Roan woke with a splitting headache that felt like iron hammers pounding against his skull. For a long while, he couldn’t summon the strength to crawl out of bed. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, caught between the dull ache in his head and the heavier weight of worry pressing on his chest. What if Ocean still hadn’t stirred? Though the fever had broken the night before, what if he continued to sleep, refusing to return to them? What if his body had given in and Ocean was only drifting further away?

The questions spun in circles until they sickened him more than the pain in his head. Roan buried his face in his hands, trying not to imagine a world where Ocean Ryujin never opened his eyes again.

Just then, hurried footsteps echoed outside. The door creaked open, and Remi’s head poked in with breathless excitement.

"Mr. Roan—wake up! Master is awake!"

For a moment, Roan thought he’d misheard him. The words didn’t make sense, not with how heavy his mind felt. But when it finally sank in, his heart lurched, and he all but fell out of the bed in a scramble.

He took the quickest bath of his life, barely rinsing away the sweat of worry before tugging on fresh clothes. His headache pulsed with every movement, but he didn’t care. By the time he rushed down the corridor, his breath was ragged, his hands shaking with anticipation.

And then he saw him.

Ocean sat at the head of the table, bright-eyed and refreshed, as though the long sleep had restored him instead of weakened him. His hair was loose and shimmering under the morning light, his skin radiant with a faint glow that made him seem almost otherworldly. He laughed softly at something Remi had said while stuffing his mouth with food like a starved child—carefree, alive, and unmistakably himself.

It wasn’t Kai’s practiced disguise this time. It was the real Ocean—vibrant, untamed, and impossible to mistake.

The sight nearly brought Roan to his knees. A wave of relief washed through him so strongly it made his vision blur. The mansion itself seemed to breathe easier, voices and footsteps lighter, corridors brighter, as if the very walls shared their joy that Ocean was awake at last.

After breakfast, Ocean stretched languidly before making his way to the library to confer with Archmage Silas, already slipping back into his usual rhythm as though nothing had happened. Roan, meanwhile, collapsed onto a chair, pressing his fingers to his temples. The headache hadn’t lessened—it throbbed mercilessly—but for the first time in days, he didn’t mind. The pain was tolerable. Ocean was awake. That was all that mattered.

A steaming bowl of hangover soup sat before Roan, the fragrant steam curling up into his face. He blinked blearily at it, then looked up at Remi, who stood watching him with a smile that seemed far too knowing.

"You must be having quite a hangover, right?" Remi asked lightly.

Roan frowned, spoon pausing midway to his lips.

How did he know?

Remi caught the look of confusion and tilted his head. "Do you not remember what happened last night?"

Roan’s eyes went wide, his heart hammering against his ribs. What happened last night?!

"Wha—What happened?" he asked, voice cracking.

Remi’s eyes curved into a crescent, his lips curling into a mischievous smile before he let out a long, exaggerated sigh.

"I’m impressed, Mr. Roan. You may look so stiff and proper, but you’re a man full of surprises."

Roan froze, feeling as though his entire body had turned to ice. His thoughts spiraled—What did I say? What did I do? Did I misbehave? Or worse... did I confess something to him?!

Before he could muster the courage to demand an answer, Remi straightened and patted his shoulder. "Well, please eat up. We’ve got a lot of work to do now that Master is awake."

And with that, he spun on his heel and left the room, leaving Roan staring after him in horrified silence, spoon still clutched in his hand.

Roan ate the hangover soup with a heavy sense of dread, every sip reminding him of Remi’s words. Just what had he done last night in his drunken stupor?

But then again, he reasoned, it couldn’t have been much. When he woke, he was fully clothed, boots neatly set aside. With the way Remi behaved—smiling but not angry—it was unlikely he had done anything outrageous. That only left the possibility of words. What could he have said?

He chewed the inside of his cheek as the thought festered. Remi’s mischievous smile came back to haunt him, and the uncertainty gnawed deeper.

After wrestling with his memory and failing, Roan dragged himself to the office where the usual trio of aides were already at work. Papers rustled, quills scratched against parchment, and the scent of ink hung faintly in the air.

They greeted him politely; he returned the greeting, though his mind was anywhere but present. Sitting at his desk, he tapped his fingers against the wood, wrecking his brain for even the smallest fragment of memory.

The last thing he remembered was raising a glass. Then—suddenly—a flicker. A knock on his door.

Roan’s eyes widened, pulse quickening as the hazy memory crystallized at the edges.

Someone had come to him last night.

Just then, the doors opened and Ocean walked in, looking strikingly refreshed, his presence brightening the room instantly.

"Morning," he greeted, and the aides beamed as they bowed.

"Morning, Master," Roan echoed, though his voice carried the weariness of his headache. Ocean’s eyes flicked to him, catching the faint slump of his shoulders.

"What’s wrong? Hangover?" Ocean asked, amusement tugging at his lips.

Roan flinched. "H-How’d you know?"

"It’s written all over your face," Ocean chuckled. "Go have some hangover soup, you’ll feel better."

"I already had some," Roan muttered with a sigh.

Ocean tilted his head, his smile softening before he crossed the room and settled at his desk with an easy grace.

"What’s your plan for lunch?" he asked casually.

"Nothing yet," Roan admitted.

"Then let’s go to Eldarf." Ocean unclasped the brooch at his chest, holding it close to his lips. The clear stone gleamed faintly as his mana pulsed through it.

"Kent," Ocean called.

A beat later, a young voice crackled through the link, excited and breathless. "Master?!"

"Yes, it’s me," Ocean replied, smiling.

