In A Wait Of Desperation.

The palace stood isolated in a desolate region, far removed from peasant civilization. This distance was necessary because of the overwhelming mana emitted by the royal family. Unlike the faint traces released by commoners, the royal bloodline radiated mana in immense quantities—so much so that it made life unbearable for ordinary people anywhere near the palace.

The palace was no ordinary feat of architecture. Its entire structure was designed in the shape of a hexagon—some even saw the outline of a diamond—granting it both formidable strength and a sense of profound elegance. Its symmetry and sharp lines drew the eyes like a spell; anyone who gazed upon it couldn't help but feel a deep sense of awe and fascination.

The size of it was not even comparable to normal measurement as a very normal human being looked like a insect in front of it. This made it stand out lot more then any Architecture in the kingdom. And also the dimensions of this eccentric structure was comparable to that of two cities. 

Therefore, the palace was primarily divided into four wings: Northern, Eastern, Western and Southern wings connecting Central Corridor.

 Meanwhile,

In the Southern Wing in one of the room, a loud painful echo of a woman can be heard all around the chambers. Her pain is raw and unfiltered. This situation made every attendant in that wing to be restless and anxious. 

It was dedicated entirely to storage and utility, this wing housed a vast array of valuable items—ancient artifacts, enchanted weapons like swords, spears, and shields, and countless other treasures. Within its halls were specialized chambers: a medical care unit for Royals and wounded soldiers. A blacksmith's warehouse for forging and maintenance, and a grand library—one of the most unique and revered places in the entire palace.

The Southern Wing faced the Nightfall Forest, a haunting expanse that comes to life under the cover of darkness. During the day, a thick veil of poisonous smoke drifted through its trees which covers it in a white coat of smoke.

"Don't worry, my Queen," a voice of an attendant spoke gently, trying to calm her nerves. "Everything is going to be fine."

"Ahh... it hurts..." the Queen gasped, her voice trembling between sobs. "I don't know if I can take it..."

The pain etched itself across her face, sweat beading on her brow as she clutched the silk sheets beneath her. Every breath was a struggle, every second felt like eternity. 

It was said that the woman with balanced mana core patterns, could bear the child of a fruit bearer. But then too, The pain which the mother of the heir has too to face is inevitable. Even if she is suitable for the child. And its not only for this case but also for general too except the fact that there surge in leak less then the former.

"Bring a pile of enchanted sheets! Her mana flow is getting unstable," the Head Kumara ( Kumara are said to be divine healers in Vedic literature.) shouted, his voice sharp with urgency. "We have to contain it—now! Go!"

The attendant flinched but wasted no time, vanishing through the doorway as the room trembled faintly with each surge of the Queen's power. 

We're in luck the entire room is lined with Mana Mantras as precautions. But still cant take the risk of Mana overflowing outside the room otherwise this overwhelming Mana could have caused the birth of Mana Storm, The head thought to himself.

But still its impressive to think that one person came up with a idea of making a room enchanted with Mantra which have made every object in this room to observe this Mana patterns.

Within minutes, the attendant returned, arms full of glowing enchanted sheets. Without hesitation, Kumara—the mana specialist—began placing them carefully around the Queen, tracing the boundaries of her body with practiced precision. As the runes in the fabric aligned with her energy field, the wild flares of mana began to subside slightly, the air stabilizing just enough to allow her to breathe more steadily.

It eased the storm around her, but not within. The unforgiving pain, continued to tear through her as the mana overflowed from deep inside her core—uncontrolled and relentless.

"My Queen, can you hear me?" the Head Doctor leaned closer, his voice gentle yet steady. "We're about to begin the birthing process. I need you to be strong—strong as a warrior in this battle of pain and frustration. You are not alone. We are all with you."

He paused, wiping the sweat from his brow as he glanced at the surging mana flickering around her.

"We've received word—Lord Miguel is on his way. If he arrives in time, his exceptional skills may help ease your suffering. Hold on, Your Majesty… just a little longer."

It wasn't just the surroundings that were affected by the Queen's overflowing mana—the people, too, began to feel its weight. Those with weaker mana patterns, even among the skilled, found themselves struggling to stay conscious. No matter how exceptional one's talent was, if they didn't belong to the Higher Order of Royals, they couldn't withstand the raw force radiating from her.

Mana didn't discriminate by skill—it overwhelmed by nature.

Whereas on the South Eastern wing, 

Lord Miguel and Lady Rose quickened their pace the moment they heard the Queen's anguished cry echo through the Southern Wing. The sound gripped their hearts with dread—it was not the cry of mere labor, but something far more volatile.

We're in luck, Miguel thought grimly, that the Emperor and most of his court are away due to the situation in Riyadh. So it will become little easy for me to perform the ritual and no one will be able to know about it. 

The desperation started to become evident in their body language. But both remained focused especially Lord Miguel who distracted himself by thinking of different technique or spells he could use from the Book of Reverence and also from his own to minimize the sacrifice because of the Spell he may have to perform if the test fails. 

The sheer number of spells Lord Miguel performed—and the speed at which he brought them to completion—was beyond comparison. Faster than any High-Grade Sorcerer in the entire kingdom, perhaps even the entire planet. Not only that the spells he performs are not less then perfection unless an external factor is added to the  spell. 

