Emperor's Reckoning



Outside the gate, Rui, the mythical beast Moon Hare, known for her daring and nurturing nature, turned to Selena and asked, "Who is the owner of this traveling library?"

Selena glanced at the impressive structure and replied, "Maria's father. His name is so ancient, even he seems to have forgotten it."

Cecile chimed in with a mischievous grin, "Lyon is meeting his father-in-law," and stifled a giggle.

Kesya's sharp ears twitched, and she turned her head in a specific direction. Her keen senses caught something intriguing, and a sly smirk played on her lips. "Looks like she's a stubborn one."

Karina followed Kesya's gaze and soon spotted a lone silhouette emerging from the distant horizon.

The figure that approached turned out to be Yala. Her face was a mix of awe and fascination as she looked at the imposing hovering door.

"I thought you would rest for the day," Cecile remarked as if she had already anticipated Yala's arrival.

"With a little luck and determination, I managed to track you," Yala replied, her eyes catching a faint glimmer from the meadow under the radiant sun. It was elusive, but her trained eye managed to catch it when others couldn't. She continued, "I have to say, masking it under the light of the sun is pretty ingenious."

"Where's your angry mob?" Kesya asked with a grin.

Yala replied, "Since any of you dared to offend me then those mobs would appear as mere corpses in your eyes, I don't want unnecessary bloodshed."

"Finally, someone with worthy perceptions for once," commented Cecile, approaching Yala. Her figure was tall and imposing, but her lips carried a smirk. "So, what now, Princess Yala?"

"I'm curious, you are all a mixed-odd group," Yala smiled, her eyes scanning the group but searching for someone in particular. "Though, my eyes seem to not catch on your leader."

"You can fairly guess where he is," said Cecile with a knowing smile as she turned around and looked at the double door.

Yala approached the door, her curiosity piqued. "Is that the traveling library? The Compendium?" She then realized, "So that's what the tome is about, to summon The Compendium..."

Frowning, she flew over, determined to investigate further. It was her right to enter the place, not theirs, especially not his.

Karina tried to warn her, but Kesya stopped her.

As Yala approached the door, she was suddenly met with a repelling force, which pushed her away several feet.

Kesya caught her, preventing her from further disgrace. "Easy there, princess. No need to rush; he will come out."

"Thank you," said the princess. "Though it should have been me, and not him."

"I have to praise you. You remain calm even around thieves," said Cecile from below as she watched both Kesya and Yala descend.

"Tendency of a true princess. I was made aware of politics, blood, trades, and a lot more ever since I could read," said Yala, her words tinged with a hint of pride.

"Is that why you still wear the mask even though everyone knows your identity?" asked Selena.

Yala smiled, her eyes carrying a mix of determination and vulnerability, "Things are just... better this way."

"But you didn't even bother to change the mask?" asked Karina, concern lacing her words.

"I need you all to know who I am," Yala replied, her gaze flicking towards the door. "But the world doesn't need to."

"Tell me, why is he so adamant about going in there?" Yala continued, her eyes now searching for answers.

"Private matters," Cecile responded, her smile holding both a hint of secrecy and understanding.

Meanwhile, inside the library. The old man was looking at the panicked Lyon with his thoughts unreadable.

Lyon furrowed his brows. He could no longer feel the presence of the four that were always around him. He was in danger, especially noticing how chaotic the place was. 

"What do you want?" asked Lyon with his shoulders tensed.

"Do you know Maria?" asked the old man. "Leave her, she is safer with me than with you." The old man immediately felt the twitching rage brimming behind Lyon's eyes.

"Old man," Lyon's cold voice silenced the realm and black blade wielded by his hand. He pointed it at him. "Is she here?"

"Drop it, you'll lose," said the old man. "Without your ghosts, you're nothing. Furthermore, you are no longer at the peak of cultivation like you once were."

Lyon's grip on the blade tightened, his knuckles turning white. He wasn't in the mood for games or threats. He needed answers, and he needed them now.

"Where is she?" Lyon demanded, his voice filled with an urgency that brooked no argument. "Tell me, or nobody is left to clean this place."

The old man furrowed his brows, "Give up on her, with the way things stand, you can't protect her."

"Ngh?!" the old man clutched his chest. His heart panged against the ribs viciously. He looked at Lyon with a grim look. "Tch! Pesky bloodline!"

"WHERE IS SHE?!" Lyon leaped forward but the old man clawed forward shoving a magic brand formed on his palm in his direction. A gust of mighty wind repulsed Lyon in an instant, pushing him against the wall. The ever-flowing wind kept him etched on the wall whilst the old man approached him calmly.

(Damn it I can't move!!) thought Lyon as his limbs were locked by the gust of wind from the old man's palm.

"So weak..." said the old man with a scowl. "Huh?" he was slightly taken back the moment he met his gaze. A gaze of fury, hatred, and budding strength was behind those eyes. He sighed and the magic brand dimmed by his intent.

Lyon fell to the ground but quickly got up and tried to retaliate. 

"Enough!" the old man said whilst grabbing the bladed by his bare hand. "She's not here, Lyon."

Lyon softened in shock before he pulled his blade away. "Then where is she?"

"I don't know, but I intend to search for her," said the old man as the images of his daughter emerged.

"Who are you?" asked Lyon. "Stop playing games with me old man."

"I am... your father," said the old man. 

Lyon furrowed his brows before smirking, "Then I'm your grandfather." 

The old man sighed, he opened his palm again and slammed Lyon to the wall with another gust of wind.