A/N: All rights to the original content are reserved by the respective copyright owner.

---

Y/N, grappling with the weight of Sandra's plea, found himself at a crossroads of history and destiny. The memories he had witnessed were not just figments of the past; they were cries for help that resonated through time, seeking him out. The echoes of the knights' oaths bound him to a cause that was both alien and eerily familiar.

"Information," he whispered to himself, a beacon of light in the fog of confusion. To navigate the unknown waters he found himself in, he needed to understand the currents that had led him here.

"Sandra... before I can act, I need to comprehend the full scope of this narrative. Tell me about the knights and the Aeon," Y/N implored, his touch on her shoulder a silent promise of support.

Sandra, her youthful face marred by the gravity of her situation, gathered the shards of her composure. "I'm sorry..." she began, the words a heavy burden on her tongue, "...things have been so dire."

Y/N's silent gaze was an unspoken nudge, urging her to weave the story that lay fragmented before them.

"The knights," she continued, her voice a somber melody, "were the steadfast guardians of Beauty's symbol, champions bound by oath to protect their people. And the lady... she is my mother, the Aeon of Beauty, Idrila."

With a deep breath, Y/N allowed the revelation to sink in, his mind connecting the ethereal dots that Sandra had laid out before him. "So, Idrila, the Aeon of Beauty, is your mother, and the knights are her loyal protectors," he echoed for clarity.

A sparkle of childlike joy flashed across Sandra's face as she nodded, grateful for his understanding.

But Y/N's mind was not yet at peace; another piece of the puzzle beckoned to him. "What became of them?" he asked, his voice a gentle probe into the sensitive history that Sandra held.

The question struck a chord of sorrow, and Sandra's body recoiled as if touched by a winter's chill. Sensing her distress, Y/N enveloped her in an embrace, a sanctuary from the storm of her emotions. Her response was a hug that sought solace, her arms reaching for warmth in the coldness of her reality.

The quiet of the cave was suddenly filled with a proclamation that stirred the air, "All Hail the Queen!" The voice, strong and resonant, drew their attention to its source.

Sandra, her spirits momentarily lifted by the familiar presence, called out, "Igris!"

Emerging from the shadows into the halo of light, the figure of Igris was revealed. His armor, adorned with the intricate designs of red roses, spoke of a chivalry that was timeless. His salute was one of reverence and unwavering loyalty.

"Greetings, I am Igris," he introduced himself, the very image of the knights from Sandra's memory made flesh. "And I have come to aid you in your mission, my liege."

---

The confrontation between Jingliu and Mono, a dance of blades and burgeoning might, had escalated rapidly. Jingliu, propelled through the air by Mono's overwhelming force, managed to land deftly on her feet, only to find Mono already upon her, towering like a monolith of power.

Mono's eyes bore into her, "No matter your age, or how recently you've awakened to your power, you remain a child before me," she said, her voice a symphony of strength and grace. With a swing of her immense sword, Mono challenged Jingliu's resolve, each clash a test of wills.

Jingliu, teeth clenched, redirected the trajectory of Mono's blade, countering with a stab aimed with precision. "You are clever, but your experience is a sapling in a forest of ancients," Mono declared, her voice betraying no effort as she deftly sidestepped the attack, landing atop Jingliu's sword, a feather upon ice steel.

"She has no weight?" Jingliu marveled inwardly, the disparity in their strength was stark. Mono seemed as light as the petals in the air, yet her might was such that she could wield a sword larger than herself, a testament to the power she wielded.

The sudden pressure from Mono's foot on Jingliu's blade sent both the sword and its wielder crashing down, fracturing the earth beneath them. Pain flared through Jingliu's body, a harsh teacher in the lesson of this realm's harsh hierarchies.

With a casual air, Mono turned to Adabas, her interest seemingly dwindling from the skirmish. "How long until the others arrive?" she asked, her voice betraying a hint of boredom.

Jingliu's pride smarted under the twin assaults of physical defeat and the apparent waning of Mono's interest. "She's bored with our bout?" Jingliu pondered, wounded pride fueling her determination to rise above her current limits.

"Err... five minutes?" Adabas responded with a yawn, the casualness of her reply juxtaposed with the intensity of the training.

