Chapter 436 The Silent Ruins of Elysvarre
Setting: 5 Years Before the Stones Arc
Rain fell silently, as if the sky itself could not bear to weep truly for such a monumental event.
The wind whipped up golden dust and shards of marble, carrying the scent of old blood and dry, wilted flowers. The remnants of Elysvarre Palace—once a royal residence filled with magic, love, and luxury—had now transformed into quiet rubble devoid of identity, mirroring lost grandeur and the deep sorrow of forgotten pasts.
Amid the ruins stood Fitran Fate, alone, without a royal mantle and devoid of light in his eyes. Only a long, dark cloak hung from his body, woven from threads of will that had lost their direction and purpose.
His hands, which once wielded Excalibur and inscribed grand glyphs, now trembled as they brushed against a shattered pillar. That pillar had once supported the sky of the throne room where Sheena stood, raising her hand to deliver judgment upon the world. Now, only remnants of the Elyndra family emblem remained—cracked in its center, as if unable to bear the weight of its bloodline.
Behind the aura of sadness surrounding her, dark shadows began to gather at the edge of Fitran's vision. For a moment, Beelzebub's face flickered in his mind, a figure capable of transforming despair into strength. "Are you still here?" she thundered, her voice seemingly carried by thousands of insects vibrating in the heart of the forest. There was no response, only the rumble of clouds as a silent witness.
"Where are you...", Fitran murmured in a hoarse voice.
The voice faded as it touched the air, as if the world itself had lost the ability to recognize it.
In Fitran's mind, the echoes of the past vibrated, reminding him of the moments they shared secrets under the moonlight, when Beelzebub had planted the seeds of wisdom in his heart. "You taught me to see the world in a new way," he thought, dispelling the uncertainty within him. Perhaps, Beelzebub's presence was not only in physical form but as a force flowing through every decision he made – a power that shaped his perspective and choices in this grim world.
Under the ruins, Fitran navigated the underground chambers of the palace that had once been sealed with the magic of time. He walked slowly, passing by stacks of partially burned books, torn pactum scrolls, and the charred portraits of the Elyndra family. Each object around him told a story of loss; in the shattered remnants, he could hear soft voices resonating, recounting tales that had never been fully revealed, as if every item held the memories of the warmth of days long past.
He discovered the room of memories—a magical place where Sheena used to keep fragments of their past. Each step within it would evoke specific moments, as if the space had woven itself into a labyrinth of memories filled with both beautiful and bittersweet experiences waiting to be remembered.