The night had ended, and Rio, weary and battered from his clash with Nadia, trudged toward his room. His body still burned from the heat of Nadia's fire, and his heart ached from her sharp, venomous words. The cold palace corridors, lit only by torches casting faint light on the stone walls, felt darker than ever. Each step Rio took was like wading through a swamp of despair. But halfway down the hall, a soft sound stopped him—a hushed conversation between William and Maria, drifting from William's study.
Rio paused. Curiosity sparked within him, and he cautiously approached the door. Hiding in the wall's shadow, he listened. Maria's voice, laced with worry and urgency, cut through the night's silence like an alarm:
"Are you sure this is right, William? He's still a child! It's better if he stays here. Why do you want to take him?"
William, his voice a mix of resolve and exhaustion, replied:
"Now that I've accepted their offer, not taking Rio would raise more suspicion than anything else. They'll figure him out eventually, Maria. We can't hide him any longer—it's impossible."
Maria, her voice trembling with fear, snapped back:
"William, don't you understand? Our son is only six years old, but he's like a seventy-year-old dragon! How are you going to explain that to the other dragons? We still don't know why he's growing so fast, so unnaturally!"
Rio froze behind the door. His heart pounded, his breath caught in his chest. Maria's words stabbed into his mind like daggers. William fell silent for a moment, and Rio heard his heavy footsteps moving toward the desk, as if the weight of this decision was crushing him.
Unable to bear it any longer, Rio pushed the door open with a trembling hand and stepped inside. The candlelight on the desk illuminated Maria's worried face and William's deep, piercing gaze. His appearance struck them like lightning. Maria caught her breath, and William raised his brows. Maria quickly composed herself and said in a kind but shaky voice:
"My son, what are you doing here?"
Rio swallowed hard, anxiety surging within him like a wave. With a voice he tried to keep steady, he said:
"Father, Mother, I'm not sure what you're discussing, but… I have an idea."
William sighed and approached him. Kneeling on one knee, he placed his strong hands on Rio's slender shoulders and said with a determined yet loving look:
"My son, you don't need to worry about these things. It's your mother's and my duty to decide your future…"
Rio cut him off. With a voice trembling with sudden resolve, he said:
"Father, please, just listen to what I have to say for a moment!"
William paused, caught off guard by Rio's serious and determined tone. He glanced at Maria, who now clutched her chest as if to calm her racing heart. Then he looked back at Rio and said softly:
"Alright, my son. I'm listening."
Rio took a deep breath, gathering all his courage into that single breath. His silver eyes, now filled with resolve and pain, locked onto William and Maria. With a voice that came from the depths of his heart, he said:
"Father, I've been thinking about this for a while. I've thought about all the trouble I've caused our family."
Maria, her face pale, quickly interjected: "My son, that's not true!"
Rio looked at his mother, his eyes brimming with tears he refused to let fall.
"But it is true, Mother. Because of me, you, my sisters, even the tribe—we're all under pressure. I can't do anything about it because I'm still too young. But there's a way I can at least reduce some of the problems I've caused…"
He paused, his breath shaking. "And that's by no longer being your son."
Maria staggered as if struck. Her face drained of color, she rushed toward Rio and cried out in a voice breaking with fear and pain:
"What are you saying, Rio?"
William, silent until now, slowly rose. He took a few steps back, his face cold and expressionless, but his red eyes burned with a silent storm. In a voice that seemed to rise from the depths of his being, he said:
"You want me to tell the others you're not my son?"
Rio nodded, tears welling in his eyes, but his voice remained firm.
"Yes, Father. You just have to tell them I'm your adopted son."
William hesitated, his gaze fixed on Rio from above, as if weighing the gravity of those words.
"No one would ever believe it. Especially with how much you resemble your uncle—everyone would immediately realize…"
Suddenly, William stopped. His eyes widened, as if a revelation had struck him like lightning. In a soft but astonished voice, he said:
"You mean to say…"
Rio nodded again, tears now streaming down his cheeks, but his resolve unbroken.
"Yes, Father. You've always said I look so much like Uncle Rio. If you tell the rest of the world I'm Rio Asteroid's son, they'll believe it. Then you can explain away any questions about me—my age, my appearance, everything."
The room fell into silence. Maria pressed her hand to her mouth, tears pooling in her eyes, her heart seemingly shattering. William stared at Rio, his eyes filled with a pain he couldn't voice. In that moment, Rio was not just a six-year-old boy but a man carrying the weight of his family on his small shoulders. And that truth was more painful for William and Maria than anything they had ever experienced.