"Then let us make the most of it," Mono declared, turning back to Jingliu, who lunged with renewed vigor. Mono deflected Jingliu's renewed assault with ease, her movements a dance of dismissal. "You are improving. That is good," Mono noted, a rare word of encouragement amidst the relentless sparring.

But as the spar reached its zenith, Mono declared an end. The air grew dense, oppressive, as if the very atmosphere conspired to hold Jingliu in place. Mono's eyes, deep and dark, channeled an energy that promised a formidable display.

Jingliu braced herself for the onslaught, but a spectral voice stilled Mono's hand, and the atmosphere shifted. "Mono," the voice whispered, carrying the weight of authority and familiarity.

Mono's technique unraveled at the sound of the voice. "Ah... sister..." she said, her usually unflappable demeanor shaken. Jingliu, momentarily distracted, scanned the darkness for the source of the voice but found nothing.

"Me," came the response, and as Jingliu turned, her gaze lingered on the woman before her, a silent question hanging in the air. The resemblance was uncanny, the mirror image so precise it was as if they were reflections separated only by the choices they had made—Jingliu adorned for battle and the woman in ceremonial robes.

"You..." Jingliu began, her voice trailing off as she sought the right words.

"Look just like me?" the woman whispered, an ethereal echo that filled the space between them. It was a statement, not a question—a fact laid bare in the garden.

The woman's presence was overwhelming, as if she embodied Jingliu's own aspirations and fears, her eyes piercing through the veil of uncertainty. "The mission to seek, the motivation for power, and the desire to love. I know how you are feeling, Jingliu," she spoke with a whispered intensity, her words resonating with Jingliu's innermost thoughts.

Jingliu stood still, taken aback by the intimacy of the knowledge laid before her, too profound to voice the tumult of emotions that rose within her.

The woman reached out, her movements graceful and assured, and introduced herself. "I am Seris," she said, her fingers brushing against Jingliu's hands in a dance of familiarity and promise. "Your hope to power."

---

Y/N stood before the knight, Igris, who had pledged his allegiance in a scene that seemed to bridge the worlds of legend and reality. The knight's armor gleamed in the dim light of the cave, the sword at his side a symbol of his commitment and strength.

"Rise," Y/N commanded with the authority that seemed to come naturally to him, his voice echoing regally off the stone walls. Igris complied, standing tall, his presence formidable yet respectful.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Igris," Y/N said, his eyes acknowledging the knight's formidable aura. "Your strength is palpable, fitting for a guardian of beauty."

His mind briefly wandered to his allies in the High Cloud Quintet. In comparison, he realized, all except himself and Jingliu would pale in comparison to Igris' magnitude of power. This realization brought a certain apprehension about the nature of power in this olden era, and the potential allies and enemies they might encounter in their journey.

"The olden era is a different breed of power," Y/N thought to himself, pondering the implications of encountering beings of such immense strength. It was a daunting prospect, considering future encounters with entities as powerful, if not more, than Igris.

Igris bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment, his hand resting on the pommel of his greatsword. "Thank you, my liege," he responded. "But, I must admit, Princess Sandra's secrecy has been... challenging," he added, casting a meaningful glance towards Sandra, who couldn't hide her sheepish expression.

Y/N chuckled softly, finding warmth in the genuine bond shared between knight and royalty. "Igris, Sandra has shown me glimpses of your past battles. Were you part of the siege against those... otherworldly creatures?" Y/N inquired, seeking clarity on the fragmented images he had seen.

Igris' posture stiffened at the memory. "Which siege, my liege?" he asked, a hint of old battles lingering in his voice.

"The one involving beings that seemed alien to this realm," Y/N clarified, remembering the strange adversaries from the memory.

"Great Ones..." Igris spat the words with venom, a flood of unpleasant memories reflected in his tone.

Y/N sensed the power and danger associated with these 'Great ones', yet he needed more information. "

What are the 'Great Ones'?" Y/N pressed further, his curiosity mingling with a sense of foreboding.

Sandra, visibly shaken by the discussion, glanced anxiously at Igris. The knight's armor trembled slightly, signaling his inner turmoil. Sensing the tension, Sandra stepped forward, interrupting the brewing storm.