This extraordinary ability wasn't just talent—it was the result of a dangerous spell he had cast on himself as an eleven-year-old child. In a feat of reckless genius, Miguel had linked his mana flow directly to his brain, creating a fusion that multiplied his cognitive processing ten times. His mind didn't just think—it surged through possibilities like a storm of logic and instinct, far surpassing even the most gifted High Graders.

Keeping the pace they start to hear the rise in intensity of voice as they come closer to the room. Though still filled with pain, the cries were slightly less agonizing than the ones they had heard just minutes before.

"So... what's the plan?" Rose asked, her voice low but firm as they approached the wing. "How are we going to handle this? There'll be a lot of attendants with the Queen—and Kumara's already in there."

"Well we have to distract them in the name of Emperors words, eventually they have to obey them."

"But Kumara wont listen to your simple lies even if you speak it truthfully, he is a stubborn one...you know that right."

"Don't worry, I have a plan for that too. Just have faith in me."

As soon as they reached the chamber doors, the agonizing scream that had guided them through the palace abruptly ceased—replaced by the sharp, clear cry of a newborn.

Both Lord Miguel and Rose froze.

That cry could mean only one thing: the young prince had been born.

A rush of relief washed over them, but it was quickly followed by a wave of anxious uncertainty. The silence that followed felt too heavy, too still.

At that moment, the chamber doors creaked open, and Kumara stepped out, the glow of residual mana still flickering faintly around his hands. He looked visibly exhausted—his robes damp with sweat, his breathing steady but labored.

He paused as he noticed Miguel and Rose standing just outside.

"Well," he said with a half-smile, brushing out his sweat from his face, "you took your time getting here, Lord Miguel. I expected you to be here before the hard part of the delivery." 

His tone was teasing, but there was a glint of genuine relief in his eyes.

"Because I believed in you," he replied smoothly. "I knew you'd be able to handle the situation on your own. You're a talented practitioner in your field, Kumara—one of the best."

His voice carried genuine respect, though the faint grin on his face hinted at the familiar rivalry between them.

"Don't flatter me with your words, Lord Miguel," Kumara said, shaking his head with a tired smile. "You're the one with exceptional skills and talents. I'm just doing my duty—as any Kumara should."

He paused, his expression sobering slightly.

"But still... your presence would've helped. It might've made the process less painful for Her Majesty. The mana overflow was nearly catastrophic. She held on stronger then i imagined her to be...I think its all because she is all grown up now." 

Without another word, Miguel stepped forward and gently placed a hand on Kumara's shoulder. The gesture spoke louder than anything he could have said.

Exhausted but comforted, Kumara looked up. Their eyes met—no rivalry, no titles—just mutual respect forged through years of service and shared burdens. A genuine smile passed between them, quiet and brief, but filled with meaning.

In that fleeting silence, they both understood: the hardest part was over.

The moment was brief.

"I have a favor to ask of you," he said quietly, his tone suddenly more serious.

Kumara's smile faded slightly, replaced by curiosity and a trace of concern. "Of course, Miguel. What is it?"

I want you and your attendants to leave the room," Miguel said softly, his eyes fixed on the chamber. "Let me and my wife handle Her Majesty's condition from here."

He paused, sensing Kumara's hesitation.

"I know you're skeptical of my request," he added, reaching into his pocket-retrieving the scroll of authority.

But before he could retrieve it, Kumara gently caught his hand, stopping him.

"You don't need to prove anything to me, Lord Miguel," he said firmly, yet with warmth in his voice. "This moment is critical—for Her Majesty, for you, and for the entire kingdom. I trust your judgment."

He gave a slight nod. "The room is yours."

"Before, leaving let me fill you up with her and baby condition." 

After the short briefing about it, Kumara called out all the attendants to leave the room and go to their own cells. Without any further delay all of them left to their rooms. 

Before stepping away, Kumara turned back one last time. His expression had softened, the weight of responsibility now gently passed on.

"You don't have to worry about anything," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. "They're both in stable condition."

He paused, then added more quietly, "But because of the mana overflow... your sister will need time. A lot of it. Her body has grown pale and weak—she's burned through more strength than most could ever endure."

Kumara met Miguel's eyes, the sincerity in his voice unmistakable."So take care of her. For me."

With that, he gave a final nod and turned to the other end of the hall which lead to his own chamber.

Both Rose and Miguel exchanged a glance—one filled with quiet relief. Convincing Kumara hadn't taken the effort they had anticipated. Perhaps he, too, understood their concern about her condition.

As Miguel reached for the chamber door, Rose's voice gently stopped him.

"Are you really going to perform that?" she asked, her tone steady but tinged with concern. "If it fails..."

Miguel paused, his hand resting on the ornate handle. He didn't turn back, only let out a slow breath.

"We'll only know," he said calmly, "after we open the door."

And with that, the silence between them deepened—heavy with risk, hope, and everything that lay beyond those doors.

Meanwhile, near the Main entrance in Northern Wing,

"Do you feel that?" one of the palace guards asked, his brows furrowing as a subtle tremor of energy stirred the air. "The mana pattern... it's shifted."

"Yeah," the other replied, eyes narrowing toward the horizon. "It feels... familiar. I think the Emperor is close. Too close."

"But wasn't he supposed to return in a few weeks?" the first one asked, confused.

The second guard gave a dry, knowing smirk. "You really think he'd wait around after hearing his only child is about born!"