## Liam''s Perspective
"Before we discuss anything else, I''m starving," The Man with the Mustache announced, patting his stomach dramatically. "A man of my talents requires proper nourishment."
I gritted my teeth. Isabelle was in danger, and this guy wanted lunch.
"There''s no time for—"
"There''s always time for food," he interrupted, raising a finger. "Besides, my information isn''t free. Consider a good meal the down payment."
Arguing with him was pointless. I''d learned that the hard way.
"Fine," I conceded, pulling out my phone. "I''ll call Eamon."
Twenty minutester, we sat in Eamon''s private dining room. Sofia hovered nearby, her distaste for The Man with the Mustache evident in her tight smile.
"More dumplings!" he shouted, mouth already full. "And bring another bottle of that excellent wine!"
Sofia''s eye twitched. "Sir, that''s a three-hundred-year-old vintage—"
"Which is why it''s so delicious!" He grinned, crumbs caught in his mustache. "Chop chop!"
She shot me a look that could melt steel before stalking away.
Eamon leaned toward me. "Liam, who exactly is this... gentleman?"
"Someone who might help save Isabelle," I whispered back.
The Man with the Mustache belched loudly. "The food here has improved since myst visit. Mypliments to the chef!"
"You''ve been here before?" Eamon asked, surprised.
"Many times, under many names." He winked. "Your great-grandfather served an excellent roast duck."
Eamon blinked. "My great-grandfather died sixty years ago."
"Did he? Time flies!" He stuffed another dumpling into his mouth.
I cleared my throat. "You promised information about the tombs."
"All business, this one," he said to Eamon, then turned to me. "Yes, yes. The three great tombs. But first, is there anything else you need my expertise on?"
Something clicked in my mind.
"Actually, yes. I need to show you something... someone."
---
Evelyn Nortony motionless on the hospital bed, her skin pale as moonlight. The steady beep of monitors provided the only sign she was alive.
"She''s been like this for a month," I exined as The Man with the Mustache examined her with surprising seriousness. "I summoned a Dragon Spirit to help defeat an enemy, but something went wrong. The spirit possessed her instead."
He stroked his mustache thoughtfully. "Dragon Spirit, you say?"
"Yes. It called itself the guardian of something... the Eternal me, I think."
His eyes widened slightly. "Interesting." <b ss="story-note-vis">Find thе sоurсе оf this сhаptеr аt М|V|L-ЕМРYR.</b>
"Do you know something?"
He paced around the bed. "I may have read something about this in an ancient text. The possession of mortal vessels by immortal guardians..."
"Can you help her?" I asked, hope rising in my chest.
"Perhaps." He tapped his chin. "Let me think on it. The solution escapes me at the moment, but it mighte back. Memory isn''t what it used to be after nine hundred years."
I almostughed, thinking he was joking. His expression remained serious.
"In the meantime," he continued, "we should focus on yourdy love. The tombs await, and time is precious."
"Where''s the first one?" I asked as we left the hospital.
"Central ins," he replied. "A ce with a dark history. Very dark indeed."
---
The vige, if you could call it that, was nothing but rubble and overgrown foundations. Not a living soul for miles. Yet the air felt heavy, oppressive, as if the very atmosphere was saturated with something unseen.
"What happened here?" I asked, my skin crawling with unease.
The Man with the Mustache stood at the edge of what must have been the vige square. "Mass sacrifice, about six hundred years ago. An emperor ordered an entire vige killed to appease what he believed was an angry god."
"How many died?"
"Three thousand, two hundred and forty-one souls." He spoke with unusual solemnity. "Men, women, children... all ughtered in a single day."
I stared at the empty space. "And this is one of the tombs you mentioned?"
"Not exactly a tomb," he rified. "More like a grave-pit. The entire vige is one massive grave, and the dark energy here has been umting for centuries." He pointed to the ground. "Feel it?"
Now that he mentioned it, I could sense something beneath us—a current of energy, dark and potent, churning like an underground river.
