, and the calculated mind that lurked beneath the guise of a lazy noble. And yet, despite everything, Hans had long since accepted his fate. If his young master wished to read in peace, then peace he would have.

Cale, meanwhile, was comfortably seated against a mound of pillows, a heavy book resting on his lap. His crimson eyes flicked lazily over the text, absorbing knowledge with an ease that many would envy. His fingers idly traced the rim of his honey tea cup, warmth seeping into his skin as he took another slow sip. A deep sense of satisfaction filled him—money, explosions, and a successful ruin raid. The day had been fruitful.

On the bed beside him, curled up like content kittens, were Hong and On. The two cat tribe siblings were tucked beneath the soft blankets, their chests rising and falling in the rhythm of sleep. Every now and then, a quiet purr would escape from Hong, his tail twitching in the middle of a dream. On, though still as ever, had her ears perked slightly, as if even in sleep she remained somewhat alert. It was an old habit neither could shake, a remnant of their past struggles.

Perched atop Cale’s head, Raon was fast asleep, his small, chubby body rising and falling with each soft breath. His tiny wings twitched now and then, as if dreaming of soaring through the skies. Cale didn’t mind the weight of the baby dragon—by now, he was used to it. Besides, if there was one thing Raon excelled at besides magic and destruction, it was napping in the most inconvenient places.

Across the room, seated comfortably on the couch, Basen was engrossed in a book of his own. His brow was slightly furrowed in concentration, his fingers flipping through the pages at a steady pace. The young noble had long since developed a habit of reading whenever he had the chance, refining his knowledge in matters both political and strategic. He, like his elder brother, was preparing for the future—though his methods were far more conventional than Cale’s reckless schemes.

Lily sat nearby, diligently cleaning her sword with practiced movements. The soft sound of cloth against metal filled the room as she ensured her blade was in pristine condition. Her determination was unwavering; she had vowed to become strong, to wield her sword in protection of those she cared for. Though she was still young, her spirit was fierce, and her admiration for Cale was evident in every action she took. She liked listening to his plans, even if she didn’t fully understand the depths of his strategies. To her, Cale was someone worth following.

The entire scene was one of pure serenity, an unspoken understanding lingering between them all. They had all chosen to stand beside Cale, to follow his lead regardless of the path he walked. Whether it was a quiet evening like this or another day filled with madness, they knew one thing for certain—wherever Cale Henituse went, chaos was sure to follow.

For now, however, they would enjoy this peace. Because knowing Cale, it wouldn’t last for long.

Basen: "...You guys did something, didn’t you?"

Cale: cough "H–huh?…"

Lily: "Yeah, where did you guys go?"

Hans: "Just… somewhere…"

Basen: "…Right. Please explain?"

Cale and Hans exchanged glances. There was no getting out of this. Basen’s sharp gaze bore into them, and even Lily had stopped cleaning her sword, eyes narrowed with suspicion. The room’s peaceful atmosphere shifted slightly, curiosity and tension replacing the previous calm.

Cale sighed dramatically, closing his book with a soft thud. "Fine, fine. Hans, you tell them."

Hans, ever the loyal butler, merely nodded before recounting the tale. He spoke of the ruined magic tower they had found, how Cale had—completely accidentally, of course—stumbled into a chamber filled with treasure. He explained how they had retrieved the gold, how Raon had helped them escape, and, finally, how they had decided to… well, blow up the remains for good measure.

Silence followed his words.

Then—

Lily: "No fair! You could have gotten hurt! And I should have been there! It would have been fun for us too!"

Her voice held a mix of frustration and excitement, the idea of adventure thrilling her. She crossed her arms, huffing in disappointment, glaring at Cale. "Next time, take me with you!"

Basen, however, merely let out a long, weary sigh, shaking his head.

Basen: "Hans… you let Hyung do that?" His voice was filled with exasperation. "You threw your sense of moral out the window, didn’t you? But sure, at least you guys had your fun."

Hans gave an innocent smile, as if to say, What else was I supposed to do? Cale was Cale—when he decided to do something, not even logic could stop him.