"My liege," she addressed Y/N, drawing both his and Igris' attention. "The Great Ones are eldritch beings existing beyond our planes. They are akin to gods, but unlike any we know."

Y/N processed her words, trying to comprehend the nature of these beings. "So they differ from Aeons like your mother?" he asked, attempting to distinguish between the two entities.

Sandra nodded, her expression grave. "Yes. While Aeons like my mother represent certain aspects of existence - the path of  Beauty - the Great ones embody chaos and the unknown. They are beyond our understanding, their motives and origins shrouded in mystery."

Y/N frowned, recalling his encounter with a shadowy figure, wondering if it was linked to these Great ones. He shelved the thought for later consideration and turned back to Sandra. "What do they want with your mother, Idrila?" he asked, delving deeper into the heart of the matter.

Sandra remained silent, her eyes downcast, grappling with the weight of her response. Suddenly, her body glowed with an intense light, her eyes shining with a celestial brilliance. Y/N felt a surge of energy emanating from her, signaling an impending outburst.

"My lady?" Igris stepped forward, concern etched in his voice.

Y/N, sensing the danger, shouted a warning. "Igris, get back!" He raised his arm, conjuring a dark barrier to shield the knight from the explosive light.

In an instant, the light from Sandra exploded, obliterating the cave and spreading outwards, scorching the surrounding forest with its intensity. The once hidden sanctuary was now exposed, its secrets laid bare by the searing light.

Igris, shielding his eyes from the blinding radiance, soon realized he was unscathed. As he lowered his hands, he witnessed Y/N, surrounded by a dark barrier he had conjured, shielding them both from the destructive light. Y/N's clothes were ruined, his body visibly melting under the assault, yet miraculously repairing itself in real time due to his regenerative abilities.

"My liege!"

As the light gradually subsided, it revealed Sandra, floating motionlessly, enveloped in a powerful aura that emanated from Y/N. His telekinetic prowess had prevented her from plummeting to the ground during the outburst. Y/N, recovering, let out a sigh, remarking dryly on the pain he had endured.

Y/N then released the protective barrier, allowing Igris to rush to Sandra's side. The knight immediately knelt, expressing his gratitude. "I thank you, my liege, for saving both of our lives." The respect in his voice was palpable, his admiration for Y/N having grown exponentially after witnessing his display of power.

Y/N, with a small smile, acknowledged Igris's thanks. He then levitated Sandra, carefully placing her on the ground beside them. Looking around, he noted with a hint of sadness the destruction of the Ruins and the forest - relics of a past now lost to Sandra's outburst.

Realizing his clothes had been destroyed in the incident, Y/N addressed Igris, "Hah... Igris, attend to Sandra while I find something more... appropriate to wear."

Igris, still holding onto Sandra's hands, nodded in agreement. "I will guard her with my life, my liege," he affirmed, his tone reflecting his unwavering commitment.

Y/N, appreciating the knight's dedication, conjured a mini Abyssal Gate from his hand, retrieving a set of clothes with a tailcoat from the otherworldly portal. As he dressed himself in the new attire, he contemplated their next move.

"I think we should rest for a bit before continuing," Y/N suggested, recognizing the need for a moment of respite after the unforeseen upheaval.

"Agreed, my liege," Igris responded, his voice carrying a note of relief, his gaze never leaving Sandra's still form. The gravity of the situation had taken its toll, and a pause in their journey seemed prudent.

With Sandra still unconscious and recovering, Y/N and Igris settled into a quiet vigil, each lost in their thoughts about the events that had just unfolded.

---

Jingliu, still processing the surreal encounter, gazed at Seris, her mirror image in many ways. "My... hope?" she echoed, her voice tinged with bewilderment. The mysterious Seris, gently caressing her hand, seemed to emanate an aura of knowing, a depth that transcended Jingliu's understanding.

Seris observed Mono and Adabas, their playful antics bringing a soft smile to her lips. She turned her attention back to Jingliu, addressing her confusion. "You have met her, the one who showed you your moon," Seris reminded, prompting Jingliu to recall her encounter with the enigmatic painter and the profound connection with the cosmos she had felt then.