Maria's anger flared like a sudden flame in the study. With a scream that shook the stone walls, she turned to William:
"Why aren't you saying anything, William? Are you actually considering this?"
William, still reeling from Rio's offer, glanced at his wife and then at Rio. His red eyes swirled with a storm he couldn't express. He ran a hand over his face, as if trying to sort his chaotic thoughts. In a trembling, broken voice that seemed to come from his core, he said:
"I… I don't know."
Maria leapt to her feet at those words, her eyes filled with disbelief and rage.
"I can't believe you're even thinking about it, William! How could you even consider such a thing? You want to tell the world Rio isn't our son but my brother's?"
Rio, his heart aching from the pain of the moment, quickly grabbed Maria's clothes. In a sorrowful voice that came from the depths of his heart, he said:
"Mother, you know I'm your son. That's enough! If this can keep others' suspicions away from us, we have to do it."
Maria stared at Rio, her eyes filled with maternal love and pain. She hesitated for a moment, then closed her eyes, as if trying to erase this nightmare from her mind. Her inner turmoil raged like a storm. Without looking at William or Rio, she lowered her head and said in a faint voice, heavy with despair:
"My brother was a famous dragon. Even if we tried this, they'd see through the lie."
William shook his head, his face now cold and numb, but his eyes still filled with doubt.
"Rio was a famous dragon, but no one knew much about him. Even we didn't know what he did when he left the tribe."
Maria, her voice trembling with anger and fear, said: "William? Are you really going to do this?"
William fell silent for a moment, as if the weight of this decision was crushing him. Then he approached Rio, ran his hand through his white hair with a gentle caress, and said in a voice still tinged with pain:
"Thank you, my son. I know you're trying to help us, and I'm grateful for that. But that's enough. Go back to your room and leave me alone with your mother."
Rio looked into his father's eyes, his gaze determined and resolute but hiding deep pain. He nodded silently and left the room. His heart was heavy, as if weighed down by tears and despair. Unable to speak to his mother again, he lowered his head and walked through the dark palace corridors toward his room. The wall torches cast faint light on his pale face, and his shadow followed him like a ghost.
Halfway there, he saw Elian. His black armor gleamed in the torchlight, and his fiery red eyes gazed at Rio with kindness. Elian said softly: "Master Rio?"
With respectful steps, he escorted Rio to his room. When Rio opened his door, Elian asked: "Are you alright?"
Rio nodded faintly, his voice tired and strained.
"I'm fine."
Elian nodded with satisfaction and vanished into the dark corridor, like a shadow belonging to the night. Rio entered his room, closed the door, and stared into the darkness, as if he wanted to lose himself in it.
The next morning, the palace's entrance hall was steeped in stifling tension. Gray light streamed through the tall windows, and the cold air carried the scent of snow and burnt wood. William stood in the center of the hall, his presence like a pillar of stone and fire. Maria sat behind him, her face sorrowful and pale, as if a sleepless night filled with tears had broken her. Adrina and Nadia stood side by side, and Rio, his heart trembling with anxiety, stood a little apart from them.
William gazed at his children for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. Then, in a low, calm voice that hid a storm, he said:
"Tomorrow, we head to the land of the elfs. Though it's not far from their capital, we'll use the tribe's passage gate. And we're taking Rio with us."
The air in the hall seemed to freeze. Nadia and Adrina stared at William like shocked statues. Nadia, her red eyes sparking with anger, shouted:
"Father, what are you saying? Didn't I tell you he's not ready? He can't even control his power! The other dragons might find out he's an ice dragon!"
Adrina, usually calm and composed, spoke with a cold, expressionless face but a voice full of concern:
"Father, I agree with Nadia. Rio isn't ready to leave the tribe—not for a place where other dragons will be."
William sighed, as if the weight of this decision was bending his shoulders. In a quiet but firm voice, he said:
"I understand your concerns. But we can't hide Rio anymore. I want to protect him, but keeping him hidden has only made things worse. If he's to have a normal life, he needs to see the world."
Nadia, her anger now blazing like fire within her, shouted: "Father, why don't you understand? He's weak! He'll be a weak point for us!"
William ran a hand over his face, as if trying to rein in his own anger. In a heavier voice, he said:
"I understand. And that's exactly why we need to take Rio. He needs to know what he's up against."
Rio, his heart pounding like a drum from the argument, could no longer stay silent. In a trembling voice filled with fear and guilt, he said:
"Father, my sisters are right. There's no reason for me to go. I'll only cause trouble for you."
