Secrets and the Duke Departure.

Otherside of city.

Beyond the ruins on the periphery of Silver City, there was movement in the shadows under the pale, dying moon.

The ground there was lost to time — ancient stone consumed by centuries, vines writ across fractured archways, runes so worn that even the boldest scholars were wary of getting them wrong. The air was quiet, too quiet — the kind that was almost un-natural.

Three individuals stood amidst a half-destroyed courtyard. They were dressed in cumbersome black cloaks with deep hoods that could cover their faces, the very contours of their bodies hidden by magic. The tallest person among them held a grand staff of obsidian-black wood that glowed with blue veins of mana — like a stream of living water coursing through its surface.

The one to her left broke the silence, voice low and impatient. "We still haven't found the artifact, Priestess. We've searched every known chamber."

Her tone was sharp, anxious, but the Priestess did not turn. She stood still as stone, her gaze fixed upon the glowing moon above.

"We shall have to find it," she told him—her voice calm, but with an undercurrent of desperate quiet. "We must. The alignment occurs tomorrow, and as the prophecy spoke, the husband of our Goddess shall come tomorrow. Our Goddess needs her husband to be awakened. We must be ready to take him in, bring him to our goddess."

"But time is running—

She was interrupted in mid-sentence by a low vibration that ran through the rubble. The earth cracked and groaned. A part of the wall to their side gave way with a deafening roar, crumbling into a cloud of dust and stone rubble.

"Back!" the priestess cried, spinning round.

The third figure, the closest to the falling wall, had just managed to get out of the way. He coughed once, brushing stone dust from his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" the priestess demanded, striding forward in a hurry.

"I'm fine," she spoke softly. Then, a moment later, he gestured into the fresh gap. "But I found something. See."

Behind the shroud of dust, a hidden way had been exposed — an earthen stairway hewn straight out of the ground, concealed for centuries by stone and deception. The doorway gaped like the mouth of something, dark and ominous, the musty smell of stagnant air and wet stone pouring from inside.

The eyes of the priestess grew wide.

She drew out an old parchment within her robes, the faded ink on it brittle. She looked over the drawings — a map, symbols from long ago — before refocusing on the stairwell, gasping.

"This is it," she breathed. "The sealed chamber… exactly as written in the scroll of prophecy."

She took a step forward, her staff vibrating with energy as she called up a shimmering orb of blue light. The orb floated before them, throwing their shadows long and grotesque down the stairs.

"Come," she said. "We don't have long."

The three of them went down.

The air became colder by degrees, and the rock at their feet seemed alive — throb-bing weakly with ancient magic, as if the stairwell itself had once been fashioned by the divine. Bizarre runes pulsed up and down the walls, softly glowing, responding to the presence of the priestess.

No one said anything. The words would only ring down the tunnel and draw attention to what was at its best unobserved.

At last they came to the bottom.

The room in front of them was enormous — a stone cathedral buried under the ground. Moss stuck to the corners, shards of ancient bone scattered around the edges, and a thin fog hovered just above the floor.

But what every eye was pulled towards was the whirlpool hovering in the air.

A whirling chakra, suspended motionless as a thunderstorm suspended in time, hung over a large circular dais. It pulsed a deep blue-white, whirling silently. The chakra was separated into four precise quadrants, creating an intricate shape of balance and merging. In each quadrant, an empty space — the form of a closed fist — stood waiting for something… something that had yet to be there.

The air was warm and chilly all at once, a contradiction that seemed to breathe.

The priestess kneeled; her staff dropped.

"It's real," she said, reverence weighing her voice. "The Divine Artifact of Balance."

Her two friends stood stock, but they too kneeled and looking in wonder.

She slowly arose once more, her gaze never veering away from the whirling chakra above. "As foretold by the prophecy… for the Goddess arises, this whirling chakra – The Divine Artifact of Balance must be held by her chosen husband as prophesied — the one born beyond fate, with the mark of multiplicity — shall emerge to release the sealed power."

The left figure leaned in, whispering, "And you still think this 'husband' of the Goddess will show up tomorrow night?"

"I don't think," the priestess replied. "I know. All roads have converged on this point. Even the stars are in agreement."

She came around to face them, at last, her hood shadowing her face. Underneath, her face wavered between calm joy and hidden desperation.

"The husband of our goddess is in motion already. The threads are closing in. He is attracted here… and when the moment arrives, this artifact goes to its rightful home."

