Chapter 180 180: The Calm Before The Storm
Morning at Castle Zero began with the scent of toasted bread and smoked meat.
Lunethra had been in the kitchen since before the sun rose—not that there was ever a true sun, as the Forest of Lamentation never fully brightened. But she had memorized the rhythm of this castle: the sound of Kancil's footsteps, always the first to wake; the soft creak of Riri's door, followed by Loy a few minutes later; and the low grumbling of Dalgor as he limped toward the control room.
Today, she had prepared more than usual. She didn't quite know why. Perhaps it was because she felt... light. Her plants were growing, the children were training well, and this castle was finally starting to feel like a home.
"Sister Lunethra! It smells amazing!"
Riri appeared at the kitchen threshold, her hair a wild mess. Her eyes immediately darted to the plates arranged neatly on the table.
"Wash your face first," Lunethra said without turning, her hands busy flipping meat in the skillet.
"Is Loy awake yet?"
"He is. In the bathroom."
"And Kancil?"
"In the yard. Warming up, he said."
Lunethra nodded. Riri vanished, her footsteps light in the hallway. A few minutes later, she returned with a damp face and slightly tidier hair.
"I'll help carry these to the table, Sister."
"Be careful. It's hot."
Riri nodded, taking two plates in both hands. Her steps were cautious—she nearly tripped once but managed to regain her balance. Lunethra watched from the corner of her eye. A quick learner, she thought. Almost too quick.
Dayat woke to Dola's hand resting on his chest.
This had become a new habit, though he couldn't pinpoint when it started. Dola always slept after him and woke before him, yet every morning, the position was the same: her hand on his chest, her head on his shoulder, and silver hair scattered everywhere.
"You're awake?" Dayat asked, his voice thick with sleep.
"I have been. For two hours."
"Doing what?"
"Listening to your heartbeat."
Dayat opened his eyes. Dola was looking at him from the side. Her electric-blue eyes glowed dimly—fainter than usual, but the light was there.
"That's... creepy."
"I know." Dola offered a faint smile. "But I like it."
Dayat let out a breath, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward. He kissed her forehead—a brief, light gesture. "Let's get breakfast. I'm starving."
"You only just woke up."
"That's how normal humans work."
They rose. Dola moved more fluidly now, no longer needing to lean against the walls or seek support. Her white cape draped over her as always. Dayat walked beside her—not holding her hand, but close enough to touch.
In the hallway, they crossed paths with Lunethra, who was just leaving the kitchen carrying a tray of bread and jam.
"Morning," Dayat greeted.
Lunethra smiled. "Morning. You're just in time. I've only just finished."
Dola eyed the tray. "You cooked a great deal."
"I thought... we all needed a good breakfast today."
Dola didn't respond. She merely gave a small nod and continued walking. Lunethra followed behind, her gaze lingering on Dayat's back, then on Dola's hand as it occasionally brushed her husband's arm.
They suit each other, she thought. Perfectly.
She looked down at her own tray. Bread and jam. Simple. But she had made it. That was enough.
The dining table in The Heart of Logic was full for the first time in a long while.
Dayat sat at the head of the table, Dola to his right. Lunethra sat to his left—not by choice, but because it was the only chair remaining. Kancil, Loy, and Riri sat lined up across from them. Dalgor was at the other end, close to the control panel—just in case an urgent notification arrived.
"Wow, quite a crowd," Kancil said, his eyes widening at the spread on the table.
"Sister Lunethra cooked a lot!" Riri added, already gripping her fork.
"Eat first, talk later." Dayat took a slice of bread and spread some jam. The others followed suit.
The atmosphere was warm. The clatter of forks against plates, the sound of chewing, and Riri's occasional "Delicious!" with a full mouth filled the air.
Dalgor suddenly cleared his throat. "Back in Bakasa, I started with just a small workshop. Only three of us—myself and two apprentices. One eventually became a soldier. The other... who knows. Disappeared during the Inquisition's raid."
The table fell silent.
"Why tell us that now, Uncle?" Kancil asked.
Dalgor shrugged. "Just remembering. Watching you three train yesterday. It felt similar. You're more coordinated, though."
Loy stared at his plate. Riri stopped chewing. Kancil gave Dalgor's shoulder a gentle pat.
"We're coordinated because Kancil trains us," Riri said suddenly.
Kancil choked. "Huh?"
"Seriously. Kancil's become so stern, even though we used to just play together in Bakasa."
"Stern? Me?" Kancil rubbed the back of his neck.
Dayat offered a small smile. Dola glanced at him, then returned to her plate. Lunethra watched the interaction, then lowered her head. They are like a family, she thought. And I... I am here. That is enough.
