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墨書 Inktalez
Luna's small hand tightly grasped a strand of Aelia's silver hair, her gaze resolute, unlike that of a child. She understood that the silence of this moment held more power than any noise could convey.
In the original story, Aelia discovered Leonard's betrayal only after his death, by which time the Glorious Demon Fortress had already crumbled, and her three sons had each met their own tragic fates. Luna would not allow such a thing to happen, even if it meant she had to tear apart Mother’s illusion of happiness with her own hands.
“Mom,” Luna's baby voice carried an undeniable seriousness, “Dad… he has another… baby.” She deliberately spoke in fragmented sentences, describing this cruel truth as a child would.
Aelia froze, looking down at her daughter as if she were gazing at a doll spouting nonsense. The smile on her face stiffened, like a beautiful mask cracking. The whispers in the hall continued, flooding her ears like a tide, yet they felt distant and blurred. She could feel the warmth of Luna's small hand, but that warmth pierced her heart like a spike, striking at her most tender spot.
“Luna, what are you saying?” Aelia's voice trembled, like a leaf about to fall. She was unwilling to believe it and dared not accept it. For years, her love for Leonard had been the cornerstone of her pride and the source of her happiness. If that cornerstone crumbled, her world would collapse along with it.
Luna said nothing more but slipped a small magical token hidden in her swaddling into Aelia's hand. She had secretly taken it while Leonard was distracted; it bore the names of Leonard and another woman along with the birth date of their illegitimate child. The token emitted a faint magical glow, like a cold star illuminating the harsh reality before Aelia.
Aelia's fingers trembled as they brushed against the token; the magical light reflected on her pale face, making her eyes appear hollow as if she had lost her soul. The clamor in the hall gradually faded away; it felt as though the world consisted solely of this token in her hand and Luna's overly mature eyes.
She felt a wave of suffocation wash over her, as if an invisible hand were choking her throat, preventing her from breathing. “No… it can’t be…” Aelia murmured to herself, tears silently streaming down her face, leaving two clear trails on her cheeks. In that moment, her world came crashing down.
She held Luna tightly, her body trembling more violently, like a small boat about to capsize in a storm. Her three sons sitting nearby sensed their mother’s distress. The eldest son, who had been confined to a wheelchair for years due to Magic Backlash, furrowed his brow deeply; his deep blue eyes were filled with concern. He understood how profound Mother’s feelings for Father were and could foresee the storm this news would bring upon their family.
The pain of the Magic Backlash made him more sensitive to the impending changes in the future. It was as if he could already see the turmoil his family was about to face and the deterioration of his own health. He gripped the armrests of the wheelchair tightly, his knuckles turning white, as if pouring all his anxiety into that grip.
Second Brother, who had once fallen into the Magic Dilemma after being betrayed by a close friend, felt his anger burning like a fire when he saw Mother in pain. He understood well the taste of betrayal—the deep hurt inflicted by someone he had trusted still lingered in his heart.
Suddenly, he stood up, his gaze sharp as a Blade Edge directed at Leonard in the distance. His fists were clenched, knuckles cracking audibly. He longed to rush forward and tear Leonard apart.
The eerie silence in the hall persisted for what felt like an eternity, as if time had frozen at that moment. Luna quietly nestled in Aelia's embrace, feeling Mother's tremors and tears. She knew that this storm was only just beginning.
Suddenly, Brother San spoke up, his voice trembling, “Mother, you—” But before he could finish, a loud crash interrupted him.
The deafening sound echoed through the hall like a lightning bolt slicing through the heavy silence. The crystal goblet thrown by Eldest Son Elias shattered against the marble floor into countless pieces, scattering like falling stars. The glimmering shards reflected the flickering candlelight, casting dancing shadows on the terrified faces of the family.
The sweet aroma of wine mixed with the metallic scent of blood, creating a stark contrast to the suffocating tension in the air. Elias's face was pale, etched with lines of worry; his usually calm blue eyes were now ablaze with fury. He struggled to rise from the wheelchair.
Years ago, that Magic Backlash had left him disabled in his twin legs, and now waves of pain surged through them, constantly reminding him of his helplessness. Yet despite his physical limitations, a protective force surged within him. He had to do something; he had to protect his mother.
He noticed that his brother, Second Son Damon, had already stood up. Damon's usually carefree face was twisted with anger. He gripped the back of a chair tightly, his knuckles turning white as his body trembled from the suppressed rage.
Damon knew well the taste of betrayal; he had tasted its bitterness and felt its sting. The memory of friends' betrayal was like a festering wound in his heart, fueling his anger further.
His eyes burned like embers, fixed intently on Leonard, the air thick with his silent vow of revenge. Meanwhile, his younger son, Finn, sat there, a myriad of conflicting emotions etched across his face. A wave of shame surged within him, hot and stinging like a heatwave. He, a person endowed with extraordinary magical talent, had squandered this gift by choosing the easy path of comfort over the arduous training it required. Now, faced with this family crisis, he felt an unbearable sense of helplessness. He had always relied on the strength and unwavering support of his family. Yet now, when they needed him most, he found himself powerless. This reality struck him like a heavy blow.
He clenched his fists, Ailya's White Nails digging into his palm, a bitter regret rising in his throat. "I will change," he silently vowed. "I will become the strength they need."
At the other end of the hall, Alia's loyal maid, Xisi, watched this scene unfold, her heart aching for her mistress. Her usually calm face was taut with anger, her brown eyes shimmering with fierce protectiveness. Years of serving Alia had forged an unbreakable bond between them. She had witnessed Alia's unwavering devotion to Leonard and the endless love she poured into their family. Seeing her mistress's world crumble before her eyes ignited a righteous fury within Xisi. No matter the cost, she would stand by Alia's side. She would be her shield, her sword, her voice. She would help her weather this storm and rebuild together.