"Is it really Master?!" another voice chimed in.

"I want to talk to him too!"

"Big Brother, don’t hog it for yourself!"

Ocean couldn’t hold back his laughter as the children’s voices tumbled over one another in a noisy chorus. Somewhere in the din, Kent’s exasperated scolding could be heard, trying—and failing—to restore order.

"I’m coming over for lunch," Ocean said warmly, "with Roan, Kai, and Sol."

"Lunch? You’re coming for lunch? All right!" Kent answered, the chaos behind him growing louder.

Ocean chuckled again, shaking his head at their endless energy. "Tell Anore and the others to come too. I have something to discuss with them."

"All right!" Kent’s voice rang out, just before another playful squabble broke through the line.

The morning’s work wrapped up just before lunch, and Ocean rose from his desk, prompting Roan to glance up.

"Are you done already?" Roan asked.

Ocean gave a quiet hum in reply before striding over to the tall window. He pursed his lips and let out a sharp, clear whistle. Moments later, a shadow swooped in from the sky—a large owl with pitch-black feathers, wings spread wide as it landed with quiet elegance on the sill.

Ocean’s lips curved into a smile. "Nox."

The owl ruffled his feathers proudly, then dipped his head to nudge the small pendant hanging around his neck. Ocean reached out, fingers brushing the smooth metal as he unfastened it. Nox gave a soft hoot and with a graceful beat of wings, hopped onto Ocean’s shoulder, settling there like a living shadow.

"I’ll see you at the entrance in an hour," Ocean said, turning back briefly before stepping out of the office.

An hour later, Roan arrived at the entrance of Ryujin Mansion where Kai was already waiting. The younger man looked almost restless with excitement, and before long, Ocean appeared alongside Sol, Nox still perched proudly on his shoulder.

Ocean’s mood was noticeably lighter, his steps unhurried and his eyes carrying a spark Roan hadn’t seen in days. Even Sol, who usually carried himself with restraint, seemed to share in the undercurrent of anticipation.

Roan didn’t ask. He had seen enough of Ocean’s habits to guess this lunch wasn’t just a casual gathering. More likely, it was tied to another of Ocean’s elaborate plans—and for some reason, the Eldarf children and the Dark Elves were to be drawn into it this time.

The carriage awaited, polished and steady. As they climbed aboard, Kai’s face broke into a smile that betrayed his eagerness. The thought of seeing the Eldarf children again clearly delighted him. And since Sylvia had been sent back on an errand by Ocean not long ago, he’d be meeting her again as well.

With the soft creak of wheels and the rhythmic clop of hooves, the carriage set off toward Eldarf.

The climb up the hill toward Eldarf Manor was quiet save for the crunch of boots against earth. Roan walked a step behind the others, his mind restless. Ocean’s mood seemed almost too calm, too composed, and that only deepened the unease clawing at his chest. The enemy had already managed to slip right into Oasis during Ocean’s absence. If things had escalated that far once, then whatever Ocean was about to unveil would surely demand blood—or worse, could mean the severing of an entire lineage.

The manor greeted them with the warmth of laughter and clatter. The lunch that followed was anything but solemn. The dining hall buzzed with noise, children darting between chairs, Elves and Dwarves speaking over one another, and even the reserved Dark Elves drawn into the lively rhythm of it all. The presence of the two little Dragons only added to the noise, their bickering sparking laughter from the gathered crowd.

But once the meal ended, Ocean’s clear voice cut through the chaos.

"Gather in the drawing room."

The change in tone was enough to sober everyone. One by one, they filtered into the largest room of Eldarf Manor, where a broad table stood at its center. Ocean stepped forward, unrolling a large map across its polished surface. The rustle of parchment filled the still air, and all eyes fixed on him.

"Master, what’s this?" Rowan asked.

"The next plan," Ocean answered simply.

At that, Nox gave a low hoot from Kai’s shoulder before taking flight. His black wings sliced through the air as he swooped down, landing squarely on the map. His talons clicked against the parchment, and he fluffed his feathers as though punctuating Ocean’s words.

Ocean leaned forward, his pale finger pressing firmly against the Oasis school marked on the map. "This is where the severed arm was found."

Gasps rippled through the room. The Elves leaned closer, unease flickering in their eyes.

"It was a curse," Anore murmured, her voice taut.

Ocean gave a single nod. "But not only one." His finger slid across the parchment and tapped another mark. "Here. Syndrill. There was an animal epidemic while I was there. I thought it a simple blight at the time, but..."

Roan’s brow furrowed. "Did you find something from there as well?"

Ocean’s lips curved faintly, though the humor didn’t reach his eyes. "I wasn’t looking for it then, but Zach did. He noticed something... wrong."

The air in the room seemed to shrink, pressing down with every heartbeat. Silence thickened until Ocean broke it again, his voice steady, deliberate.

"This is bigger than one or two scattered remains. These curses are threads of a single weave—a special curse. To unravel it, we must gather every piece."

His finger traced across the map, marking points one after another where Nox had discovered signs of the curse. The owl gave a low, rumbling coo, wings twitching as though echoing his master’s urgency.

"I want Anore and your team on the field," Ocean said at last. "Take the kids with you. The teams will remain the same as last time."

"Yes, Master," Anore answered, her back straight and her tone resolute.

"The locations are marked. Investigate each one. If you find the cursed remnants, bring them to me intact. If you encounter anything irregular, anything you cannot control—you abort at once and return and inform me."

His gaze swept over them all, sharp as steel. "Do you understand?"

A chorus of voices answered him as one. "Yes, Master!"