Like Us

The Edin Empire is made up of thirty-five official provinces. Each province is placed under the jurisdiction of a provincial governor who in turn reports to the Imperator in the Imperial City.

Harlston

Hade woke up in his room a couple of hours later with a throbbing headache and an aching body.

It was about five o'clock in the afternoon, and the sun was about to set.

He groaned as he struggled to sit up, the action itself amplifying the stinging pain inside his head.

He rubbed the back of his neck and doing so, he tried to recall that morning's events.

Hade remembered his training session with Leofred, and what should've ultimately been his untimely demise. Given how he now lay safely in his room, he concluded that the situation had been handled properly. After all, he did remember his mother coming to his aid shortly before he lost consciousness.

'How embarrassing.'

After all the stress he had put his mother through this week, it was going to be very hard to face her after this.

While Hade was still very upset about dancing with death once again, the benefits he had gained this time overshadowed the losses, and already, he could feel some of his bitterness beginning to wear off.

Do not get it wrong, he was still very much mad at Leofred. In fact, if anything, the spiky-haired man should definitely expect some payback in the future.

That said, his methods, though underhanded, reckless, and dangerous, had undeniably yielded results.

For the first time since he awakened, roughly one year ago, Hade had finally managed to use his law, the law of Order, and damn, it felt good.

He could still remember how he had felt at the exact moment he cast the spell... The sensation of having his pent-up energy finally find release was heavenly... addictive even.

It was like having a part of yourself that had been caged for a long time finally set free.

'Is this how everyone feels when using magic?' Hade wondered to himself.

If so, no wonder why everybody was so obsessed with improving and getting stronger.

For some reason, Hade could not remember how exactly he had cast the spell. It had all happened so fast, like a reflex reaction pumped by the rush of adrenaline in an exciting moment.

He wasn't too distraught, though. While he could not remember how exactly he had achieved the feat, what he did remember distinctly was the intense desire he had felt within when the fiery sword of light closed in on him.

The will to survive and the desperation to change his fate...

If ever he wanted to make steady progress with his law, he had to grab hold of these two emotions.

Only then would he be able to amass enough strength to avenge Wil's death.

Salancans

A bright flash of lightning streaked across the sky, followed by a loud thunderclap. The rains poured heavily, unrelenting and ceaseless.

Man's civilization had long crawled back into the safety and warmth of their habitats. For a species that unabashedly claimed to be at the apex of the food chain, even they could not help but cower at the might of the universe.

Alone in a room located on the topmost floor of a random inn, a handsome man with pitch-black hair and snake-like golden irises stared at his handsome reflection in the mirror.

His breathing was slow and steady... composed, like nothing in this world, not even the roaring storm outside, could faze him.

If Hade were present, he would've recognized this man as the same person who had bumped into him in the city, the very same man who was just as responsible for Wil's death as Nobu, if not even more so...

At this moment in time, the handsome man had a small frown on his flawless face. Once again, the frown did not seem to affect his good looks in the slightest.

He was calm, however, it was like that kind of calm before a storm.

"Vazral," he finally spoke, his deep tone of voice rolling out seamlessly like a tranquil river on a moonlit night.

"I've waited long enough for you to come out of your slumber," he said.

"You better have a good reason why you told me to spare that boy's life."

Who was the man even talking to? There was no other person in the room besides him... right?

The golden-eyed man stood in complete silence for a full five minutes, merely staring at the black-framed mirror.

The whole thing was eerie, to be honest, but the weirdness had only just begun.

Suddenly, the reflection in the mirror slowly started changing. Golden eyes transformed to pitch black, perfect white teeth elongated to become yellow razor-sharp fangs, and last but not least, neck-length black hair grew longer to the point that it brushed against the floor.

Within a minute, the devilish transformation was complete and the final result was both bizarre and shocking.

On one side of the mirror stood a handsome man with golden eyes, but on the mirror's reflection was an entirely different image.

The 'thing' in the mirror grinned widely from ear to ear, revealing two rows of razor-sharp yellow fangs and four, long terrifying canines. And then, in a voice completely different from the golden-eyed man's, it replied, albeit very slowly:

"That boy... you cannot kill him. No, you should not kill him."

It paused, then said something that took the golden-eyed man completely by surprise.

"Malik, that boy... He's like us."

Elsewhere...

The sun was scorching hot, blazing ruthlessly on the arid desert plains of the remote country.

While big cities had Wind magic infused cooling artifacts, out here in the outskirts, it was a dog-eat-dog world.

A giant man clad in shiny black plate armor trodded along a small dusty road. With short hair, a goatee on his chin, and a sharp look in his eyes, he possessed a rugged sort of handsomeness.

He was also large, though. Very large in fact, his height spanned well above two meters.

A heavy-looking greatsword was sheathed across his back but for the man, it was but a small burden to carry.

Soon, he arrived at a tavern. It was an old rickety building in a small town that was cut off from the rest of the empire.

Ghost Haven, as the place was known, was by all means, a sh*tty place to be, however, it was also the place the man he was pursuing was last seen.

When he entered the half-empty establishment, the man attracted quite a few stares, however, none lingered too much.

After all, who would want to offend such a big, scary-looking man?

The man walked to the counter where the bartender, a sixty-something-year-old man gulped before coming to attend to him.

"H...how can I help you good sir?" he stammered.

Not bothering to answer, the large man fetched a neatly folded piece of paper from his breastplate before laying it gently on the bar counter.

"Open it," he said or rather, demanded.

The poor bartender nodded hastily as he opened the paper with trembling hands. By now, everyone's attention was locked on the two of them.

The old bartender unfolded the paper to see a sketch drawing of a hooded individual with red, glowing eyes. The instant he saw it, he panicked and dropped the paper in fright.

Dedric narrowed his eyes at the man's reaction. That, right there, had just shown him that the old man had the information he wanted.

He calmly picked up the paper, folded it once again, then carefully put it back in his pocket as if it were a prized possession.

"This person on the drawing, where is he?" he asked.

The old guy looked like he was about to shit himself.

"I don't, I don't-"

"Think carefully old man," Dedric warned.

"Either you lie to me and I kill you right here and now, or, you tell me the truth, I go on my merry way and hopefully, I'll kill that man before he comes back here and kills you himself.

"Honestly, it's your choice," he said as he cracked his neck.