Nadia glanced at Rio, and for a moment, the anger in her eyes gave way to something else—perhaps pain, perhaps disappointment. But she turned back to William and said in a voice shaking with rage:
"You'll get us all killed, Father."
Maria, silent until now, suddenly leapt to her feet. Anger and pain surged across her face, and with a scream that shook the hall, she turned to Nadia:
"Enough, Nadia! Don't talk to your father like that!"
But Nadia, tears now pooling in her eyes, clenched her fists. Adrina tried to take her hand, saying softly: "Stop, Nadia."
But Nadia yanked her hand away and, in a trembling voice that seemed to rise from deep fear, shouted: "What if you lose us because of him, Father? What if you lose us like you lost Uncle Rio?"
The air in the hall seemed to stop. Uncle Rio's name struck like lightning, and a deathly silence swallowed everything. William paused, his red eyes now burning like twin pits of fire. In a low voice, he said:
"We leave tomorrow. This discussion is over."
His words echoed like thunder in the hall, and the tense atmosphere grew even more ominous. Maria pressed her hand to her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. Adrina held Nadia tightly, as if shielding her from the storm. Nadia, her body trembling with anger and fear, sought refuge in her sister's embrace. And Rio, standing in the corner of the hall, felt his heart shatter in his chest. He was not only the cause of this argument but seemingly the source of all his family's pain. And that truth was heavier than anything he could bear.
Nadia, her eyes swirling with grief and anger, left the hall without a word. Her footsteps echoed in the cold, dark palace corridors, like a bell tolling the end of a storm. But the silence left in the hall was heavier than any scream, as if even the stone walls held their breath from the tension of that moment.
That night, as the family gathered around the dinner table, the atmosphere was like a frozen graveyard. The candlelight danced on the table, but its warmth couldn't melt the coldness between their hearts. The clink of spoons against silver dishes was the only music in this deadly silence. Rio, his heart still trembling from the morning's fight, occasionally glanced at his family. Adrina ate with her usual grace, like a jade statue, but her thoughts seemed elsewhere. Setia, with her playful eyes and a smile that always hid something, tried to make Rio laugh with small gestures—waving her spoon or making funny faces. But even these efforts couldn't erase the shadow of sorrow from his face. Maria stared at her food, her eyes locked with unshed tears, her fingers trembling around her spoon. William, lost in thoughts that seemed to carry him to another world, ate mechanically, his spoon moving like a soulless machine.
Rio, with questions about tomorrow gnawing at his mind like thorns, finally mustered the courage to break the silence. In a trembling voice that rose from the depths of his anxiety, he said:
"Father, what should I do tomorrow?"
William paused, as if Rio's question had pulled him from the depths of his thoughts. His red eyes fixed on him for a moment, then he clasped his fingers together and said in a calm but weighty voice:
"You don't need to do anything, my son. Just as I said, don't use your power. As long as you control yourself, nothing will happen."
Rio nodded in acknowledgment, but his gaze fell to his plate, where the soup had gone cold, no steam rising from it anymore. Silence descended again, thick as fog. But Adrina, who had been as quiet as a shadow until then, gently set her spoon down with a soft clink and said:
"Father, now that you're taking Rio with us, what should we tell Kato? I'm sure he'll be there."
Kato's name pierced Rio's heart like an arrow. William thought for a moment, his spoon hovering in the air, as if weighing his words. In a low but confident voice, he said:
"There's no need to be afraid. Kato will surely have many thoughts about Rio, but he'll never figure out what he needs to. As long as Rio keeps his power hidden, there won't be a problem."
Kato. The name had echoed in Rio's ears countless times over the past months, like a distant warning bell. He didn't know who Kato was—just that his family grew cautious and anxious at the mention of his name. A dragon, perhaps the leader of another tribe, someone who cast a threatening shadow over their lives. The thought made Rio's heart race, and anxiety coiled around him like a cold snake.
Hours later, after a long and exhausting dinner, Rio returned to his room. The sky that night was clear, and the full moon's light streamed through the large window, painting the walls with a silver glow. The stars sparkled like jewels, and Rio decided to calm his troubled mind by picking up a pen and paper to sketch the galaxies—an interest that had always been his anchor in storms. But his hand trembled. The lines on the paper became meaningless scribbles, as if his mind was trapped in a cage of anxiety. This time, it wasn't fear consuming him but a deep unease—unease about entering a new world, facing elfs, other dragons, and perhaps even Kato. For an introverted Rio, whose social skills were as dull as a blunt sword, this was like stepping into a battlefield without armor. He constantly feared that a single mistake could endanger not just himself but his family.
