Today marked a turning point.
They had entered the Holy Continent — the last surviving land of gods.
The Land of Varis.
The grand hall was alive with celebration. Nobles laughed, drank, and danced as the King spoke of greatness, destiny, and the rise of the "I-Realm."
To them, it was glory.
To Samuel—
It was noise.
He stood at the edge of the hall, silent, observing everything. Every smile, every gesture, every hidden intention.
Nothing escaped his eyes.
Then—
The atmosphere shifted.
A woman entered.
Elegant. Composed. Untouchable.
Whispers followed her presence.
"Lady Sterra…"
"She owns half of Valdris…"
"A saint among nobles…"
Samuel's gaze locked onto her.
Not admiration.
Not curiosity.
Something deeper.
Her violet hair shimmered under the golden lights. Her emerald eyes were calm—too calm.
Around her neck rested a strange necklace.
Ancient.
Encrypted.
If one could read it—
Fortune Favours the Brave.
Samuel narrowed his eyes slightly.
"…interesting."
He stepped forward.