Primordial Soul's Rebirth

In Melanochelys, Violet's chamber.

The communication crystal shimmered with a pale blue light, its surface rippling like disturbed water.

Violet sat alone on a high balcony carved into the side of her mansion, the cold wind brushing against her pale skin.

Her fingers gently tapped the edges of the communication crystal, her eyes fixed on the magic-infused surface as it began to glow brighter.

A moment later, a woman's image appeared.

"...Viessa," Violet breathed, a faint smile touching her lips.

Her sister's expression, in contrast, was hard. Cold.

But behind the disdain in her eyes, there was surprise.

"Well," Viessa said after a beat. "Look what the crystal dragged in."

Violet chuckled softly. "Hello to you, too."

"I thought you were dead," Viessa said plainly, leaning back against the pillows behind her.

Her body was covered in bandages beneath a silk robe, and her left arm was strapped tightly across her chest.

She looked like a queen fallen from her throne—still dignified, but undeniably broken.

Violet's smile faded slightly. "You almost sound disappointed."

Viessa snorted. "I'm just surprised you didn't run away like usual. You always were good at disappearing when things got hard."

Violet didn't flinch. "I could say the same. The strongest person in the human empire lay in bed like a torn banner. What happened, sister?"

Viessa's eyes narrowed. "You didn't call just to mock me. So say what you came to say."

"I came to warn you," Violet said quietly but firmly. "And… I came to see if you were alright."

A silence stretched between them, thick and complicated.

Viessa looked away. "You always were the sentimental one."

"I still am," Violet replied. "And no matter how much you hate me for that incident, you're still my sister."

Viessa didn't answer.

Violet let the silence linger for a breath before leaning closer to the crystal. "Viessa… he's in Melanochelys."

Viessa blinked. "…What?"

"Alex. The demon lord."

Viessa scoffed. "Impossible. The guardian beast would never allow it."

"I thought the same," Violet said. "But I saw it with my own eyes. The guardian beast welcomed him. She said she wouldn't be able to defeat him."

Viessa's lips parted—but no sound came out. Her expression faltered for the first time, disbelief flashing across her face.

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

"That monster—our sacred protector—would never lose to anyone. Even the golden dragon doesn't move against her."

Violet's gaze hardened. "But she said it herself. Not only that, Alex defended our borders when the dragons attacked. Eight of them. All ranked legendary. He even defeated three of them in one attack."

Viessa's breath caught. Her hand gripped the edge of her sheets.

"No," she whispered. "You're exaggerating."

"I wish I were," Violet replied solemnly. "I've seen powerful magic before, but nothing like this. I was terrified. He moved through the sky like a storm. Fire, lightning, wind, darkness—he bent the battlefield to his will. He didn't even need help."

Viessa's face paled further. "That... can't be."

"It is," Violet said. "And that's why I'm calling. You already fought him once, and he let you live. He won't give you a second chance."

Viessa looked down at her injured arm, silent.

"You can't win, Viessa," Violet continued softly. "You saw a glimpse of his power and still lost. Please... don't throw your life away."

But Viessa didn't respond.

Her knuckles were white.

"…Do you remember what I said, before we parted?" Violet asked.

Viessa's eyes flicked back up. Her jaw clenched.

"I told you that you were stronger than me. That you always were. But like you lost that day, you will lose again. We're not fighting conquerors. He isn't someone you can hope to defeat."

Viessa remained still for a long moment before replying, her voice hollow. "You're afraid of him."

"Yes," Violet admitted. "But I know him now. And from what I know, he won't harm anyone unless provoked."

Viessa narrowed her eyes. "So, what now? You're one of his people?"

"I'm not one of his people; I'm just a person grateful for what he's done," Violet said, choosing her words carefully. "He's not a tyrant. He's not a monster. I think... I think he's trying to make something better."

Viessa's mouth opened as if to argue—but she didn't.

The truth was there, festering in her chest.

The demon lord could've killed her. Should've.

But he didn't.

"You've changed," she said, her voice quieter now.

"So have you, Viessa," Violet said gently. "Whether you admit it or not."

Another silence passed, this one heavier.

Viessa turned away. "This conversation is over."

Violet's eyes flashed as she tried one last time. "Please, Viessa. Don't do anything reckless—"

Before she could complete her words, the connection cut.

The light of the crystal dimmed to a cold blue spark and died.

............................

In Solaria, Viessa's chamber.

Viessa set the crystal down with trembling fingers.

The room was quiet now, the only sound the low hum of warding spells layered around the walls.

She sat motionless momentarily, lost in thought, until she felt it.

A shift.

Her heart skipped.

It was a mana flux—faint, but familiar.

She turned sharply toward the adjacent chamber, a sudden panic lancing through her.

"No..."

She stood and ran, ignoring the flare of pain in her side.

She pushed the door open with force, eyes darting across the room, and her blood ran cold.

The window was wide open.

Cold air poured in, making the curtains flutter like warning flags. And the bed was empty.

"Eric…?" She whispered, voice strangled.

On the desk, a folded piece of parchment rested neatly beneath a paperweight.

With trembling hands, she picked it up and unfolded it.

