[Location: The Estate of House Valentine]
The air within the Valentine estate felt incredibly heavy today, carrying an uncanny, suffocating silence.
For the first time in years, an official missive had arrived from the Zenith Peaks. The Patriarch of House Invictus had called for an immediate, high-level gathering. He was summoning the Head and the Heir of House Valentine, alongside the Holy Pope of the Central Empire, for a matter of absolute urgency.
The grand hall of the Valentine estate fell completely quiet. One second passed. Then two.
Finally, Cassius Valentine broke the silence, his golden eyes narrowing with battle-hardened focus.
"We leave immediately," his father ordered, his deep voice echoing off the stone walls. "Ares, get ready. Wear your formal attire. We are departing for the Invictus estate now."
"Huh?" Ares blinked, genuine confusion slipping through his usually cold, calculating exterior.
What the hell is going on? Ares thought frantically, his modern mind racing to compare this moment to his memories.
In his previous life, nothing like this had ever occurred. House Invictus had never called a sudden gathering. At this exact time in his past life, he had simply been out in the courtyard, obsessively practicing his sword arts and trying to push his Divine Pathway toward Ascendant Step 3. The timeline hadn't just shifted slightly; it had completely fractured. The future was changing to a terrifying degree.
The Four Great Houses practically operated as independent kingdoms. They only ever contacted each other officially when a catastrophic threat jeopardized the entire Caelian Empire. And to summon the Holy Pope as well? It meant something truly dangerous had stepped out of the shadows.
Unlike the noble families, the Holy Church of the Caelian Empire did not worship the concepts of the Seven Divine Pathways. To the Church, the pathways were merely shattered pieces of a greater whole. They believed that all magic, all Aethel, and every word of the Lingua Caelestium was originally created by a single, supreme deity.
They did not pray to the gods of Blood, Light, or Storms. They prayed only to that one, absolute creator—a primordial being they simply called: The Unknown.
If the Pope was being dragged out of the Central Empire to meet with the Vanguard and the Sovereigns, whatever Tiberius Invictus had found was enough to shake the very foundations of their world.
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Ares quickly changed into his formal attire. Foregoing his usual heavy combat gear, he dressed in pristine, flowing white ceremonial robes tailored for a high noble. His golden-yellow hair fell naturally around his face, while his glowing yellow eyes practically hummed with unanswered questions about the fractured timeline.
He followed his father deep into the estate, arriving at the Valentine family's teleportation chamber.
At the center of the grand room stood a massive, circular platform constructed entirely from raw Aethel Crystals. The crystalline surface was deeply engraved with complex, geometric Lingua Caelestium runes.
In this world, Aethel existed in two distinct forms. The first was internal—the spiritual energy contained within a living person's Vessel. The second was physical—solidified Aethel crystals that could be mined and used to power large-scale magical architecture. But no matter the source of the energy, every single power in the world, from a simple spark to city-wide teleportation, could only be commanded through the ancient geometric language of the gods.
However, one could not simply teleport into the domain of another Great House—especially not House Invictus, whose mastery over the Path of Jovis gave them absolute control over space and gravity. A sudden, unauthorized breach into their territory would instantly crush the traveler into paste.
Standing before the crystalline platform, Cassius first channeled his internal Aethel into a smaller communication rune. He formally requested spatial clearance, waiting in silence until the Zenith Peaks transmitted an authoritative pulse of energy back, signaling that the borders were open for them.
With permission granted, both father and son stepped onto the center of the crystal array.
Cassius spoke the ancient Lingua Caelestium incantation for spatial displacement. Instantly, the carved geometric lines beneath their feet flared with a blinding, intense light. The heavy hum of concentrated Aethel filled the room, the space around them warped, and in the blink of an eye, both Ares and Cassius vanished into thin air.
Within seconds of the teleportation rune's activation, the blinding light faded, replacing the dark, iron-wrought walls of the Valentine estate with the gleaming white marble of Caelus City.
The moment they materialized, a phalanx of fully armored Stormguard soldiers dropped to one knee in perfect, synchronized respect. Waiting for them at the grand entrance was Valerius Invictus. The Supreme Commander gave Cassius a solemn, respectful nod before turning to lead them deep into the heart of the palace.
Valerius guided them into a massive, cavernous gathering hall. In the center of the room stretched a long, imposing table carved from a single slab of polished obsidian.
Standing at the head of the table was Tiberius Invictus, the absolute ruler of House Invictus. He was a terrifying warlord whose raw power was said to be eclipsed only by his monstrous son, Julian. Yet, as Cassius and Ares approached, the heavy, oppressive aura in the room vanished. Tiberius stepped forward with a genuine smile, pulling Cassius—the Head of House Valentine and his son-in-law—into a firm, brotherly embrace.
Following the strict traditions of the Empire, Ares immediately lowered himself to one knee to bow before the Patriarch of the strongest House.
"Ares, my boy, none of that," Tiberius said casually, waving a scarred hand. "Don't bow to me; you'll make me feel old, and I might just pull a muscle."
"It is tradition, Grandfather," Ares replied, his voice calm and respectful.
"Enough with the formalities. You and Julian are practically the same age," Tiberius chuckled, his lone purple eye softening with familial warmth. "Come here and hug your grandfather."
Ares stood and accepted the embrace. Once the greetings were finished, Tiberius gestured for them to take their places at the table.
Ares and Cassius moved to their designated chairs. The heavy stone seats were deeply carved with glowing geometric runes that formed the image of two massive, crossed greatswords—the undisputed crest of House Valentine. The other chairs along the sides of the table remained conspicuously empty, as the remaining Great Houses had not been invited to this exclusive gathering.
Directly opposite Tiberius sat one final, occupied chair. Its backrest bore the radiant, runic symbol of two spread wings—the crest of the Holy Church.
These seats were not merely carved by hand; they were governed by an adaptive, spatial Lingua Caelestium. The runes physically recognized the Aethel signature of the guest. If the Emperor himself were to step into the castle, the runes on that final seat would instantly and fluidly shift to form the Imperial crest. It was a subtle but brilliant display of Invictus magic, proving that reality itself shifted to accommodate whoever sat at their table.
Cassius turned his golden eyes toward the head of the table. "When exactly is this gathering meant to begin, Tiberius?"
"Oh, it begins now," Tiberius replied, a knowing glint in his solitary eye. "Look. His Holiness has arrived."
Ares and Cassius shifted their attention to the far end of the obsidian table. The runic chair marked with the two wings began to emit a blinding, piercing glow. A sudden string of pure, absolute light descended from the high ceiling, striking the floor with a soft, harmonic hum.
When the pillar of light faded, a figure draped in a pristine, glowing white hood materialized perfectly in front of the seat.
The moment the Pope appeared, everyone in the chamber—Tiberius, Cassius, and Ares—stood up in perfect unison. Following the strict traditions of the Empire's religion, they pressed their right hands firmly over their hearts and spoke in synchronization.
"For the Unknown."
"For the Unknown," the Pope replied.
His voice was completely surreal. It didn't sound like it was coming from his physical mouth; instead, the words resonated everywhere, anywhere, and nowhere at all, echoing directly within the very atmosphere of the room.
"Please, have a seat," the Pope gestured gracefully.
As the massive stone chairs scraped against the floor and the leaders sat down, the Pope tilted his hooded head toward Tiberius.
"Though, Patriarch of Invictus," the Pope said, his omnipresent voice carrying a faint, mysterious edge. "Isn't it a bit rude not to invite your son, Julian, to such an important discussion?"