Dola's hand suddenly brushed Dayat's on the table. Brief. Light. But Lunethra saw it.
She chewed her bread more slowly. It is enough, she repeated to herself. It has to be.
After breakfast, Dayat and Dalgor headed to the control room. Dola joined them, taking a seat near the panel. Kancil led Loy and Riri to the yard—light training, he called it. No one should be stiff after a meal.
Lunethra went to the terrace.
The sprouts were much taller now. Tiny leaves were emerging, pale green and waving gently in the morning breeze. She knelt, touching the soil in one of the pots. Damp. Cold. But there was something strange.
That smell again.
She sniffed the air. A faint stench of rot—like meat beginning to decay. Yesterday she had ignored it. Now, she couldn't.
From the forest? She looked toward the blackened trees in the distance. The mist shifted as usual. Nothing stood out. Perhaps a dead animal. A wolf or something of the sort.
She returned to her plants. The leaves waved. She failed to notice the black patch on one of them—it was now the size of a palm, spreading through the veins of the other leaves. The color blended with the pale green, nearly impossible to distinguish unless observed with absolute scrutiny.
And Lunethra was not scrutinizing.
She watered the plants, wiped the dust from the leaves, and stood up. "Grow well," she whispered. "You are my home now."
She went inside. Behind her, the black patch pulsed rhythmically.
In the forest, Morbis stood behind a tree.
He held a withered sprig—identical to the ones on the terrace. The leaves were yellowing, a black speck at the tip. He stared at the castle in the distance.
He said nothing.
He only offered a thin smile.
Then, he receded into the fog. The withered plant in his hand crumbled into black dust, carried away by the wind.
In the south, far beyond the reach of any eye, the Plagueborne army continued its march.
They walked soundlessly. Tirelessly. Without a purpose they could comprehend. Their skin was blackened, their eyes hollow. Farmers, mothers, children, dogs—all marched in a disorganized but relentless line toward the north.
Their numbers grew. Every village they passed was empty, its inhabitants already dead—but several new corpses rose and joined the ranks. Slow. Relentless. Like an unstoppable flood.
Late afternoon. The Heart of Logic was full once more.
Dayat stood before the throne. The others sat or stood around him. No one spoke. The atmosphere was different from the morning—heavier.
"I just want to say something," Dayat began. His voice was low, but it carried to everyone. "We might not have many moments like this left."
Kancil tensed. Loy gripped Riri's hand beside him.
"I don't mean we're dying tomorrow," Dayat continued. "But... things outside are getting more uncertain. The Harbingers are rising. Brassvale and Ignis-Sol are on the brink of war. Verdia is still in chaos. And we're here, in the middle of it all."
He looked at each of them in turn.
"I don't know what's going to happen. But I know one thing: as long as we're still here, as long as we're together... we have a chance."
Silence.
"So..." Dayat took a breath. "Enjoy this. Moments like these. Breakfast together. Training together. Pointless conversations. Because... that's what keeps us sane."
Riri nodded slowly. Loy gripped Riri's hand tighter. Kancil stared at the floor, his jaw tightening.
Lunethra looked at Dayat. You've changed, she thought. Once, you only wanted to survive. Now, you want to protect.
Dola touched Dayat's hand briefly, then looked at the others. "You have all done your best. Continue."
That was all. But coming from Dola, it felt like a grand oration.
Dalgor cleared his throat. "In that case... I'm off to the control room. Just in case there's a notification."
"Uncle Dalgor!" Riri called out. "What are we having for dinner?"
Dalgor stopped and turned. "You're asking me? Ask Lunethra."
"Sister Lunethra, what are we having for dinner?"
Lunethra smiled. "Whatever you like. What do you want?"
"Meat! Lots of it!"
The others laughed. Even Dola offered a thin smile.
Night. Lunethra was in her room.
She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her own hands. I am here. I am part of them. That is enough. It has to be enough.
But why did her chest still feel so tight?
She remembered Dola's hand touching Dayat's. Brief. Light. But full of meaning. They belonged to each other. And she... she was merely a spectator.
It is enough, she whispered to herself. This is enough.
She lay down, pulled up the covers, and closed her eyes.
Outside, on the terrace, beneath the moonlight piercing through the fog, the black patch on the leaf pulsed. Slowly. Like a heartbeat.
Black roots had already slithered from the pots to the stone floor, creeping silently up the castle walls. Unseen. Undetected.
Morbis, from a distance, watched the castle. His hands were empty. No withered plants.
He only smiled.
Then, he vanished.