THE HEART CORE OF DRAEGO MOUNTAIN

ALBANUS POV

When Maxwell sent the guard to wake me up in the middle of the night, I stepped out of bed hurriedly and asked the guard to let him into my house. I stood in the living room as he walked in and his eyes locked onto mine with a seriousness that made the room feel smaller, colder. His voice was low, measured—barely more than a whisper—as though what he was about to ask carried the weight of something forbidden.

"Albanus," he said, his tone sharper than usual. "Do you know where the heart core of Draego Mountain is? "

The question hung in the air between us, thick with implication. I stiffened at the mention of it, though I tried to keep my expression neutral. Inside, though, my thoughts were racing. That name hadn't been spoken aloud in decades—not even among those who served Draego as long as I had. Most thought it was a legend, an old myth spun from fear and superstition about Mountains, but Maxwell was the chosen one by the mountains.