Cale smirked, sipping his tea once more. "Of course, we had fun. You all should have been there—it was quite the spectacle."

Basen pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don’t even want to ask how much damage you left behind."

Cale grinned, feigning innocence. "Who, me?"

The heroes had finally located the ruined magic tower. Choi Han, Ron, Beacrox, and Lock stood at the base of the ancient structure, its once-glorious form now nothing more than crumbling stone and shattered remnants of magical engravings. They had explored a bit, taking note of its eerie silence, before deciding to leave and return later with Rosalyn and Alberu to conduct a more thorough investigation.

However, just as they were making their way back, a deafening explosion echoed through the air, sending a powerful shockwave in all directions. The ground trembled beneath their feet, and a plume of smoke and dust rose high into the sky. The blast came from behind them—the very direction of the ruined magic tower they had just left.

"What was that?!" Rosalyn's eyes widened in alarm as she turned sharply toward the source of the explosion.

Choi Han was already moving. Without hesitation, he dashed toward the ruins, his instincts screaming that something was very wrong. Ron followed at a more measured pace, his sharp eyes scanning their surroundings for any sign of movement. Beacrox and Lock moved swiftly behind them, each preparing for the worst.

When they arrived at the site of the explosion, they froze.

The magic tower was gone.

Not destroyed in the usual sense—not reduced to mere rubble—but utterly and completely gone, as if it had vanished into thin air. The ground where it once stood was scorched and cracked, with nothing left but faint traces of magical energy lingering in the air. The surrounding trees had been blown back, their leaves singed and their trunks splintered by the force of the blast.

Rosalyn stepped forward, her eyes narrowing as she cast a detection spell. The residue of magic still hung thick in the air, remnants of an incredibly powerful and concentrated force.

“This wasn’t just destruction,” she muttered, kneeling down to examine the charred ground. “This was deliberate. Someone knew exactly what they were doing.”

Choi Han frowned, his grip tightening around the hilt of his sword. “But who?”

Beacrox’s gaze swept over the area with cold precision, his expression unreadable. “A magic bomb of this scale… not just anyone could pull it off.”

Lock, standing nearby, bent down and picked something up from the dirt. “Uh… guys.” He held up a single, gleaming gold coin, barely tarnished despite the explosion.

Rosalyn immediately took it from him, examining it closely. “A gold coin? Why is this here?”

Ron finally spoke, his voice calm yet carrying an underlying sharpness. “It could be a message… or a mistake.”

Choi Han’s jaw clenched. “Or a taunt.”

They all fell into silence, the implications settling over them like a heavy weight. The explosion had erased the magic tower without a trace, leaving nothing but destruction and this single coin. Whoever had done this was powerful, calculated, and completely unafraid of drawing attention to their actions.

Rosalyn ran her fingers over the coin’s surface. “Whoever they are, they’re skilled enough to obliterate an entire magic tower without leaving substantial evidence behind. That’s not something to take lightly.”

Choi Han exhaled sharply. “Then we find out who did this.”

Ron nodded, a knowing gleam in his eyes. “Indeed.”

The ruined magic tower was no longer the focus of their investigation. Now, their true objective had shifted. Someone had blown it up, and whoever they were, they had just made themselves a threat.

(The gold coin was actually just something that Cale accidentally drop and didn't notice)

Chapter Text

The afternoon sun bathed the estate's garden in a soft golden hue, its warm rays glinting off the leaves and petals of the carefully tended flowers. A gentle breeze swayed the tall grass and carried the laughter of children across the peaceful grounds.

Cale Henituse sat beneath the shade of a large tree, his back comfortably reclined against the trunk, a thick leather-bound book opened in his lap. His red hair shimmered faintly in the sunlight, a rare moment of peace etched onto his otherwise calculating face. One hand held the book, while the other stirred a cup of warm honey tea that sat on a tray beside him. Hans stood faithfully nearby, ready to refill his cup or bring another book at a moment’s notice.