"Yes, I did..." Jingliu's voice trailed off as she brought forth her other hand. A fluorescent energy deepened around her, drawing the attention of Adabas and Mono. Moonlight softly emanated from Jingliu, and ice began to form around her outstretched hand, symbolizing her innate element intertwined with her cosmic ascent. The resulting greatsword, glowing with an amethyst hue, was a physical manifestation of her inner strength and connection.

Seris, watching the summoning, seemed to carry a tinge of sadness in her red eyes. "It is a beautiful weapon, reflecting your soul," she commented softly, her touch tracing the blade, as if lost in memories.

Jingliu, feeling a surge of pride, responded warmly, "It wouldn't be possible without my love for him. He who has always been with me." Her voice carried a blend of affection and longing, a testament to the depth of her feelings.

Mono and Adabas, their playful demeanor momentarily set aside, looked on with a growing curiosity. The mention of this significant 'him' in Jingliu's life piqued their interest, a story they were keen to learn more about.

Seris' expression remained neutral, but her interest was apparent. "My apologies, but who is 'him'?" she inquired, urging Jingliu to share more.

Jingliu's cheeks flushed with a hint of embarrassment, realizing she had left out a crucial detail in her heartfelt declaration. "He... is not with me at the moment. Everyone believed he had died, but I remained faithful, searching for him. His name is Y/N," she concluded, the amethyst glow of her blade intensifying, mirroring the emotions swirling within her.

"Y/N," Seris repeated the name, her voice flat but her grip on Jingliu's hand tightening subtly. "Y/N..." A second time she uttered the name, now with more emphasis, as if testing its weight.

A smile then graced Seris's lips, mirroring Jingliu's own. "Very well, your goal to find your loved one. We will help you grow stronger," Seris affirmed, her voice now carrying a note of determination.

Jingliu felt a surge of gratitude at Seris' willingness to assist. "Thank you," she replied, her appreciation evident in her tone.

Seris glanced back at Mono and Adabas, who were still grinning, sensing the need to refocus their attention. "Adabas, Mono, shall we go meet our other siblings? They shouldn't be far from here," she proposed, her tone indicating it was time to resume their journey.

The twins exchanged a look, communicating silently before nodding in unison. They turned to Seris and Jingliu, the resemblance between the two striking even to them. "Umu! Let's go!" Mono exclaimed enthusiastically, grabbing Adabas' hand and leading the way with youthful energy.

Seris extended an invitation to Jingliu, "Shall we go?" Her gesture was both an offer of companionship and a beckoning to the path ahead.

Jingliu simply nodded in agreement, her greatsword still in hand, a symbol of her readiness to embrace whatever challenges lay ahead. Together, they followed Mono and Adabas, venturing deeper into the realm.

---

Jingliu walked in contemplative silence, trailing behind Seris, Adabas, and Mono. The sounds of their journey were simple—the rhythmic crunching of branches underfoot, the soft thuds of their boots making contact with the earth. She observed Seris' silhouette against the forest backdrop, feeling an inexplicable twinge of jealousy that she couldn't quite place. Determined to understand these emotions, Jingliu knew she must forge a bond with Seris and her siblings.

Eager to know more about this realm and its occupants, Jingliu decided to initiate a conversation. "Seris... what responsibilities do you all share here?" she inquired, her voice breaking the natural cadence of the woods. "This realm is unlike my homeland; surely, the tasks you undertake are as varied as this world's wonders."

The group fell into a thoughtful silence, considering her question. Jingliu waited patiently, understanding the depth of experience that comes with lifetimes spanning millennia. She reasoned they must carefully choose which fragments of their eternal lives to share with someone whose lifespan was but a mere brushstroke on the canvas of time.

Adabas was the first to speak, her voice light and whimsical. "Not much, to be honest. We scout, we train, we indulge in the pleasures of sustenance, and occasionally, we engage in battle. None of the political intricacies that plague your people. Though, we do have a semblance of hierarchy amongst ourselves."

Mono added, with a hint of empathy, "Aside from the necessities, we explore, create, and revel in our existence. Despite our age, there's always something new on the horizon. We seek joy in the freedom of our realm."

Jingliu nodded, appreciating their candor. "Not so different from my life, then," she mused, a smile gracing her lips.

