Far away from the grotesque caverns buried within the mountain...

Far beyond the woods where Wights prowlee beneath twisted trees...

There existed another world within the Nether Lands.

It was a city; not a ruin nor a nest of monsters, but a living city.

The sky above it carried an eerie shade, it was dim and heavy like dusk trapped between worlds; yet compared to the suffocating heavens of the forest, it almost felt... Normal. Warm, even.

Thicks clouds drifted slowly across the horizon while a strange pale sun flickered behind them, bathing the land in a muted amber light.

The city itself stretched across the black stone plains and volcanic ridges. Massive walls carved around it like the coils of a great serpent.

Towers rose into the sky with sharp, elegant designs, their surfaces etched with glowing runes that pulsed faintly like breathing veins.

And the people walking in its streets... We’re not humans.

Some possessed horns curling from their heads. Others had slitted pupils that glimmered unnaturally beneath the light. A few even had scales running along their necks or hands...

Yet despite those inhuman traits, they moved with civilization and order.

Merchants traded goods beneath banners of black silk; armoured warriors marched through avenues carrying curved weapons forged from dark metal.

Scholars in flowing robes crossed bridges suspended over rivers glowing faintly beneath the city...

These were the Sauryeans; Inhabitants of the Nether Lands.

At the center of the city stood a palace so immense that it overshadowed everything around it...

The place looked less like something built by mortal hands and more like the remains of an ancient god carved into architecture. Its walls were forged from dark violet stone streaked with glowing silver veins.

Massive dragon stature lined the stairways leading upward, each one sculpted with terrifying detail, their jaws open as though forever roaring toward the heavens.

Tall banners swayed from the towers in shimmering colours of purple, black and gold...

Within the palace lay the throne hall.

The chamber was colossal.

Rows of towering pillars stretched toward the distant ceiling, each pillar carved into the likeness of twisting dragons whose scaled bodies spiraled upward. Their eyes glowed faintly, making them appear alive in the dim light...

Ancient engravings covered the floor with symbols of conquest, bloodlines, and forgotten wars.

At the far end of the hall rested a throne elevated upon black marble steps.

The throne itself was enormous; forged from obsidian metal and pale bone-like material, it curled upward behind its occupant like the claws of some ancient beast.

Purple flames burned violently behind it in massive braziers...

And seated upon that throne... Was the man Regaleon had spoken to through the altar.

The atmosphere in the chamber felt suffocating; not because of Aether, but because of rage...

The young man sat leaning slightly against one arm of the throne, yet the pressure radiating from him made the ministers below lower their gazes instinctively...

His long hair flowed like liquid amethyst down his shoulders and back. Under the hall’s glow, strands of violet and deep purple shimmered together like silk soaked in moonlight.

His face was stern and sharply masculine, possessing the kind of beauty that felt dangerous rather than gentle.

But at this moment, none of his elegant features mattered because fury distorted his expression greatly...

"That damned human..."

His voice rolled through the throne hall like restrained thunder.

"That insolent worm... That primitive creature... Daring to question me as though we stood as equals..."

The hall was silent as no minister dared to interrupt him.

"The audacity of those pests!"

His fingers tightened against the armrest as he squeezed through gritted teeth.

"Desecrating sacred nests... Slaughtering creatures... Interfering in affairs beyond their understanding..."

A pulse of pressure rippled outward across the chamber. One minister nearly lost balance before steadying himself.

Finally, after the young royal exhausted several more insults regarding humans, one of the ministers stepped forward cautiously.

The old Sauryean bowed deeply before speaking. "My Lord Penemue... What has caused such anger?"

The young royal’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

"A human." He spat.

It was just two words; yet the disgust within them was unmistakable.

"He disrupted one of the Breeding Nests within the Crimson Forest. Worse..." Penemue’s voice darkened. "...he treated me like a fool."

A ripple of surprise moved through the ministers before another official stepped forward carefully.

This one was tall and thin with his robe embroidered with silver scales.