Lily was across the field, gracefully practicing her sword techniques. Her blade shimmered as it caught the light, slicing through the air with precision and increasing strength. Her brows were furrowed in focus, yet there was a faint smile on her lips. Just beyond her, Raon, Hong, and On were tumbling through the garden, chasing butterflies, picking wildflowers, and giggling like children without a care in the world.

(They really do act like kids when they’re out here... No one would guess they were part of an underground rebellion. Hah.)

Cale’s gaze softened slightly as he watched them, but his attention soon returned to the book in his lap. The pages were yellowed with age, filled with strange symbols and dense writing. It was a journal of sorts—one that spoke of something called “ancient powers.” The term struck a chord within him. Not because it was unfamiliar, but because of the potential it hinted at.

(Ancient powers... They're more than just myth, aren’t they? I’ve seen the destruction modern magic can bring—but this... this feels like something else entirely.)

He turned another page, eyes scanning the intricate text.

“Hey, Hans,” Cale said lazily, without taking his eyes off the book.

“Yes, Young Master?” Hans replied smoothly, stepping closer.

“Have you ever heard of ancient powers? The kind that existed before the current magical theories were even formed?”

Hans blinked, then glanced at the title of the book. “Only in scattered tales, Young Master. They’re said to be remnants of the world’s primal energy. Dangerous, elusive... often cursed.”

“Cursed, huh?” Cale’s lips twitched into a faint smirk. “That just makes them more interesting.”

(After all, nothing worth having comes without risk.)

“Basen,” Cale called out toward the lounging figure on the garden couch, “you read too much. You come across anything about this?”

Basen looked up from his own book, one brow raised. “Ancient powers? I’ve seen mentions of them in old economic records. Sometimes kingdoms would rise or fall almost overnight, and the cause was always labeled as ‘divine intervention’ or ‘unexplained magic.’”

(So there are traces… but only in whispers and rumors. Perfect. That means it’s powerful enough to be hidden.)

Cale hummed thoughtfully, closing the book with a soft thud.

“Well, that seals it. I want to find one.”

Hans blinked. “Find... an ancient power?”

Cale smiled, eyes gleaming with that familiar dangerous glint. “Of course. What else am I going to do in this boring peaceful estate?”

From where she was practicing, Lily sheathed her sword and jogged over, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. “Did you say something about ancient powers? Count me in!”

“You don’t even know what they are,” Basen said dryly, standing and stretching as he placed a bookmark in his novel.

“I don’t care,” Lily huffed. “If Oppa is going, then I’m going too. Besides, I need a challenge.”

(They’re all too eager for trouble… but that’s what makes them perfect.)

Raon, hearing the rising excitement, zipped over in a flash of black scales and childlike glee. “Are we going on an adventure?! I’ll make us flying shields again!”

“NO,” Cale said immediately, recalling the last time Raon tried that and nearly turned him into a pancake.

Hong and On skidded to a stop beside Raon, flower crowns on their heads. “Adventure?” they asked in sync.

“Maybe,” Cale replied, brushing a leaf from his sleeve. “But first, we need to gather information. Hans, get me everything we have on lost ruins, forbidden libraries, or forgotten lands mentioned in old family records.”

“Yes, Young Master.” Hans bowed respectfully and immediately took out a small notepad to jot it down.

The sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the garden. But for Cale, the light of discovery had just begun to burn.

(If I can find an ancient power... the kind the heroes would never understand... then reshaping the world won’t just be a dream. It’ll be inevitable.)

He took another slow sip of his honey tea and closed his eyes for a brief moment. Around him, the sound of children playing, blades slicing air, and pages turning continued like a soft, familiar melody.

It was peaceful. Serene.

And yet, beneath that tranquility...

...the next storm was already forming.

The scent of damp stone and old parchment filled the air as they descended deeper into the forgotten underground library that Raon had stumbled upon during one of his curious magical searches. The stone staircase creaked with ancient weight, vines crawling over its edges, as if the forest above had tried to reclaim this place long ago. Cale was the first to step onto the worn marble floor, the air thick with dust and the silence deafening.

(An underground library… Abandoned, hidden, and untouched for centuries. Just the kind of place that keeps secrets the world forgot.)