Mono's response carried a slight edge. "Yes, but we are spared from the burdens of aging councils and their incessant politicking. I imagine that's quite the thorn in your side, Nighthilt Sovereign."

Adabas shot her sister a stern look, but Jingliu waved off the concern. "Indeed, they can be... overwhelming. They have often hindered me, especially after Y/N's disappearance."

The conversation took a poignant turn when Seris proposed, "Then why not leave? Depart with him, once he's found, and carve out your shared happiness, free from the chains of your homeland."

Jingliu's heart fluttered at the thought, yet she remained grounded. "I cherish the idea, but it's a decision I must make with Y/N, not alone," she said, her loyalty unwavering even in the face of temptation.

Seris nodded, her approval evident. "Such consideration speaks volumes of your love for him."

Suddenly, Seris's hand flew to her chest, a gesture of discomfort or perhaps a prelude to something more profound. Her eyes fluttered shut as she seemed to brace herself against a rising tide of emotion.

Adabas's attention shifted, sensing an arrival. "She's here."

The air around them grew warm, and Jingliu felt the temperature rise. "This is but a dramatic entrance by our sister," Mono said, her tone suggesting this was a regular occurrence.

A red hue engulfed their surroundings, transforming the atmosphere into a fiery tableau. Flames, both fierce and beautiful, swirled around them, each tongue of fire performing a choreographed dance—a visual symphony composed of heat and light.

The woman emerged from the heart of the inferno, her presence as commanding as the flames that obeyed her will. She stood amidst the fiery vortex, her attire woven from embers and her hair a cascade of living flames. In her hand was a sword, its blade alight with an eternal blaze, an extension of her very essence—a swirling mass of flames that seemed alive, each movement a stroke of art, each twirl an act of creation

"Hahahaha!~"

A laugh broke through the crackling of the flames, a sound as bold and resonant as the fire itself. The woman introduced herself with the flair of a performer taking center stage, her voice a mixture of warmth and untamed power.

"Behold the dance of the eternal flame, the cradle of life and the harbinger of destruction," she proclaimed. Her movements were fluid and hypnotic, a maestro conducting an orchestra of fire. The sword in her hand was an extension of her being, a conductor's baton directing the flickering chorus.

She twirled, her laughter mingling with the roar of the flames. "I am Icaria, the ember that never fades, the fire that warms and consumes. I wield the flame with passion and precision, for it is both my weapon and my art."

Her gaze fell upon Jingliu, eyes gleaming with an intensity that matched the inferno around them. "In this realm of endless possibilities, my flames seek the beauty of transformation—the destruction of the old to forge the new."

Jingliu watched, captivated by Icaria's display, the raw power and control over such a primal force. She understood then, the burning passion that drove these beings, the timeless pursuit of purpose and expression in a world unbound by the rules of mortals.

Icaria laughed again, her eyes alight with the same flames that surrounded her. "In this realm of ours, I am the melody of combustion, the symphony of heat and light. Where passion fuels the soul and fire cleanses the spirit."

She brandished her sword, and it sang—a high, clear note that resonated with Jingliu's core. "In the dance of combat and the silence of solitude, my flames roar the loudest, for they speak of life itself."

With a graceful motion, Icaria directed her sword upwards, and a column of fire shot into the sky, splitting the clouds above, painting the heavens with the colors of dawn.

"Come, Nighthilt Sovereign," Icaria beckoned with a mischievous grin. "Let us spar with the fervor of fire, let us learn from the blaze. For in the heart of the inferno lies wisdom for those brave enough to reach for it."

Jingliu felt a surge of excitement at the challenge, her own spirit responding to the call of the flame. "I accept, Icaria," she declared, her voice steady, her heart ablaze with anticipation for the lessons to be learned in the language of fire and ice.

---

As the shroud of night wrapped the land in its silent embrace, Igris continued his watchful care over Sandra, whose rest was troubled yet healing. Y/N found solace on a fallen log nearby, his eyes reflecting the scattered glow of the stars above. With each passing moment, he further mastered the shadow energy that was an innate part of his being, bending it to his will with a focus as sharp as the edge of a blade.