["Viessa—

I heard everything about the demon lord. About what he did. About his location."

"I need to kill him myself."

"I'm going to Melanochelys."

"Don't come after me."

—Eric."]

Viessa's hands tightened around the letter, creasing the corners.

"No… no, no, no!" She hissed, slamming a palm against the desk hard enough to crack the wood.

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

Eric—her greatest hope, the boy with latent potential beyond imagination—wasn't ready.

He had power, yes, but power without control was suicide.

He didn't understand the scale of the force he was about to face.

She rushed to the edge of the open window, peering into the night, but there was nothing.

Only darkness, stretching far and deep.

She wanted to rush and find him, but she didn't know which way he went.

The wind carried her voice back to her ears as she whispered, "Please... don't find him yet."

But she knew it was too late.

The ripples had already begun.

She could just hope she reaches Melanochelys before Eric; only then could she save him.

............................

Somewhere near Melanochelys.

Where nothing but winds whispered across the silent ocean, a person sat atop a jagged black cliff that jutted out of the sea like a broken fang.

It was Alex.

His black hair drifted with the breeze, his cloak coiling gently around his frame like a living shadow.

The setting sun dyed the sky in hues of molten gold and blood-orange, casting his silhouette long across the cliffside.

His gaze was fixed upward, not at the horizon, but at the sky beyond, watching clouds slide slowly, silently, as if they too were wary of disturbing him.

It had been a while since he arrived here.

He had dropped Ann, Alice, and Seraphyra back to Melanochelys, hoping for some time alone as he had some plans for today.

He was going to unravel something about his past.

But for that, he needed to be alone, which he wasn't.

With a heavy sigh, he spoke, his voice breaking the stillness—low, calm, and impossibly clear even against the wind and surf.

"...How long do you plan to hide?"

The ocean stirred.

A second later, the water groaned as if exhaling a breath held for centuries.

A vortex unfurled in the depths, swirling outward, and from within, two figures rose to the surface.

They didn't swim; they ascended.

The water obeyed them.

And now, they stood on its surface as if it were solid glass, silent and regal, watching him.

One was a tall man, broad-shouldered, with dark sea-green hair and eyes like polished obsidian. Adorned in layered robes of kelp-thread and coral armor etched with runes that shimmered faintly, he radiated power and authority.

He seemed like a king or maybe the emperor of the depths.

Beside him stood a woman, serene and composed.

Her form was elegant, her pale blue hair trailed behind her like liquid silk. Where the man bristled with indignation, she emanated an ancient, quiet strength.

A queen or empress not of dominion, but of understanding.

Both bore the marks of their kind—their ears shaped like delicate fish fins, translucent and faintly iridescent.

But far from grotesque, the feature gave them otherworldly beauty that made the air itself feel heavy with awe.

The man's voice cut across the waves.

"Who are you?" He demanded. "Why did our guardian meet you yesterday? What did they say to you?"

He took a step forward, water rippling beneath him. "And—how did they look? What was their form?"

Alex tilted his head slightly, understanding flashing past his eyes.

They knew of Neris—the ancient sea guardian—but they had never seen her.

They had never heard her voice.

They were somehow able to track her trails, but they hadn't seen her.

They probably only knew of her myths.

He leaned back on one hand, still seated on the cliff, his other hand drawing a stone slowly across the rocky surface with a soft, deliberate scrape.

"I don't answer to people who hide behind questions they're afraid to find answers to," Alex said coolly.

The man's brow twitched.

"You mock us?"

"I don't mock you," Alex replied. "I just don't think the truth is hidden without a reason."

Silence.

The sea king's jaw clenched.

"Watch your words, land-dweller. You speak to the ruling blood of Aqualon. We command the depths. You stand alone on rock and foam, and yet you dare—"

"You command fish and drown in ignorance," Alex interrupted, voice still calm, but now cold. "You've never met your guardian. You've never seen the. And now you beg for scraps of knowledge from someone you assume is weaker."

The air stilled.

The queen's eyes narrowed subtly, but she raised a graceful hand before her consort could speak again.

"That's enough, Kaeryn," she said softly.

"But—"

"Enough," she said again, eyes locked on Alex. "He's not lying. And you're letting pride cloud your senses."

Kaeryn's hands curled into fists, but he obeyed.

The woman stepped forward, her voice as gentle as rippling waves.

"You have seen them," she said, not a question. "You carry their scent… faint, but unmistakable. They chose to speak with you, didn't they?"

Alex didn't respond.

He only held her gaze.

After a long moment, the woman smiled faintly, though the expression never reached her eyes.

"You're dangerous," she murmured. "Far more than we thought. But we will not force words from you today."

She turned, reaching out to Kaeryn.

"Return," she said simply.

And just like that, the two of them sank without a splash, their forms swallowed by the sea.

The ocean stilled again.

When they were gone, Alex exhaled through his nose, shaking his head.

"They'll be back," he muttered. "Next time, with people who think dying will earn them glory."

He stood slowly, dusting his hands on his cloak.

"But that's fine."

His gaze returned to the sky.

"It had been a while since I farmed Exp anyway."