The Prologue of a New Challenge

"Catch!" the young child shouted, laughter ringing through the air as he tossed a ball to his friend. The village was slowly coming back to life, with children's smiles returning and villagers tirelessly rebuilding the destroyed roads and houses. Surprisingly, the jewels, gold, and money left in the village office had remained untouched. The Head of Finance had inspected the treasure and confirmed its authenticity.

"These jewels," the Head of Finance had said solemnly, "were given in exchange for the life of Preston." Normally, such wealth would be sent to the Fortress, but Germaine had declined, insisting that it be used to rebuild Milano Village. The amount was substantial, enough to bring real change. An accountant from the head fortress had been assigned to manage Milano's finances and teach the villagers proper accounting practices.

Now, Fionella was attending a village meeting where the villagers were choosing a new village chief. To prevent another tyrant from rising to power, they had decided not to elect anyone from Preston's family, although they agreed not to be hostile towards its remaining members.

As Fionella watched the proceedings, a beautiful young girl approached her. "Look, look, you look pretty, young lady," she said with a bright smile. The comment brought back memories of Liana, the young girl Fionella had met on the airship. She wondered how Liana was doing now.

"Thank you," Fionella replied, returning the girl's smile. Reaching into her dimensional space, she retrieved a cute hairpin she had brought from her room. With gentle hands, she placed it in the young girl's hair. "There, now you look even prettier."

The girl beamed, twirling around to show off her new accessory. Fionella felt a warm sense of satisfaction, a small but meaningful moment of connection amidst the larger efforts to rebuild and heal the village.

The meeting continued, with villagers voicing their opinions and casting their votes. The atmosphere was one of hope and determination, a collective resolve to create a better tomorrow for Milano Village. As Fionella observed, she felt a deep sense of pride and responsibility. 

She left the village hall and walked back to the village chief's office. The miasma and darkness that had once plagued the room were gone, thanks to the villagers' diligent cleaning efforts. However, Fionella felt a different kind of energy lingering in the air. Her curiosity piqued, she began to search the room, examining everything from the walls to the tables.

Her gaze settled on a painting hanging on the wall, a portrait of a woman dancing joyfully in the streets. The artwork seemed to draw her in, an inexplicable pull that she couldn't resist. She stepped closer, her eyes fixed on the painting as if it held some hidden secret.

Suddenly, Fionella's mind went blank. Her vision began to darken, and she was overwhelmed by strange voices and eerie laughter echoing in her ears. She tried to move, but her body refused to obey her commands.

"Kekekekeke," the faint but unmistakable laugh of the dark mage echoed in her mind. "Come closer," the sinister voice beckoned, wrapping her in an eerie, almost tangible feeling of dread. She reached out to touch the painting, her movements mechanical and mindless.

Just as her fingers were about to make contact with the canvas, Cassandra burst into the room. "My lady!" she shouted, her voice filled with urgency.

The sudden intrusion jolted Fionella from her trance. She blinked rapidly, her mind clearing as she glanced around the room in confusion. The voices and laughter faded away, leaving her shaken but aware.

"Cassandra," Fionella breathed, her voice unsteady. "What just happened?"

"You were about to touch the painting," Cassandra said, her eyes wide with concern. "Are you alright, my lady?"

Fionella nodded slowly, though her heart was still racing. "I... I think so. But there's something strange about that painting."

Cassandra glanced at the portrait, her expression wary. "We should report this to the others. There might be more remnants of dark magic here than we realized."

Fionella agreed, feeling a chill run down her spine as she looked at the painting one last time. She was certain she had heard the same dark mage calling for her. Biting her lower lip, she realized the Clash Order might be watching their every move. These mages, who practiced the Dark Arts, made the impossible possible.

"The same dark mage trying to call you?" Kairon asked after she recounted what had happened inside the office. Someone from the House of Haven had come upon their urgent request and used a relic to purge the dark remnants. Now, the village, once tortured by darkness, was slowly being purified thanks to them.

"Yes," Fionella said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can feel their eyes on us, waiting for the perfect moment to strike."