There was a beat of silence, dense and anticipatory.

Then the priestess turned to the chakra once more and spoke quietly to herself:

"Let him be drawn to us… our goddess does not wait any longer."

Behind her, the other two looked at each other. The air was thick with tension between belief and fear.

They were almost there.

And tomorrow, it would all be different.

-----------------------------------------------------

Morning in Galvia came in its gentle way. The sky above the Moonwalker Mansion painted itself peach and rose, clouds parting like curtains as golden sunlight swept through the kingdom. Birds chirped in the orchard far away, their music a soft counterpoint to the rustling leaves carried by the wind.

Within the master chamber of the mansion, the air was filled with the lingering aroma of roses and lavender — trace of the passion of the previous night. The bed, no longer a bundle of bodies and silk, was now in perfect order, but the faint outline of bodies remained on the pillows.

Leon sat close by the large arched window, already attired in a gentle golden – white robe, wet tangles of hair streaking his cheek. Morning light bathed him as he sat cross-legged on the velvet sofa, a cup of steaming tea untouched on the low table beside him. His keen golden eyes ranged over a great map spread out across the low table before him.

The Moonwalker Duchy map was spread out before him — its black lines detailing all from the twisting rivers and planted fields to the untamed, wooded areas bordering the fringes. His golden eyes squinted in focus, a tiny furrow creasing his brow as he followed the curve of Silver City, which sat on the duchy's eastern border, against a huge woodland called the Silver Forest.

Red ink ringed numerous areas — some safe, others shaded and identified as danger. His eyes stayed on the thick green area just north of the duchy — an area designated with no name, but a sigil for "Restricted." Even within his duchy, there were areas he knew too little about.

With an annoyed exhale, Leon rolled the map halfway back and drew out another from a leather-bound pack. This one had the insignia of the Moonstone Kingdom — the kingdom to which his duchy was subject. At the center of the kingdom lay Moonspire, the shining capital within a circle of mountains and lakes, a natural stronghold. At the kingdom's perimeter were three strong duchies — creating a triangular border: Moonwalker Duchy, Starlight Duchy, and Nova Duchy.

Leon's fingers drummed his duchy's location — on the southern edge, close to the edge kingdom border, where wilderness pushed too near and politics tended to be tenuous. "So remote," he grumbled. "It would make sense. fewer supervisors, greater enigma."

But this national map wasn't sufficient either.

He unfurled another scroll — a large map of Galvia, the continent as a whole.

His breath caught a little.

The Five Prohibited Forests were ringed in foreboding black ink, every one set at strategic points like an anchor. Four were buried deep in the lands of Galvia's Great Empires — each clothed in legend and hidden behind potent spells. The fifth stood alone — situated at the intersection of five sovereign kingdoms, including his own Moonstone Kingdom. The forest abutted:

• Moonstone Kingdom

• Skyfall Kingdom

• Velloree Kingdom

• Duskhorn Kingdom

• Norgren Kingdom

An ideal meeting point, as if the continent itself had attempted to erase the forest from its memory by encasing it in politics.

Leon moved in closer, furrowed brow, eyes darting between borders and landmarks. "Why are these forests labeled forbidden? What's inside this forest that incites such fear?"

And then, he recalled.

A gentle mechanical chime resonated in his head — the System's voice, still enigmatic even now. Several weeks ago, when he first arrived in this new world, the system provided him with forbidden knowledge about Galvia and casually mentioned the Forbidden Forests — only to immediately caution him:

[Access Denied. Warning: Don't enter any forbidden forest unless host reaches Monarch Realm or above. Low cultivation to control Host high chance of death. Host shouldn't pursue further knowledge at present stage.]

That memory came back with piercing clarity, causing Leon's back to straighten.

"The system didn't provide me with the full knowledge," he thought. "It doesn't want me to know yet… because my low-level."

He clicked tongue and sighed. "System won't tell me what is inside—until certain level," he grumbled. "So… I will have to discover myself."

Yet, curiosity gnawed within him. The maps, the secrets, the silence. It was like the stories — the old fantasy books he had read in his previous life. He remembered the shows, anime, and sagas where the hero, frail and outnumbered, discovered a forbidden place — and in it, unimaginable power. Perilous trials, forgotten legacies, ancient spirits…

His heart accelerated.

"If I go there…" he mused, eyes shining softly, "can I become even more overwhelmed? Can so-called danger points in this world be my shortcut…?"