Lost in his thoughts, he suddenly saw Setia through the window. In the courtyard, under the moonlight, she stood half-naked in the biting winter cold. Her hair danced in the icy wind, and her movements were strange and mesmerizing—slow, precise punches, like a dance synchronized with the spirits of the night. Each motion was like a wave of silent power, as if the ground beneath her breathed with her. Rio didn't understand what this training was, but seeing Setia in that cold, her pale skin glowing like ice under the moonlight, squeezed his heart. Worried, he leapt up, grabbed a large blanket from beside the main hall's fireplace, and ran to the courtyard. Snow crunched under his feet, and his breaths turned to vapor in the freezing air.
Setia, seeing Rio, took a deep breath and stopped her movements. She waited until he approached, and when Rio reached her, she said with a kind smile and a voice that seemed to rise from the depths of the night:
"What are you doing here, little brother?"
Rio held up the blanket, his voice full of concern. "Come on, sister. You'll get sick. You shouldn't be training like this in this cold."
Setia stared at the blanket, her eyes sparkling with surprise. Then, with a soft smile that held unexpected warmth, she ruffled Rio's hair and said:
"Thanks, little brother."
She took the blanket and draped it over her shoulders, but her gaze lingered on Rio, as if searching for something deeper. "Why are you still up this late?"
Rio hesitated, anxiety surging within him again.
"I was thinking about tomorrow. I'm not sure what I should do. Nadia's right… I'm weak and not suited for this trip."
Setia fell silent for a moment, then knelt on one knee and placed her hands on Rio's shoulders. Her eyes, usually playful, now held an unexpected depth, as if guarding an ancient secret. In a warm, confident voice, she said:
"Let me tell you a secret, little brother. I remember the days when Adrina and Nadia were training. They, too, did their best to get stronger—but every time they fell, the pain was so great they couldn't get up. But you… you got up. I've seen your training, Rio. I saw you stand up and keep going, even when you were in pain, even when you thought you weren't enough. A true warrior is someone who always gets back up."
Setia's words pierced Rio's heart like light in the darkness. For the first time that day, he felt warmth within him, as if a small hope, like a flower blooming in snow, had sprouted in his heart. Setia stood, her shadow falling over Rio under the moonlight, tall and majestic. With her usual smile but a voice full of certainty, she said:
"Be proud of yourself. You are strong."
Rio couldn't hold back. He hugged Setia with all his might and whispered softly: "Thank you, Setia."
Setia ruffled his hair again and laughed softly. "Alright, it's time for you to go to bed. You have to leave tomorrow."
Rio nodded and headed back to the palace. He waited for Setia to follow, but she remained in the courtyard, standing under the moonlight, waving at him. Despite the love he felt for his sister, Rio still saw the shadow of that terrifying expression in his mind—Setia's smile that seemed to hide something sinister. Not wanting to pressure her, he lowered his head and returned to his room. His footsteps on the stone floor made soft sounds, and his heart, despite the warmth of Setia's words, still trembled with anxiety about tomorrow.
But in the courtyard, Setia stood still, like a statue of ice and rage under the moonlight. Her smile, kind and playful moments ago, had transformed into something else—a mask hiding a deep darkness. Her eyes, which had sparkled like jewels under the moonlight, now burned with a rage so vast it could split the heavens. Setia moved her right hand behind her back and clenched her fist so tightly that her nails dug into her skin. Drops of blood fell like red flowers onto the white snow, glinting in the moonlight. Then the silence of the night was shattered by the sound of breaking bone—Setia, with a sudden and terrifying motion, crushed her index finger in her fist, snapping the bone like a dry twig. But her smile didn't falter for a moment. Instead, it grew deeper, more horrifying, and inhuman, as if the monster chained within her had briefly broken free. Blood dripped from her hand onto the snow, and warm vapor rose from it, like a soul escaping her body. Her eyes fixed on the sky, and in that moment, she was no longer Setia but an ancient, wrathful being standing under the moonlight, ready to devour anything in its path. A deadly secret pulsed in her heart, and her smile was like a gateway to hell, promising a darkness from which no one could escape.
