In the kingdom that was nearly destroyed, the cracked stone throne finally moved.
A figure in a black hood stood. Its steps were slow, but every footfall made the ancient floor tremble. Before it, the black water in the bowl still displayed the faces of Arka and Elara standing at the riverbank.
“Enough.”
It raised a hand. The shadow in the corner of the room moved. A figure emerged—taller than the previous hunter, its skin not cracked black but dark silver, like living metal. Its eyes were not red. They were empty.
“Go,” the master ordered. “Bring the heir back alive. The girl… let her see.”
The envoy bowed once, then vanished into a rift that opened in the air. In the human world, Arka sensed it first.
He was standing on the roof of a small house with Elara. The night wind blew hard, carrying a smell he had never encountered before—the scent of old iron and blood dried over many years.
Elara tensed as well. Her face went pale. “He sent it.”
“Who?” Arka asked.
Elara did not answer right away. She stared at the sky, which had suddenly grown darker. “The one who’s been hunting your blood since before you were born. The one who made your mother run. The one who wants to take that pendant from your neck… and take me from your side.”
Arka tightened his grip on Elara’s hand. The power inside his body stirred restlessly, greater than before. “How much longer?”
“Not long.”
The rift opened in the middle of the empty field behind the school.
It wasn’t a small rift like the first hunter’s. This time, the air split wide open, releasing a silver mist. The envoy stepped out. Its body was tall, its movements slow, but every step made the ground crack. There was no sound. Only a presence that pressed against their chests.
Arka and Elara came down from the roof.
They stood facing the creature beneath the suddenly dimmed moonlight. The wind around Arka spun wildly, ready to strike. Elara stood beside him, her hands already glowing green-gold.
The envoy stopped. Its head tilted. Then it spoke in a voice that wasn’t its own—the voice of the master who had sent it.
“Heir. At last.”
Arka stepped forward. “Tell your master this. I’m not going anywhere.”
The envoy didn’t answer. It raised a hand. The air around it transformed into invisible blades.
“This isn’t an ordinary hunter. It’s a direct envoy. Don’t let it touch you.”
The battle began without warning.
The air blades slashed toward them. Arka cut them apart with his own wind. Elara formed a green shield in front of both of them. The impact cracked the ground beneath their feet. Dust flew everywhere.
The envoy moved fast. Too fast. One attack nearly struck Arka’s neck. Elara shoved him aside, her body pressed against Arka for a moment before they separated again.
“TOGETHER!” Elara shouted.
They joined their winds. Green and wild collided, forming a small storm in the middle of the field. The envoy was forced backward, but it didn’t fall. It only stared at them, as if assessing them.
Then it spoke again in its master’s voice.
“That girl has been lying to you, heir. She’s always been lying. That pendant was never yours to begin with.”
Arka froze for a moment. Elara turned toward him, her face tense. “Don’t listen.”
But the words had already taken root. The envoy attacked again. More viciously. Arka was almost too late to block it. Elara was wounded in the arm. Green-gold blood dripped down.
Arka grew furious.
The power he had just received exploded out of control. The wind became a true storm. The trees at the edge of the field snapped. The envoy was finally hurled into the iron fence, its silver body cracking.
But it wasn’t dead yet.
It rose slowly, staring at Arka and Elara as they stood side by side, breathing hard, their hands still clasped together.
“This is only the beginning,” the voice said through the envoy’s mouth. “The master will come himself.”
Then the silver body shattered into dust, which the wind immediately swept away.
Silence returned.
Arka turned to Elara. The wound on her arm was still bleeding. “What did it mean? That the pendant isn’t mine?”
Elara lowered her head. Her hair covered her face. “I’ll tell you. But not tonight.”
“I’ve made my choice. I’m not backing down. But don’t hide anything from me anymore.”
“Tomorrow. I promise.”
Above them, the sky was still dark. The wind spun slowly around the two bodies standing far too close together. And in the distant kingdom, the master laughed softly atop the cracked throne.
The real game had just begun.