[Eastern Zahryssar — Imperial Encampment — The Next Morning]

Morning across Eastern Zahryssar arrived beneath restless winds.

The imperial encampment remained unusually silent after the horrors of Sah’qir. Even the blue serpent flames surrounding the tents burned lower today, as though the desert itself sensed something unnatural had returned.

Far from the central imperial tent, inside an isolated guest tent guarded heavily by imperial knights, sat Slyvarakh alone.

Completely alone, and somehow that made him even more terrifying. The tent interior had already begun changing unnaturally. Black corruption spread slowly beneath the carpets. Silver flames flickered against bronze lanterns without consuming them.

The air itself felt rotten, heavy, and wrong. Meanwhile, Slyvarakh lounged lazily upon a chair placed near the open tent curtains.

One arm resting against the armrest. Silver eyes half-lidded while desert winds moved through his long, silver hair.

But now he looked far less like a serpent and far more like a monster wearing royal skin because black-and-silver scales had begun spreading visibly across his body.

Rotting scales, ancient scales, some silver and some pitch-black. As though corruption and royalty were fighting beneath his flesh itself.

The scales around his neck looked cracked and decaying. Almost dead, yet somehow still alive enough to move faintly beneath the skin.

And every few moments black smoke escaped slowly from between those rotten scales, like his body itself could no longer contain the witchcraft inside him.

Slyvarakh quietly stared outside the tent afterward. Toward the distant imperial carriage, standing near the emperor’s encampment. The golden imperial emblem shimmered beneath morning sunlight.

Then slowly he smiled, beautifully and madly, as his silver eyes softened strangely.

"...you truly became magnificent after murdering me, little brother."

The winds outside the tent suddenly darkened because even speaking seemed enough to awaken the witchcraft sleeping inside them. Then slowly Slyvarakh leaned his head back against the chair.

Closing his eyes briefly, almost imagining something, a faint chuckle escaped him.

"I shall reclaim it all, my throne and my empire." His silver eyes reopened slowly afterward, dangerous and hungry now.

"...my kingdom."

And then his gaze drifted toward the imperial tent far away. Toward the place where Levin remained. Immediately something dark entered his expression, possessive, obsessive, and almost fascinated.

"That consort of yours..." His voice lowered softly. "...what an extraordinary creature."

The black-and-silver scales near his throat shifted slightly, cracking further and rotting further. Yet somehow the more monstrous he became, the calmer he looked.

***

[Other side of the Imperial encampment]

Meanwhile, outside across the imperial encampment, morning winds moved softly between the tents. Imperial knights remained stationed everywhere after last night’s chaos.

No one relaxed anymore, not after learning an imperial could return from death itself.

Levin stepped out from the imperial tent quietly afterward. Blue robes drifted lightly beneath the desert winds while several knights immediately lowered themselves respectfully.

"We greet the Malika."

Levin nodded faintly while walking through the encampment, still deep in thought and still thinking about Slyvarakh, the grave bones, the witchcraft, and the strange fear hidden beneath Zeramet’s silence.

Then suddenly—

"I greet the Maaaalikaaaaa—!" Two figures appeared out of nowhere directly beside him.

Levin visibly flinched and instantly—

SHIIIIIIINGGGG!!!

Imperial swords surrounded both siblings’ throats within seconds. Raviel froze dramatically, then slowly looked downward toward the blades touching his neck, and he blinked once.

"...wow. My neck is extremely expensive to place between swords."

Meanwhile, Zyvera looked around nervously as she whispered urgently. "I told you imperial serpents are terrifying. We can still leave and pretend we were never born."

Immediately Raviel pinched her arm hard.

"OW—!"

"Will you stop speaking?!" He hissed under his breath. "You are making us look suspicious."

"We ARE suspicious!"

Levin stared at both siblings silently, and then slowly he lifted one hand toward the knights. Giving permission. Immediately the swords were lowered. Though the imperial knights still looked ready to decapitate them at any second.

Raviel dramatically touched his neck afterward, clearly offended, and he sighed heavily. "I nearly lost my beautiful long neck...what a tragic morning."

Levin finally spoke dryly as his blue eyes narrowed slightly. "If you continue appearing silently beside imperials...you will definitely lose that precious neck one day."

Zyvera immediately gulped, then quietly whispered toward Raviel, "Who spread the rumor that the Malika possesses a tender heart...?"

"Would you SHUT UP already?" Raviel muttered through clenched teeth.

Then immediately he straightened, and the bow deepened. Expression turning serious for once. "I apologize for disturbing you, Malika...but I possess something extremely important to show you."

Levin furrowed slightly afterward because Raviel’s tone had changed completely: no jokes, no teasing, only seriousness.

"...what is it?"

Raviel glanced briefly around the imperial camp, toward the knights and toward the nearby tents. Then quietly he lowered his voice. "This cannot be discussed carelessly outside."

Even Zyvera stopped joking now, her expression turning uneasy too.

"It is better..." Raviel continued carefully. "...if we speak alone."

Levin stared at both siblings silently afterward. Long enough to realize they were not playing around this time. Then finally he sighed softly while rubbing his temple.

"You two truly attract trouble naturally."

"That is a very cruel accusation, Malika." Raviel answered immediately.