The next morning, as the sun rose slowly behind the snow-covered mountains, the tribe was bathed in cold, golden light. Rio, still carrying the anxiety of the previous night like a shadow, woke with a start. His heart raced, but a quiet resolve burned in his silver eyes. He leapt from bed, washed his face with cold water, and combed his tangled white hair. He carefully chose his all-white outfit—fitted pants and shirt, and a leather coat that sat like light armor on his shoulders. For extra caution, he wore white gloves to ensure even his hands remained unseen. He didn't want any trace of his freezing power to be noticed. Standing before the mirror, he studied his reflection—a small boy with white hair and eyes that seemed forged from stars. He took a deep breath and whispered in a voice he tried to keep steady:
"Be strong. Don't be afraid. Everything will be fine. Just do what Father said."
He stared at himself for a moment, as if etching those words into his being. Then, with determined steps, he left his room and passed through the cold, silent palace corridors. The wall torches still burned, their faint light casting long shadows of him on the walls. When he reached the palace courtyard, he saw Elian standing alone, his black, gleaming armor shining in the morning light, his metal helmet hiding his face.
Rio approached with a faint smile and said: "Good morning, Elian. I'm ready to go."
Elian paused, his fiery red eyes studying Rio from beneath his helmet. Rio's all-white appearance—like a spirit born from winter—was strange and captivating to him. In a tone blending surprise and respect, he said:
"Good morning, Master Rio. You seem fully prepared!"
Rio nodded eagerly and stood beside Elian. The cold morning breeze made his white hair dance, and in his white coat, gleaming in the sunlight, he seemed part of the surrounding snow. They chatted for a while—about the weather, the journey, and small things—but Rio's mind was elsewhere, anticipating the moment he would see a new world.
Suddenly, the palace doors opened, and William, Adrina, and Nadia stepped out. William wore a red coat with black streaks, his presence like a pillar of fire and stone. Adrina and Nadia wore red leather outfits that glowed like living flames in the morning light. Seeing Rio, William nodded in approval, his red eyes softening for a moment. Behind them, Maria and Setia emerged from the palace and stood by the door, like two guardians unwilling to let anything tear their hearts apart.
Rio ran to his mother, hugging her tightly and saying with deep emotion: "Mother, take care of yourself until we return."
Maria stroked Rio's hair, a sad smile on her lips. "You too, my son. Take care of yourself."
Rio then looked at Setia. Her wrist and fingers were wrapped in white bandages, and the sight squeezed his heart. Worried, he asked: "Sister, what happened?"
Setia, with her usual playful smirk and childish pride that seemed to hide something, said:
"It's nothing, little brother. Just as you're getting stronger, so am I."
Then she placed her hands on Rio's shoulders, her eyes deepening for a moment. "Go and see the outside world well."
Still worried, Rio said softly: "Take care of yourself, sister."
He returned to William, took his father's hand, and glanced at Maria and Setia, who now stood in the doorway like a portrait of grief and hope. The small group headed toward the tribe's passage gate. Along the way, Rio looked at the tribe's stone houses, covered in snow, with smoke rising from their chimneys. A strange feeling filled him—not nostalgia, not excitement, but something deeper, like a farewell to something he didn't yet understand. He squeezed William's hand a little tighter and glanced at his father and sisters. Adrina walked behind him with a calm smile, like a breeze soothing a storm. Nadia, beside William, strode with an angry face and clenched fists, as if ready to fight the entire world.
Some time later, they reached the passage gate—a massive, circular stone structure embedded in the ground. Intricate, unintelligible words, like ancient secrets, were carved into its surface. It was the first time in his six years of life that Rio had seen this gate, and its grandeur took his breath away. Elian approached the gate and touched the star-like points at its edges, as if reading a map of the heavens. Suddenly, the ground trembled, and the Words carved in stone began to glow. A clear blue light, like a living sea, formed at the gate's center. Beyond it, nothing could be seen—just darkness and the promise of the unknown.
Elian signaled to William that the gate was active. William released Rio's hand and said in a calm but firm voice:
"My son, to pass through, everyone must enter alone."
Rio didn't understand why, but he nodded. William stepped into the gate with dignified strides, like a king entering a battlefield. Elian followed, and Nadia, with a venomous glance at Rio, stormed through like a red tempest. Rio hesitated, his heart trembling with anxiety. Adrina approached, knelt on one knee, and said with a smile as warm as sunlight:
"No need to be afraid, silver bunny. As I've always said, as long as I'm with you, you don't need to worry about anything. Just take a deep breath and step in. It's like walking on snow—pleasant and beautiful."