Kairon looked at her with concern, his brow furrowing. "Now that we've encountered him, it's only a matter of time before we face him again. We need to be prepared."

Fionella nodded, her resolve hardening. "We will be. We have to be."

"How did the Imperial Palace respond to the report?" Cassandra asked, her curiosity piqued. Kairon had left a day ago to inform the imperial palace of the situation. The Crown Prince had wished to visit the village himself, but due to ongoing diplomatic matters and relations with other countries, he had dispatched some of the elite soldiers of Haris Fortress to help investigate the matter.

"They've taken it very seriously," Kairon replied. "Now that we've confirmed the Clash Order's revival, security around you will be heightened," he said directly to Fionella.

The young Hera was not naive. She knew she had been the target all along. The dark mages longed for immortality, and her Arrow of Life was the key. The Specters wished for life, and her Arrow of Life was still the answer.

"However," Kairon continued, "the Imperial Family and I do not wish to confine you. Your mother shares the same sentiments. As long as you grow stronger, we all grow stronger. Together, we can fight them."

Fionella smiled gratefully. "Thank you."

"For now, we need to meet some of the assembly members from thirty years ago who are rumored to have defeated the organization," Kairon said. "I believe they can help us identify the current leader."

"We?" Fionella asked, raising an eyebrow.

Kairon nodded. "The Crown Prince has given us permission to investigate this matter discreetly. He believes that those of us who have encountered the dark mage personally are best suited for the task."

"Right," Cassandra interjected. "The four great powers cannot act rashly or announce it publicly. There's a possibility that one of them could be connected to the Clash Order, or even the source of it. The Crown Prince must have thought of this ahead."

Fionella nodded thoughtfully. "Does my mother know?"

"She has an idea," Kairon said. "However, for your safety, she won't interfere. It might raise suspicions if she were to get involved directly."

Fionella took a deep breath, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on her shoulders. "We need to be careful. Every move we make must be calculated. If the Clash Order is indeed watching us, we can't afford any mistakes."

Kairon placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We'll get through this,"

The next morning, Fionella continued her training with a troubled mind. Master Diana had to guide her in meditation once more at Mount Halia to clear her thoughts and purify any lingering darkness. Meanwhile, Kairon oversaw the quarters in the morning before returning to the capital in the afternoon.

Today, he would finally return to Haris Fortress along with Andrei. After bidding farewell to the Crown Prince, they began their journey home. Haris Fortress was unchanged, with its people still smiling and young men training hard.

Upon arriving at the castle, Kairon reported everything that had happened to his father in secret. His father, General Lord Gerald, tasked with always being ready by the emperor, could offer limited help for the upcoming secret investigation but did provide valuable advice.

"I was also young at that time, like you," Lord Gerald began, his tone grave. "My father, your grandfather, was the head general when the Clash Order was first known to the public."

"When I ascended to the title, the Clash Order had disappeared, but Specters still lingered," he continued, his eyes reflecting memories of battles past.

Kairon's brows furrowed in thought. "Did the Clash Order create the Specters?"

"No," his father replied, shaking his head. "The Specters existed long before the Clash Order. They are a phenomenon that has haunted our world for hundreds of years. But the Clash Order learned how to control and multiply them, turning them into weapons of terror."

Kairon listened intently, absorbing every word. "So, the Specters are a natural occurrence, but the Clash Order weaponized them?"

"Exactly," Lord Gerald confirmed. "They harnessed the dark energy that animates the Specters and bent it to their will. That's why their return is so dangerous. They have the knowledge and power to bring chaos once more."

Kairon nodded, the weight of his mission pressing heavily on his shoulders. "Thank you, Father. Your insights will be invaluable in our investigation."

Lord Gerald placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "Be careful, Kairon. The Clash Order is a cunning and ruthless enemy. Trust in your comrades and your own strength, and you will prevail."

"I will, Father," Kairon promised, feeling a renewed determination to uncover and thwart the dark mages' plans.

As the day drew to a close, Fionella's mind finally began to clear, and Kairon's resolve strengthened. Both knew the path ahead would be fraught with danger, but they were ready to face it together, united in their cause to protect their world from the encroaching darkness.

To be continued