Raon flew beside him, tail swaying with excitement, his eyes glowing with unfiltered curiosity. "Human! This place is amazing! There's magic in the air! Old magic! Ancient!"

Cale gave a nod, eyes already scanning the surrounding bookshelves that stood crooked and decayed with time. Hans lit a lantern and followed closely, holding it high as its glow reached the faded titles on the spines. Basen adjusted his gloves before stepping forward, while Lily strode in confidently, her sword strapped at her hip, a faint gleam in her eyes as she took in the grand atmosphere.

On and Hong were already darting between shelves with childlike delight, occasionally pausing to paw at a book or sniff at something odd.

“Careful,” Cale muttered, more to himself than anyone else, but Hans still let out a soft chuckle beside him.

“I don’t think anything in here’s been disturbed for centuries, young master.”

Cale didn’t respond. His gaze had already locked onto a massive book at the center pedestal—its leather cover cracked, but the golden symbol on it still gleamed faintly under the dust. He approached it without hesitation.

(The center of the room, the most protected position… This one was important.)

As he flipped open the book, the pages creaked like an old man’s joints. The ink had faded in places, but Cale’s eyes danced quickly across the script. He was a fast reader—one of his many subtle talents. Every word he took in was locked away into his mind like a flawless record.

Hans stayed by his side, holding the lantern higher. “What’s it about, young master?”

Cale didn’t answer at first. His eyes narrowed slightly.

“Symbols,” he finally said. “Ancient power, but not like the ones we know. These… these are represented by mythological figures. Like gods and goddesses.”

Lily looked up from her sword-checking, blinking. “Like Greek gods?”

Basen furrowed his brows. “But those are stories… even in the ancient books I’ve read, nothing ever mentioned powers connected to them.”

Cale flipped another page. More symbols. Zeus. Artemis. Hades. Apollo. Athena. Their names written in different variations of languages, all pointing to something more than divine representation.

“No,” Cale murmured. “Not just stories. Look at this. Each power manifests with a trait... Lightning for Zeus. Wisdom and war for Athena. The sun and healing for Apollo. These powers are fragments. And they’re dangerous.”

He tapped a line with his finger, his expression unreadable.

“If a person manages to obtain more than one… They die instantly.”

That sentence made the whole room fall silent.

Hans inhaled sharply. “What kind of power kills its own wielder?”

“The kind that’s too much for a single soul to contain,” Basen replied softly, his eyes now fixed on the page as well. “If even one is powerful enough to change history, two would crush the person.”

Cale leaned back slightly, thoughtful. (Power fragmented into symbols of gods... scattered across the world. No wonder no one’s found them. They weren’t meant to be found.)

“Does it say where they are?” Lily asked, walking over with On and Hong padding at her heels.

Cale shook his head. “It says finding one is nearly impossible. They were sealed, scattered. Some in cursed lands, others deep within otherworldly realms.”

Raon floated closer, peering down at the book. “Do you want to find one, human?”

Cale smiled faintly, lips curling like a cat planning mischief. “Curiosity is a dangerous thing, Raon.”

“But you’re already thinking about it,” Hans muttered under his breath, though he was smiling too. He had long given up on expecting Cale to avoid trouble.

Cale closed the book carefully. “We copy this. Every page. Every line. Basen, you handle that. Hans, find anything else that mentions divine symbols or seals. Lily—check the shelves for anything with the same crest on the cover.”

The room moved. Like gears clicking into place.

(If this is real… If these powers exist… then someone will find them eventually. And if not me, then someone far worse.)

He didn’t speak that thought aloud. But the heaviness in his gaze said enough.

Meanwhile, On and Hong were whispering to each other near a pile of dusty scrolls. Lily had drawn her sword and was carefully pushing aside broken wood to check for hidden compartments. Basen was already taking out paper and ink.

Raon perched on a beam high above and scanned the room for magical fluctuations. His tail flicked once. “There’s still magic sleeping here… lots of it.”

“Good,” Cale murmured. “Let’s wake it up.”