The silence in Elsa's private office was absolute, but her mind stormed.
Valemir's skyline flickered through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind her. Distant sirens. Flickers of traffic. Business as usual on the surface. But beneath it—underneath all the gloss and glass—Jefferson Global was bleeding from internal cuts.
And Nyra had made her move.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.
"Come in," she said without looking up.
Chess stepped inside, his silhouette casting a long shadow across her desk. He didn't speak immediately. Just walked over and placed a warm flask of ginger-lemon tea in front of her.
"You always do that when you're thinking too hard," he murmured.
She arched a brow. "Do what?"
"Press your pen so hard it almost snaps."
Elsa glanced down. Her favorite gold pen was indeed on the verge of cracking in her grip.
"Noted," she said, lips twitching.
He pulled a chair closer, sitting opposite her. "I got your message. Nyra?"
Elsa nodded slowly. "She's not just playing both sides—she might be orchestrating them."
Chess leaned back. "She working with Kip?"
"She was," Elsa confirmed. "But I think she's shifted her allegiance again. Possibly Kavarian elements… someone even higher."
"Then Kip's just a placeholder," Chess muttered.
Elsa reached into her drawer and pulled out a tablet, sliding it toward him. "This is what she was trying to hide. That 'export subsidy' from three quarters ago? It links directly to Miranth Holdings."
Chess's eyes narrowed. "That's the front for the Order of the Shaded Flame."
Elsa gave a sharp nod. "Which means whatever the seals represent… they're not just relics."
"They're keys," Chess said quietly. "To something older. Possibly locked… or buried."
The room was quiet for a moment as the weight of it settled between them.
Then Elsa whispered, "How do we fight something this wide?"
Chess met her gaze. "Together."
Her breath caught—just for a second.
"You mean that?"
"Elsa, I've walked this path alone for too long. And if these pieces are moving toward war… then I want you at my side. Every step. Every storm."
Their fingers brushed across the desk.
And for that moment, they weren't heirs. They weren't titans or dragons or flames.
They were just two people—tethered by something deeper than legacy.
Meanwhile – Valemir Financial District
Kip Mandari stood before the towering structure of Silverridge Capital—a mid-tier firm with deep military and infrastructure investments.
Today, it had a new owner.
Him.
The ink was still drying, but the message was clear: Kip wasn't done. Not by a long shot.
His assistant, a wiry man with keen eyes, approached.
"We've secured their proprietary network. All internal intel is under your control."
"Good," Kip said without looking up. "Start probing the West Kavarian defense grid. Quietly."
The assistant blinked. "Isn't that… risky?"
Kip turned, his smile disarming. "Risk is for those who fear consequence. We don't."
He stepped into the lobby. Cameras clicked. Journalists tried to get a statement.
"Mr. Mandari! Is this a hostile takeover?"
"Will this affect the Jefferson merger talks?"
Kip raised a hand and flashed his trademark smile. "Ladies and gentlemen, Silverridge was simply… underutilized. I'm here to change that."
Inside, his smile faded. In the elevator's mirrored wall, he adjusted his cufflink—a custom seal embedded with the Kavarian insignia.
One war had ended.
But a bigger one was being carved from the shadows.
Elsewhere – Supreme Martial Sect Ruins, Hidden Chambers
Chess walked alone now.
The underground sanctum hummed with dormant power. He passed broken columns carved with ancient dragon runes, their meanings lost to even the oldest elders.
Until he reached it.
A chamber with seven stone pedestals—each marked with a symbol of power.
Only three glowed faintly.
He approached the fourth.
It was dark.
But as he reached out, a hidden door behind the pedestal hissed open—revealing a chamber flooded with soft blue flame and a mural painted in ancient gold leaf.
Dragons. Storms. Flames. And at the center—
A woman.
Her face familiar. Her eyes… Elsa's eyes.
Chess staggered.
"What the—"
Before he could react, the mural shifted. The woman in gold reached toward him, and her voice whispered into his mind.
"The seal's blood is yours. But her soul will choose the gate."
Chess's heart thundered.
Nothing would ever be the same.