"My Lord, did you just say a human reached the Nest itself?"

"Yes."

The answer was cold and immediate.

"And the Overseer, My Lord?" Another official asked.

At that question, Penemue’s expression darkened. "I don’t know her situation."

The ministers tensed at his reply. That was terrible because the Overseer wasn’t someone ordinary...

One of them cleared his throat before speaking carefully.

"Should we dispatch warriors to search for her... And also eliminate the human, My Lord?"

The hall quieted again.

Penemue leaned back against the throne slowly as his expression turned contemplative.

For several moments, only the crackling purple flames could be heard...

Then he scoffed before answering.

"No."

The ministers blinked in confusion.

Penemue’s eyes gleamed sharply as he said. "We have more important matters than chasing insects through forests. As for Serakha, I would handle her matter personally."

At his words, the ministers visibly relaxed.

Then, Penemue stood from his throne. His robes flowed behind him as he descended the steps slowly...

"What matters now is the preparations." Penemue reminded.

Then he stopped before the ministers and asked. "How progresses the rest of the project?"

Another minister stepped forward; this one was briader and older, with scars running along one horn...

"My Lord, the Nests continue operating successfully."

Penemue narrowed his eyes. "And the numbers?" He asked.

The minister bowed his head before replying.

"At the current rate of progression, within one month we can guarantee an army worthy of presentation before you."

The throne hall seem to freeze at his words as the temperature dropped slightly...

"One month?" Penemue’s gaze sharpened as though trying to pierce through the minister.

"Why so long?!"

The minister stiffened immediately.

"My Lord, the creation process for those Tyrano-Wights requires stability. Accelerating development too quickly may destabilize the mutations."

The minister continued cautiously.

"Additionally... resources have become limited recently."

Penemue frowned slightly.

"Explain." He demanded.

"The bodies required for conversion have decreased as human settlements near the outer regions have tightened their defenses since our last assault."

Another minister stepped forward nervously and bowed. "My Lord, it seems the Sanctuary has become more cautious."

At the mention of the Sanctuary, Penemue’s expression turned ugly.

"That place again?" He hissed.

The minister hesitated before continuing. "...There are also reports concerning Princess Lytheria."

A faint murmur spread through the hall while Penemue’s eyes narrowed.

"What about her?"

The minister swallowed lightly. "My Lord, rumours state that she recently advanced into the Fourth Rank Etheryean Realm."

There was silence for a few moments.

Then Penemue asked. "And her disgusting beasts...?"

"They are said to have evolved from King Tier into the Emperor Tier, My Lord."

For he first time since the conversation, the hall truly felt tense as the ministers exchanged glances.

Looking closely, there was a hint of something primal lurking within their gazes...

Yet Penemue merely scoffed.

"Humans never change. They gain little strength and suddenly begin believing that they matter."

His voice carried absolute arrogance as he spoke further.

"But what they don’t know is that no matter how strong pests become... Pests remain pests." He spat disdainfullly.

None of the ministers responded as Penemue slowly returned to his throne.

"The High Council demands results from me, and I will not disappoint them."

He sat once more before continuing.

"So you are to continue preparations. I want progress accelerated with alacrity."

The ministers bowed deeply as they chorused.

"Yes, Lord Penemue."

"The meeting ends here."

With that, the ministers began leaving the hall one by one...

Soon, only silence remained.

Penemue sat motionless in pon the throne, his fingers tapping absentmindedly against the armrest as his thoughts kept drifting back toward one person.

Regaleon.

He remembered that human’s calm golden eyes...

That irritating composure...

That straightened spine even before his overwhelming pressure...

The more Penemue remembered all these, the colder is expression became.

Then suddenly, he spoke.

"Vael’zhur."

The shadows within the throne hall stirred as a figure emerged silently. It was completely cloaked in black...

The person knelt immediately before the throne without raising it’s head...

Penemue looked down at the kneeling figure as spoke quietly.

"I have a mission for you..."