Adrina stood and glided into the gate, her fiery red hair gleaming in its blue light. Rio was left alone, facing a gate that felt like a portal to his destiny. His heartbeat filled his ears. He reached toward the gate's glass-like surface, and when his fingers touched it, it felt like water—light, cool, and alive. He pulled his hand back, lost in thought for a moment. Then he shoved his hands into his coat pockets, forced a proud smile onto his face, and whispered to himself:
"You can do this, Rio."
With steps he tried to keep steady, he stepped into the gate. The blue light swallowed him, and for a moment, he felt as if he were floating among the stars.
Earlier
William emerged from the elfs' gate with steps that seemed to shake the ground. A vast forest, with trees stretching like pillars to the sky and clouds, surrounded him. Green and golden leaves danced in the morning breeze. The elfs' stone gate, grander than the tribe's, stood in the forest's heart, adorned with delicate, magical carvings. Elf soldiers, in silver armor with long, braided hair, stood in formation around the gate. Seeing William, they all bowed respectfully, their spears glinting in the morning light.
William, his red-and-black coat like a smoldering flame on his shoulders, stepped forward with dignity. Suddenly, a tall man with blond hair and eyes the color of night appeared before him. It was Kato—his rugged face, thick beard, and a deep scar on his neck seemed to shout tales of countless battles. Beside him stood a boy in black, with long hair and cold, brown eyes, his gaze as sharp as an unsheathed blade.
Kato, seeing William, held his breath. His eyes narrowed for a moment, as if searching for a secret. Then he extended his hand and said in a deep, rough, but soft voice:
"William."
William reached out, their handshake firm and tense, like two warriors unsure if they were friends or foes.
"Kato."
Kato, in the same emotionless tone, said: "It's been a while."
William replied: "Yes, a long while."
His gaze fell on the boy beside Kato—a tall teenager with a face carved from stone. "I see you've grown quite a bit, Ayhan."
Ayhan gave a stiff bow and said in a rough voice eerily similar to his father's: "I'm pleased to see you again, Lord William."
At that moment, Elian, Adrina, and Nadia emerged one by one from the gate and stood behind William. Ayhan's eyes lingered on Nadia for a moment—a strange, fleeting, unreadable look, like a spark flickering in the dark. Nadia didn't notice, but there was something in that glance, something emotional and whispered.
Kato, seeing the Kalimor family, said softly: "Very well, I think it's time to move. I'm sure the elf emperor is waiting ahead."
One of the elf soldiers moved to deactivate the gate, but Adrina quickly raised her hand and said in a calm but firm voice:
"Please wait. My brother hasn't crossed yet."
At those words, Kato and Ayhan's expressions changed instantly. Kato, who had been as still as a rock, raised his brows, and his black eyes flashed—not with anger, but with a shock that seemed to shake his core. Ayhan, usually emotionless, took an instinctive step forward, his brown eyes narrowing as if he'd seen something impossible. The forest's silence grew heavier, and even the elf soldiers held their breath.
Suddenly, the gate's blue light flared, and white boots stepped out. Slowly, like a spirit born from winter, a white-clad boy with white hair and silver eyes appeared before the gate. His leather coat danced in the forest breeze, and his hands, tucked in his pockets, were calm with unexpected confidence. A proud but fragile smile played on his lips, as if he were trying to convince the world he wasn't afraid. It was Rio—a vision of ice and light, majestic and mysterious, as if he'd stepped from an ancient legend into reality.
Kato was so stunned that he didn't even notice when Rio stood beside William. His eyes widened, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe. Ayhan, usually cold and indifferent, instinctively reached for his sword, as if his instincts warned him of danger. The elf soldiers froze, silent whispers passing between them. Rio's presence was like a lightning bolt that shook the forest—not because of power, but because no one had expected him.
Rio, with calm but majestic steps, stood beside William, facing Ayhan. Their contrast was like day and night—Rio, white-clad and radiant like a winter spirit, and Ayhan, black-clad and dark like a shadow of night. The forest's silence seemed to breathe, and the cold breeze whispered a threatening murmur between them.
William, his face cold and emotionless, placed his hands on Rio's shoulders. His gaze locked onto Kato, and in a voice that seemed to rise from the earth's depths, he said: "Allow me to introduce my son, Rio."
His words thundered through the forest, and Kato's eyes filled with something—perhaps curiosity, perhaps fear, or perhaps something darker. Rio, with that same proud smile, stared at Kato and Ayhan, but his heart pounded in his chest. He had entered a world he didn't understand, and now, under the heavy gazes of Kato and Ayhan, he felt that this was only the beginning of a greater storm.