"...coming from a serpent literally chased by imperial swords every two seconds," Levin replied instantly.

Silence.

Then Zyvera quietly muttered, "...he’s actually correct."

"SHUT. UP," Raviel whispered.

Levin almost smiled faintly. Almost. Then finally he turned toward one of the imperial knights. "Escort them to the council tent."

The knight immediately bowed. "As you command, Malika."

Levin looked back toward the siblings afterward. "I will arrive shortly."

Raviel immediately smiled brightly again. As though moments ago, his throat was not nearly sliced open. "We shall await your arrival, Malika."

Levin nodded once before continuing past them through the imperial encampment. Meanwhile behind him, Zyvera leaned slightly toward Raviel.

Then whispered nervously: "...If Malik Zeramet appears suddenly...we are definitely dying today."

Raviel went silent briefly. Then quietly nodded. "...that possibility is extremely high."

"Then why are we still here?"

"Because unfortunately..." Raviel sighed dramatically. "...poverty makes people brave."

Zyvera stared at him flatly. "We are not poor."

"We absolutely are."

Meanwhile, far away from their nonsense, Levin walked quietly toward the back section of the imperial encampment. The atmosphere there felt different, quieter and heavier.

Several imperial knights guarded the isolated tent carefully, and the moment they noticed Levin, they immediately bowed deeply.

"We greet the Malika."

Levin stopped near the entrance afterward. Then quietly he said, "Make certain no one enters this tent without my permission...not even the malik."

The knights visibly froze for one brief second. Then immediately bowed deeper. "As you command, Malika."

And just like that, Levin entered the tent, and darkness greeted him first. The tent remained dimly lit by only one blue serpent flame burning softly nearby.

And within the center sat a small golden birdcage. Inside it, Iru remained trapped in his eagle form. Wings lowered, head bowed and silent.

But the moment he heard footsteps, the eagle slowly looked upward, and immediately his eyes widened.

"...Malika."

Levin quietly walked closer toward the cage afterward, and for several moments he simply stared at it silently. The chains, the sealing magic, and the isolation. Then softly he spoke.

"I apologize for failing to protect you, Iru."

The eagle visibly froze, immediately shaking his head as his wings fluttered anxiously.

"Malika—! Please do not shame me by apologizing to a mere attendant like myself." He lowered himself deeper inside the cage. "I would gladly remain imprisoned forever if it protects you."

Levin’s expression softened faintly afterward, and slowly he reached his hand through the cage bars, gently rubbing the eagle’s head.

"I am not apologizing as a Malika to an attendant." His voice lowered softly. "I am apologizing...to my closest friend who never abandoned my side."

Silence lingered afterward.

Warm and painful silence. Then slowly Iru nudged his head gently against Levin’s palm like a bird seeking comfort, and his voice became quieter.

"I trust you, Malika. I know you will never allow the serpents to devour me."

Levin smiled faintly, small and soft and rare as his fingers brushed carefully through the eagle’s feathers.

"Yes...I will protect you."

For several moments neither spoke. Only the soft sound of desert winds moving outside the tent remained. Then finally Iru asked quietly, "What happened to Sah’qir village, Malika?"

"The corruption is almost gone," Levin answered calmly. "We shall leave Eastern Zahryssar by afternoon."

Iru nodded slowly afterward, then carefully, almost hesitantly, he asked, "...did you discover the culprit? if Malika allows me to know."

And immediately Levin fell silent; the atmosphere inside the tent shifted subtly afterward because even now speaking that name aloud felt strange, wrong, and heavy.

Then finally Levin answered quietly. "That is precisely why I came here."

Iru tilted his head slightly as he listened carefully.

"We discovered..." Levin’s blue eyes darkened thoughtfully. "...the one responsible for Sah’qir...was none other than the previous emperor."

The eagle visibly stilled.

"...Slyvarakh."

Silence, and then suddenly—Iru violently flinched inside the cage, his wings lifting sharply and his eyes widening completely as his voice almost trembled.

"The previous emperor...Slyvarakh Malik is alive?"

Levin slowly nodded as his expression hardened slightly. "Yes, he was the one who turned innocent villagers into sacrifices and—"

But before Levin could continue—Iru suddenly interrupted.

"Our greatest Malik..."

Levin froze.

"Our heaven-blessed emperor is alive?"

The eagle’s entire expression transformed instantly—not horror, not fear, but joy.

Pure joy. His wings fluttered excitedly inside the cage, eyes shining brightly, almost emotionally.

"This is wonderful news, Malika!"

Levin stared at him silently, confused and shocked. Meanwhile, Iru continued almost breathlessly:

"The true Malik has returned..."

And suddenly, Levin felt cold because the expression on Iru’s face was devotion. The kind reserved for gods.

Yet when Zeramet heard Slyvarakh’s name, his expression turned murderous. And Sarash? Sarash looked like someone watching an ancient nightmare crawl out of its grave.

But Iru... Iru looked happy, deeply happy. Levin slowly stared at the eagle trapped inside the cage and quietly, carefully asked, "...Can you tell me about him?"

Silence swallowed the tent afterward. And somewhere beyond the imperial encampment, the desert winds began howling louder once more.