Chapter 287 The Weight of Knowledge T

The distant clang of horseshoes echoed through the cobbled courtyard as the carriage carrying Meus creaked to a halt. The butler, bloodied armor hidden beneath a dark cloak, stepped out, his expression as unreadable as ever. The chill of the night clung to him as he strode purposefully toward the castle's grand hall, the faint light of the moon casting his shadow across the ancient stones.

Duke Torin waited in the study, pacing before the roaring hearth. The flames cast flickering shadows on the walls, mirroring the turmoil in his heart. His hands were clasped behind his back, his fingers drumming against his knuckles. The days had been long, filled with endless calculations and careful diplomacy, but tonight brought something different—a sense of foreboding that had settled deep in his chest.

The heavy door creaked open, and Meus stepped inside, his steps purposeful yet heavy with exhaustion. He paused to bow deeply before speaking.

"My lord," Meus began, his voice even but tinged with something uncharacteristic—hesitation.

Torin turned, his sharp eyes locking onto the butler. "You've returned," he said, his voice quiet yet commanding. "Is she safe?"

"She is," Meus confirmed, standing straight. "Young Miss Nova is unharmed."

Torin exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, but the relief was short-lived as Meus continued.

"My lord, there is much to discuss. What I witnessed during the rescue… defies logic."

Torin raised an eyebrow, gesturing for Meus to continue. "Speak plainly."

Meus recounted the events of the rescue in painstaking detail, his words weaving a picture of chaos, violence, and the unimaginable power that Nova had displayed. He spoke of the green light, the roots that tore through their enemies, and the way the child had calmly orchestrated the entire event as though it were a game.

Torin listened intently, his expression unreadable, though his hands tightened behind his back. When Meus spoke of the resurrection of Aeress and Maerti, Torin's breath hitched ever so slightly.

"And she asked you to remove the bracelet?" Torin asked, his voice low.

"Yes, my lord," Meus confirmed. "And when it was removed, the air itself seemed to change. It was as if nature bowed to her will."

Torin turned toward the fire, his gaze distant. "If that man Zero could resurrect Zuria," he muttered, almost to himself, "then why wouldn't his daughter also wield power akin to the Creator?"

Meus hesitated before pressing on. "My lord, with power like that, we could—"

"No," Torin interrupted, his tone sharp. He turned to face Meus, his expression fierce. "You think to use her as a weapon? To unleash such power on the Royal family and their allies?"

"My lord," Meus began carefully, "with her abilities, we could end this conflict swiftly. The Royal family, the noble houses, even Acesh's Magic Tower—none would stand a chance."

"And then what?" Torin demanded. His voice rose, echoing off the stone walls. "Do you think Nova, a child, should carry the burden of such horrors? Do you think Zero would stand idly by and allow us to use her as a pawn?"

Meus said nothing, his jaw tightening. He had known this would be Torin's response, yet he had hoped the gravity of their situation might sway his master's resolve.

Torin sighed, his shoulders slumping as the weight of his memories pressed down on him. "No," he said, quieter this time. "No child should endure war. Shia… she never held a grudge. Her soul moved on. Not even Zero could bring her back."

There was a pause, heavy with unspoken grief. Meus lowered his gaze, unsure how to respond.

"Let us not speak of using Nova again," Torin said firmly. "We will fight this war ourselves. No matter how insurmountable the odds, we will face them with our own strength."

Before Meus could reply, there was a soft knock at the door. It creaked open to reveal Princess Phelantha, her golden hair catching the firelight. Her green eyes, sharp and cold, locked onto Torin.

"I see you've returned," she said, her voice smooth but laced with tension. "And just in time. I have news."

Torin gestured for her to enter. "What is it, Pia?"

She stepped inside, closing the door behind her. In her hands was a thick leather-bound tome, its cover worn from centuries of use. She set it down on the table with deliberate care.

"I've finished decoding the vault's access sequence," she announced, her voice steady but her eyes glinting with restrained emotion. "The vault beneath Aepilia's ruins is ready to be opened."

Torin's breath caught. The legendary vault, said to hold the Alvs' greatest technological achievements, had been a source of mystery and hope for the enslaved Alves who spoke of it. If its contents were as powerful as the legends claimed, they could shift the balance of power in the ongoing war.

"And what do you propose we do with this knowledge?" Torin asked carefully.

Pia's lips curled into a grim smile. "What else? Use it to destroy our enemies."

Torin's brow furrowed. "You mean the Royal family, the noble houses, and the Magic Tower?"

"Yes," Pia said, her voice firm. "And every kingdom that betrayed and attacked my people—Enia, Blesas, all of them. They will fall."

Torin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Pia, I understand your rage. I share it. But if we destroy them all, what will remain? Chaos. Anarchy. We must rebuild, not annihilate."

Pia's eyes narrowed. "You sound like you're defending them."

"I'm not," Torin said sharply. "I'm trying to ensure that when this war is over, there is still a world worth living in."

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the crackle of the fire. Then Meus spoke.

"My lord," he said quietly, "forty Alvs arrived today. Their condition… it's worse than the last group."

Pia's fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms. "And how many more are coming?" she demanded.

"Over three hundred," Meus replied. "Men, women, and children. They're being smuggled into our territory as we speak."

The tension in the room thickened. Torin's gaze flicked to Pia, whose face was a mask of barely contained fury.

"They're broken," Pia said, her voice trembling. "Our people… shattered by slavery. Their children, born of a violence I dare not speak of… How do you propose we rebuild a kingdom with them?"

"With patience," Torin said softly. "And hope. We've done everything we can to bring them here safely. Now, we must help them heal."

Pia looked away, her shoulders trembling. "You're too kind, Torin. Too soft. I want justice."

"And you'll have it," Torin assured her. "But on the terms we agree upon when you first came to me. Not through unchecked vengeance."

Pia turned to him, her eyes blazing. "Then you'd best open that vault soon, Torin. Because patience and hope won't protect us from what's coming."

With that, she swept out of the room, leaving Torin and Meus in heavy silence.

Torin sank into a chair, rubbing his temples. "She's right about one thing," he muttered. "We need what's in that vault."

Meus nodded. "Then we must move quickly, my lord. Before our enemies realize what we've found. We still haven't captured all the Acesh spies in our territory."

Torin gazed into the fire, his mind racing. The vault was the hope he needed, but it was also a Pandora's box. Once opened, there would be no turning back. He was sure Acesh and Eoqelon would attack them in full force to claim whatever he found. Not to mention Enia and Blesas who believed that such marvels should not exist in this world.

"Very well," he said at last. "Prepare a team. We leave at dawn."

And so, the wheels of destiny turned once more, their path shrouded in uncertainty.