For an instant, he became lost in the idea.

Just as his thoughts wandered further into conjecture, the soft snap of an opened door returned him to reality.

Aria entered, shining and serene. She had a flowing, diaphanous gown of royal purple and white, its silver lilies and twining vinework embroidered with skillful hand. Her amethyst-hued hair caught the light. Her eyes, heavy with sleep but radiant with love, sought his.

She rolled a breakfast cart towards him, silver tray shining in the morning sun. His mind — of taboo forests, secret power, and pending mysteries — dispersed like dust in sunlight.

With a silent smile, he moved the maps out of the way, clearing room on the table just as she came to his side. She smiled back at him, her poise effortless as she set down the delicate porcelain before him: warm, buttered bread still steaming, a bowl of sweet pear porridge smelling of spices, and two cups of pale moonberry tea, their steam uncurling in tender tendrils.

She sat next to Leon, her gown draping around her in soft folds, each movement poised yet intimate.

"You could have had the maids do it," Leon murmured, low with laughter.

"I know," Aria said, a gentle laugh escaping her. "But I… I wanted to cook for you."

Her eyes contained nothing but warmth — and love that did not need words. Leon smiled, his chest tightening with tender affection.

"You're spoiling me now," he murmured, leaning in to place a slow, tender kiss on her cheek. "But Thank – You, for spiling me."

Her smile deepened, and her gaze never left his. "Eat before it gets cold, husband."

And so they did — eating breakfast in quiet repose. The connection between them was silent, consistent, profound. Beyond the window, the sun rose higher, pouring warm gold across stone floor and illuminating their teacups like a benediction.

As the final bite disappeared, Leon stood up, straightening his shoulders. Serenity coursed through him, but beneath it, a vibration hummed — a feeling of purpose that had burrowed deep into his bones.

"Time to go out," he said.

Aria's brows narrowed, concern flashing across her face. "Leon… I still think you should take a few guards with you.

He breathed with a small smile. "Aria, it isn't a raid. Just a training excursion. I am quicker alone."

She made a thin-lipped face, not believing him. "You always say that."

"I'll be okay," he told her. "If I'm not back at night, perhaps I'm merely stuck in a spar that runs into dawn."

She touched his cheek with light fingers. "That's not funny."

Leon caught her hand gently. "I'll come back in one piece. Don't worry."

She studied him quietly, gaze serious, then nodded. She understood — he had to go. It was who he was. But that didn't make it easier.

"Then be safe. And come back quickly."

"I will," he promised.

She stepped closer, resting her head against his chest. "Just don't get excited and try to punch a power beast, alright?"

Leon smiled. "No guarantee."

He walked towards the distant other side of the room. There, a towering mahogany bookshelf rested against the wall — unrummaged, unless one knew where to look. From the inherited recollections of the previous Duke — the man he used to be — Leon knew precisely what to do.

His fingertips swept over a familiar spine: a blue-bound book called "An Empire's Veins." He withdrew it halfway.

Click.

The bookshelf creaked. A gentle grinding ensued, and with a low rumble, the shelf drew to one side, disclosing a secret passage hewn of ancient stone and lined with softly radiating runes set deep within the walls.

This was one of the Duke's old secrets — a private route known only to a trusted few. The corridor led to two hidden exits: one near the city center, the other skirting the edge of the distant forest.

Aria stepped forward, eyes wide with quiet confusion.

"You're using this way?" Aria asked.

Leon nodded. "I want this journey to stay secret. This is the best way — no eyes, no questions."

She looked at him a moment longer, then gave a small nod. She knew — as Duke, there were times he had to move quietly, unseen. This was one of those times.

Her expression sobered once more. "So… no one will know you've left… Huh?"

"That's the idea."

Aria took a step closer again; her palms together. "Then be careful, sweetheart… and return soon."

He leaned in, touching his lips to hers in a whisper of a kiss. "You as well. Don't work too hard. And be sure the house doesn't catch fire in my absence." He delivered the latter statement with gentle chuckle.

She provided a weak laugh, "Don't worry about, I will not." but it did not conceal the concern in her eyes.

"I'll be back before you know it."

Leon went to the passage and stepped through. As soon as he passed through the doorway; the bookshelf started moving back into position.

Aria waited until the door clicked closed.

For a very long time, she remained still.

And then, in a voice barely audible by the still morning, she whispered,

"Be safe."