Enemy clarity and direction to the annual celebration.

The sun rose and set seven times over the Agard family's mansion, with its rays gently streaming through the towering, majestic windows, illuminating the surrounding gardens with a magnificent glow.

Meanwhile, soldiers armed with rifles stood guard around the mansion, their vigilant eyes scanning every direction like wolves on the prowl.

In a room of exquisite design, unmistakable to any observer, where the scent of history mingled with the essence of modern luxury belonging to the Agard family, Akriod stood, gazing at his reflection in a large mirror framed with intricate carvings.

The room was spacious, its walls adorned with glossy wallpaper, upon which intricate artistic designs intertwined, telling a variety of stories.

Wooden shelves stretched across the walls, laden with ancient books, their covers etched with titles in forgotten languages.

On the ceiling, two golden chandeliers hung, casting a warm light that filled the space with a magical atmosphere.

The light beams blended with the subtle reflections of metallic paint covering the room's corners, giving the space a faint glow as if it were floating in a halo of gentle light.

On the polished wooden floor, a handwoven rug lay, its intricate patterns and colors evoking a sense of authenticity.

Akriondwore a dark gray suit with a black tie that lent an air of dignified authority to his appearance. His polished black shoes blended seamlessly with the suit, tailored to exact measurements, creating a visual harmony that caught the eye.

The gray suit jacket he wore further accentuated his look, striking a balance between power and elegance, reflecting both a representative of the Agard family and its master.

He approached the mirror, his eyes studying his reflection as he adjusted his tie.

His graying hair, tinged with strands of white, was meticulously combed to the side. He ensured that every detail was in perfect order.

The moment he had awaited had arrived—the annual celebration, a significant step toward getting to know and drawing closer to the key figures of democracy, a moment unlike any other. He understood that his first steps among this distinguished group would enhance his image as the leader of the Agard family's forces, setting in motion his future plans. With this awareness, he exited the room with assured strides, his presence radiating a commanding authority that preceded him.

As he walked down the long hallway, his gaze was fixed on the windows, where, just outside the mansion gates, a row of elegant carriages stood, each drawn by northern lions with thick, majestic white fur, their bodies almost as large as the carriages themselves.

They waited for him outside the great gate, guarded by soldiers standing in organized ranks in front of each carriage.

Five soldiers, their faces hidden behind black masks, followed him loyally.

As his steps brought him closer to the stairs leading to the lower floor, his mind still lingered on the events of the past days, particularly his conversation with Ronan seven days ago...

_ _ _ _

"Yes, sir, I was truly surprised. I did not expect the great Northern Theocracy to have prior knowledge of the matter." Ronan smiled with pride, as though a cloud of unease had lifted from his heart, replaced by the radiance of joy reflected in his features.

Akriod replied with a fake smile, concealing behind it a shadow of indifference: "As expected from the Supreme Leadership of the Northern Nation."

Inside him, the truth was completely different from what he had shown.

Akriod, who had expected the presence of another hidden enemy, had misjudged this time.

It wasn't their knowledge that shocked him; rather, it was the fact that the Northern Theocracy was the true culprit behind the horrific fire.

And the fact that his name had been written on it bewildered him, as the timing of the fire coincided with his arrival from the future.

What truly unsettled him was not that they were the ones behind it—this was a puzzle to which he could not find an answer.

What bothered him was how they had discovered his plan.

After the destruction of Arkan, his killing of Inar, and his transition to the future—events that occurred in complete secrecy—the coincidence of his arrival timing with the fire that destroyed the mansion where Inar's father's funeral had taken place, as Ronan had previously explained to him, defied all logic.

To him, it had made sense to link the Theocracy's knowledge of his existence to an unknown enemy or organization, given that the Theocracy hadn't been tracking him six months before his transition to the future.

However, this idea now vanished based on what he had heard from Ronan.

The reasoning that once seemed plausible collapsed, leaving him with more questions than answers.

No matter how different the questions are, the important question that occupied his mind was why the Northern Theocracy had not targeted him. Was it part of their plan, or did they not know his whereabouts? The matter remained shrouded in mystery, with no answer in sight.

But he realized, with a clear mind, that despite his wandering through countless assumptions, he was leaning toward the only realistic conclusion, the Northern Theocracy was a force beyond all his calculations.

The ruling theocratic regime has shattered Akriod's expectations, Compelling him to shift his focus toward confronting an unforeseen new reality.

Well, it wasn't that he had underestimated them out of disdain—quite the opposite: "It's not that I'm surprised," he muttered to himself, his voice laced with bewilderment. "As expected from the ruling system of the Northern Edylis Continent, you've uncovered my existence in ways even I can't comprehend."

The Great Northern Theocracy, with its prior knowledge of the fire that occurred, confirmed something Akriod already knew—that its strength extends far beyond its organizational structure.

Its true power lies in its deeply entrenched network of eyes and ears spread across the Northern Continent it governs—a vigilant and ever-prepared force, ready to face any kind of enemy.

Akriod himself stands as living proof of this undeniable reality.

But, "Now the whole picture is clear." He spoke to himself.

The troubling assumptions and possibilities faded away, and he felt a sense of relief.

At least now, the source of his hostility was clear.

The knowledge that the Northern Theocracy was his only enemy relieved him of the burden of dealing with an unknown foe.

Now, he could move with calculated freedom, directing all his efforts toward achieving his goals within the democracy.

The first goal was to discover the locations of the "annual pieces," those mysterious items that were the only key to accessing the hidden library.

The hidden library that holds secret documents serving as the key to reaching the Abyss Prison.

_ _ _ _

The seventh day had arrived since that time. Last week had been filled with administrative tasks for Akriod, as he had to sign and stamp a pile of documents that had accumulated since the death of Inar's father ten days before his arrival in the future.

The gardens, adorned with shimmering water fountains, stretched gracefully as Akriod walked through them.

He eventually arrived at the grand entrance of the mansion, where nine carriages stood in formation.

Eight of them were designated for soldiers and the national guards tasked with safeguarding the Dysar.

In front of the carriage adorned in radiant gold that glimmered under the sunlight stood the one reserved for Lord Inar and his companions, Ronan and his assistant, Liana.

Dressed in her formal uniform, she appeared unwavering and composed. Akriod was unsurprised by her choice to forgo a dress, for after a week of conversations and verbal exchanges with her, he had come to understand her personality.

He knew that her dedication to her duties surpassed all notions of luxury.

Her presence was not one of leisure but one of service and protection, a testament to her unwavering commitment to her role.

However, he had initially believed that her position relied on administrative duties as his personal assistant.

Yet, after reading her profile, he discovered that she had a background in both defensive and offensive martial arts.

She had earned ten first-class medals, all of them at the headquarters of the National Guard.

The soldier opened the door for Akriod, who entered, followed by Liana, and then Ronan, who closed the door behind them.

The nine carriages set off, heading towards the site of the annual celebration.

Where the most important figures of democracy will meet.