"This is perfect for your Chaotic Body," he continued. "Absorb this energy, and you''ll grow stronger. Much stronger."
I hesitated. "Won''t absorbing dark energy corrupt me?"
"Only if you let it." He shrugged. "Your Chaotic Body can handle both light and dark energies. That''s what makes you special... and dangerous."
"How long will this take?"
"Three days, maybe four." He settled against a crumbling wall. "I''ll keep watch. You focus on absorption."
I sat cross-legged in the center of the vige square and closed my eyes. Immediately, I felt the dark energy reach for me, hungry and eager. I opened myself to it, drawing it into my core.
The power was intoxicating. Raw, primal, it filled me with a strength I''d never known. Hours passed like minutes as I pulled more and more energy into myself.
Through half-closed eyes, I saw The Man with the Mustache watching me, his expression unreadable. For once, he wasn''t talking or eating. Just watching, as if seeing something fascinating unfold.
---
Unknown to me, in a hidden chamber deep beneath the Veridia City Martial Guild headquarters, seven figures sat around a circr table. Their faces were hidden by shadows, but their voices carried authority that could shake the foundations of the city.
"The prophecy is unfolding faster than we anticipated," said the first figure, a woman with a cold, precise voice. "The paths are converging."
"The boy grows stronger by the day," added another voice, deep and gravelly. "He''s already absorbing energy from the Central ins massacre site."
"How is this possible?" demanded a third. "That location was supposed to be hidden!"
"Someone is helping him," replied the woman. "Someone who knows the old secrets."
"It doesn''t matter," dered a fourth voice. "He must not be allowed to leave Veridia City alive. If he reaches the other tombs..."
"The old order would copse," finished the deep voice. "Everything we''ve built over centuries would be undone."
"The ckthorne wedding is set for September 9th," the woman noted. "We should strike then, when he''s exposed and vulnerable."
"Agreed," said a new voice, thin and whispery. "I propose we deploy Three Military Marquises. Even he cannot stand against such power."
"It will be done," the deep voice proimed. "By September 9th, Liam Knight will be nothing but a memory, and the prophecy will die with him."
---
On the third day, August 21st, I finally opened my eyes. My body hummed with power, dark energy coursing through my veins alongside the golden light of my Saintly Body Skill.
The Man with the Mustache apuded. "Bravo! I''ve never seen anyone absorb so much so quickly. You''re a natural."
I flexed my hands, feeling the new strength in my muscles. "Is this enough to defeat a Martial Marquis?"
"One, perhaps." He twirled his mustache. "But we both know there will be more than one waiting for you."
"Then let''s move to the next tomb," I said, standing. "We don''t have much time."
He nodded, unusually serious. "Indeed. The clock is ticking, and not just for yourdy love."
"What do you mean?"
Before he could answer, a distant rumble shook the ground. We both turned toward the sound.
"Storming," he murmured. "And not just the weather kind."
---
Meanwhile, at ckthorne Manor, several ck cars pulled through the gates. From them emerged men and women whose very presence made the air feel heavier. Servants scurried away, avoiding eye contact.
In his study, Maxwell ckthorne, Dashiell''s father, greeted the uninvited guests with barely concealed nervousness.
"This is... unexpected," he said, bowing slightly. "To what do we owe the honor?"
A woman with silver hair stepped forward. "We hear your son is to be married soon. To the Ashworth girl."
"Yes," Maxwell confirmed. "September 9th."
"And the Knight boy?" asked a tall man with a scar across his cheek. "We hear he ns to interfere."
Maxwell swallowed hard. "My son will handle him."
The visitors exchanged nces.
"For your sake, let''s hope so," said the woman. "But know this—if he can''t do it, we must take action immediately and suppress Liam Knight quickly!"
"What exactly is your interest in this matter?" Maxwell dared to ask.
The scarred man smiled coldly. "The continued existence of everything you hold dear."