In the quiet of the night, Y/N honed his skill, crafting from the darkness projections as solid and real as the world around him. Objects of shadow took form effortlessly under his command, but weapons proved to be a more delicate art. His attempts at forging a shadow greatsword yielded a form that was aesthetically perfect yet brittle, crumbling against the unyielding bark of an ancient tree.

A lightsword of shadow, however, became his reliable extension, as agile and responsive as his thoughts. Still, the complex structure of the greatsword eluded him, remaining a goal just out of reach. His hands moved with practiced grace, weaving the shadows into shapes that danced and dissolved on his command.

Amidst his meditation on the shadow, the ornate dagger—a gift from Ena—remained a tangible reminder of the physical world. Summoning the blade from the depths of the Abyssal Gate, Y/N admired its craftsmanship: the short azurite blade shimmered in the moonlight, its beauty both lethal and mesmerizing. With a flourish, he demonstrated a masterful dance with the dagger, each twirl a testament to his skill.

Clutching the shadow pearl pendant that lay against his chest, Y/N's thoughts drifted to the enigmatic Great Ones. These godlike beings from realms unknown had left an indelible mark upon his soul. Their power was beyond comprehension, beyond the very concepts of existence that Y/N had known. The weight of the Aeon he had encountered was vast, but the presence of the shadowed deity was something else entirely—a force that defied definition.

The black pearl pulsed with a familiar shadow energy, a twin to his own. Y/N pondered the deity's intentions, the reasons for bestowing such a gift upon him. What did it desire in return? The questions hung heavily in the air, unanswered.

With a sigh, Y/N conceded that there were no immediate answers. His current task lay clear before him: to save Sandra's mother, the Aeon of Beauty. It was a noble quest, one that resonated with his sense of duty and honor.

Turning his gaze to Igris, Y/N saw an opportunity to learn more of the history that had led them to this moment. Approaching the Knight, he saw Igris salute with due respect.

"Igris, may I inquire about your past?" Y/N asked, conjuring a shadow chair to sit opposite the knight. His curiosity was piqued, eager to learn of the history that Igris carried with him.

Igris, momentarily taken aback by the relaxed and inquisitive nature of his liege, glanced at the night sky before responding. "I am a member of the Queen's personal guard, the Knights of Beauty, serving as the Marshal," he shared, the title carrying a weight of responsibility and honor.

Y/N nodded, not entirely surprised. The detail and mobility of Igris's armor hinted at its significance; it was befitting a man of his station, a reflection of the path of beauty to which he was sworn.

"My brothers and sisters in arms, many have fallen," Igris continued, his voice tinged with sorrow. "The survivors have scattered, guarding the tombs. Their whereabouts are unknown to me, but I trust they will emerge when needed."

"Interesting," Y/N mused aloud. "So, as Marshal, there must be secrets of your order you are sworn to protect?"

Igris hesitated, the conflict visible in his stance. Then he finally relented to share more of the enigmatic past that bound him. "Indeed, I will say more. We, the Knights of Beauty, are unified in power, a blessing bestowed upon us by our Queen," Igris confessed, his voice carrying a note of reverence.

Y/N, who had been idly twirling the ornate dagger, ceased his movements, focusing intently on the Knight. "Blessed by an Aeon... then you are what's known as Emanators," he commented, the concept resonating within him, linking Igris to the wider tapestry of this mystical realm.

"Emanators?" Igris echoed, the term unfamiliar, his confusion evident in the tilt of his head.

Y/N was taken aback by Igris's lack of recognition of the term. He explained, "Emanators are those blessed by Aeons, granted the ability to wield aspects of their divine paths."

There was a pause, a hesitation before Igris responded. "Emanators... I do not favor such a term. I am, and always have been, simply a 'protector'." His tone held a firmness, a conviction that went beyond mere semantics.

"Alright," Y/N acquiesced, his gaze lifting to the star-strewn sky. The time for rest was upon them, the celestial bodies above silently affirming the need for repose.

"Igris, rest now. We all should sleep," Y/N suggested, acknowledging the toll the day's events had taken on them both.

Igris nodded his assent. "Very well, my liege," he agreed, his voice a soft murmur against the quietude of the night.

The two settled into the stillness, Y/N enveloped by the comforting shadows that seemed an extension of himself, while Igris maintained a vigilant watch over Sandra. 

End of Chapter