Chapter Thirty-One:When Shadows Are Tested – The Prophecy of the First Wound

On the rooftop of the Shadow Palace, where the air was thick with stillness, Arthur stood alone.

The wind toyed with his silver strands, his closed eyes as if listening to an inaudible call.

A strange pulse stirred within him… no sound, no vision—only a dormant waiting… as though something deep inside had decided to awaken.

On the other side of the kingdom, specifically in alleys where pillars still longed for roofs, Sajibro had silently slipped away from the palace.

He told no one, left no guard, as if even the shadows respected his desire to vanish.

He walked through the newborn city, watching columns rise from the rubble of his old era… when a soft bump halted his steps.

He stopped.

A human child, barely ten years old, had fallen to the ground, clutching a water bucket that spilled mostly into the dust.

Sajibro approached with steady steps and bent down slowly, as if touching a forgotten memory from his past.

In a voice gentler than anyone had ever heard from him, he asked:

> "Are you hurt?"

The boy looked up hesitantly, eyes caught between awe of presence and the weight of the name:

> "You… are you the king?"

Sajibro did not answer. He simply extended a hand, helped the boy up, and placed his palm on his head for a fleeting moment… like a silent baptism.

Then he gestured for the child to return to his mother, who was watching from afar in silent fear.

Sajibro remained alone in the alley.

He closed his eyes.

Then whispered to himself:

> "What is this… feeling?"

A pause… then he muttered like sentencing himself:

> "Maybe… these emotions… will be what destroys me one day."

When he returned to the command hall, the leaders were already gathered beneath the flame of the blue table.

He said nothing… but as he entered, something shifted in the air.

That harsh dignity that had always blanketed the place seemed to crack—an invisible fissure… but it was felt.

He walked straight to Arthur and looked into his eyes.

> "I have planted the power… but it's unlike any power you know."

He touched his forehead with a finger and continued:

> "You won't summon it… it will awaken on its own.

When the first wound comes… the wound only you can see… when you break in silence, you will burn… and be born."

Silence followed.

The leaders exchanged glances—some tense, as though the prophecy touched them in ways unspoken.

But before anyone could leave, a strange sound pierced the room—

A whistle unlike any human signal, not even one of Raizen's.

It was like a twisted melody leaking from a dimension forgotten at the dawn of creation.

Leon Azur's eyes snapped open. He said firmly:

> "That's not Raizen… this is older."

The flame on the table changed—

from blue to a turbulent mix of violet and silver.

Cain placed a hand on his weapon's hilt and said:

> "One of the Ancients has arrived… neither of the Light… nor the Shadows."

And from behind the veil came a voice—

Source unknown, inhuman in tone:

> "Those who built the First Gate… are starting to awaken."

Sajibro slowly turned. He did not smile.

His voice emerged like a truth only he understood:

> "The Throne… wasn't the only thing sealed."

Then, on the central shadow screen, a strange face appeared—

Half made of radiant light, the other half a scorched burn.

It spoke in a voice from a time that was never recorded:

> "Return to me what was taken…

Or I shall return this world to its first ashes."

And so… the chapter ends.