Her lips pressed into a determined line as she clenched her hands at her sides. Lucius, Leonard's youngest son, sat there in disbelief, his expression one of shock. He had always idolized his father, viewing him as a pillar of strength and a symbol of honor. Now that image shattered before him, leaving behind a vast void filled with disappointment and confusion. He glanced from his distressed mother to his seemingly unrepentant father, his young heart struggling to reconcile the painful contradictions swirling within him—shame, anger, confusion—emotions roiling like a tempest in his soul.
He wanted to believe in his father; he sought some reason or explanation that could make this devastating truth seem rational.
But the evidence, that cold, unyielding fact, was undeniable. His once stable and predictable world had suddenly transformed into a dangerous and uncertain landscape. Leonard, the central figure of this storm, stood frozen as if struck by lightning. After the initial shock, he desperately tried to maintain his composure. He straightened his thin shoulders, forcing a nonchalant facade, but the flicker of panic in his eyes betrayed the chaos within him. He had not anticipated any of this.
He had always been careful, confident that his secrets would remain undiscovered. He had underestimated Luna, dismissing her as a mere child. Now, this little one had shattered the world he had meticulously constructed. He glanced around the room, feeling the accusatory stares and the palpable tension in the air. He needed to regain control and salvage the situation.
He opened his mouth, ready to explain, deny, to say anything to deflect responsibility. But before he could utter a word, Elias's tense yet resolute voice cut through the air: “Father… explain your actions.” The words hung in the air, laden with unspoken accusations and issuing a challenge amidst the chaos.
The fragile calm was shattered, replaced by an unmistakable sense of impending conflict. Leonard swallowed hard; under his son's gaze, his carefully crafted facade began to crumble. He opened his mouth again and then closed it, his mind racing to find the right words, the perfect lie…
“I…” he began, his voice barely a whisper, fading into the suddenly suffocating silence.
Then a cold and steady voice broke the tension. Alia's face was pale but composed as she finally spoke, her eyes fixed on her husband: “Leonard,” she said, the name slipping from her lips like a venomous whisper, “we need to talk.”
Within Glory Fortress, where once the air was filled with polished marble and blooming jasmine cedar fragrance, now hung an almost tangible atmosphere of tension. Little Luna was still a toddler; she sat on a soft velvet cushion playing with a silver rattle. She innocently looked around with her bright blue eyes seemingly oblivious to the storm brewing around her.
But those eyes—oh those eyes—held wisdom far beyond her years; they contained a secret understanding capable of tearing apart the very foundations of the fortress. Aelia, Lady of Glory Fortress, paced back and forth like a lioness trapped in a cage. Her elegant silk magic robe billowed around her as vibrant crimson contrasted sharply against the cold gray stone walls, reflecting the fury deep within her.
In her hand, she clutched a crumpled parchment—a carefully orchestrated "discovery" arranged by Luna that detailed her husband's infidelity; such profound betrayal felt like an actual wound.
“Lies,” she whispered, the word painfully escaping her lips. “All lies... He wouldn’t... He couldn’t...” Yet, even as she denied the truth, the seeds of doubt planted by Luna had already taken root and were growing at a terrifying pace. Those thorny vines wrapped around her heart, slowly draining the life from the carefully constructed world she inhabited.
Luna, with the impeccable timing only a Great Mage could possess, smiled as she reached out her chubby little hand toward her Mother. This seemingly innocent gesture was, in fact, a calculated move designed to push Aelia further into the abyss of despair.
Fortress Lord Leonard strode into the room, completely unaware that he was about to be caught in a storm. He wore his charming facade, a mask he had perfected over the years to hide the ugliness within.
“Darling,” he began, his voice laced with false concern, “what’s wrong?”
Before Aelia could unleash the anger and pain that had built up inside her, Little Manipulator Luna let out a piercing Qian Jiao. It was a clever distraction that gave Aelia time to gather her shattered emotions while intensifying the already tense atmosphere like a thickening Magic Potion.
The three brothers entered the room, each preoccupied with their own thoughts, drawn in by the commotion. The eldest brother, his leg bandaged, watched with weariness and sorrow; this betrayal reminded him of his own past experiences. The Second Brother, wounded by a friend's betrayal, clenched his fists as his gaze flickered between their parents, brewing a storm in his eyes. Meanwhile, the youngest brother, usually carefree, appeared lost and confused; the foundation of his world was trembling beneath him.
Aelia’s loyal maid Qin Si paced nervously at the door, her face etched with worry. She exchanged a knowing glance with Luna, silently acknowledging the unease this child had brought. Even young Lucius, not yet in his teens, sensed the shift in atmosphere; the carefree ambiance of the fortress was replaced by an ominous premonition of what was to come.
Finally, Aelia spoke up, her voice low and dangerous. “This...” She raised the Parchment, her hand trembling. “...explain this.”
Leonard turned pale as cracks appeared in his carefully constructed mask. He opened his mouth to speak, to weave a web of lies, but the words caught in his throat.
Luna noticed his hesitation and let out another deafening Qian Jiao, a sound that seemed to echo against the crumbling walls of their once-perfect family.
The game had begun.
The truth unearthed by an apparently innocent child was about to shatter Glory Fortress, and no one— not even Luna herself— knew what remnants would remain once all the Dust settled. This was a dangerous game, a gamble with Destiny, and Xiao Luna, with her innocent eyes and ancient soul, was determined to win.
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