CHAPTER 555: THE DAY HAS ARRIVED

The days slipped by with a quiet swiftness, each one folding into the next until the morning of Liam’s journey to the Crescent Kingdom finally arrived. When the hour came, he stood alongside Queen Lucy and Mystica, accompanied by four Tempest royal knights, their armor gleaming with disciplined sharpness. Together, they made their way to Celestria—the pristine, frost-veiled capital of Zone 1, a place whispered about for its ruthless cold and unforgiving beauty.

Deep within the marble veins of the Crescent Palace, a pulse of shimmering blue light began to thrum against the frost-kissed walls. The glow expanded, rippling outward in delicate waves until a portal blossomed open, its surface bending the air like liquid glass. One by one, Liam, Queen Lucy, Mystica, and Mabel stepped through, emerging behind the armored escort into an expansive chamber bathed in soft azure luminance.

Awaiting them stood a man clad in a pristine robe of pale, icy blue. His dark hair was combed into perfect order, and his piercing blue eyes carried a glint of professional warmth that, for the briefest moment, softened the frigid air. Zeis—the Crescent Palace’s appointed overseer of teleportation arrivals—inclined his head respectfully. Behind him, several Crescent knights stood at attention, and further ahead, two imposing guards flanked the double doors without so much as a blink.

"Queen Lucy of the Tempest Kingdom," Zeis greeted smoothly, his voice echoing in the polished chamber. "Welcome to the Crescent Kingdom and its royal palace. I will be escorting you to the council room for the meeting."

"Good to see you again, Zeis. We’ll be in your care," Lucy replied evenly, her tone calm yet carrying the quiet authority she never needed to raise her voice to display.

"Of course." Zeis paused briefly, his gaze drifting over the group—past the knights, past Mabel—until it stopped at Liam. A flicker of disdain passed through his eyes, a quick but unmistakable shift in expression as though he had come face-to-face with something unpleasant.

"And the terms and conditions for the dark mage," he added, his politeness remaining intact yet hollow.

Lucy’s cold emerald eyes fixed on him sharply. "Yes, I’m well aware," she said, her voice dipping into a firmer register. "We are ready when you are. And for the record, his name is Liam Hunter. Not ’dark mage.’ I would appreciate it if you addressed him properly."

Zeis held her gaze for a breath, the faintest ripples of irritation pressing against his stiff composure. Then he forced a shallow bow. "Of course. My apologies," he said, though the insincerity clung to his words like frost on glass. "Now then, please step into the rune circle."

Queen Lucy moved first, followed by Mystica, Mabel, and the Tempest knights. They entered the intricately etched circle glowing faintly on the polished floor, allowing the Crescent attendants to perform their thorough checks for concealed artifacts, forbidden enchantments, or any myst anomalies.

Then Zeis called Liam forward.

Liam stepped in without hesitation, and a binding spell wrapped around him—cold, invasive, and clamping down on his myst like chains forged from glacial steel. His affinities sank beneath the restriction with a sensation akin to numbness crawling through his veins. He neither flinched nor reacted, simply allowing it to settle like dead weight in his core.

Once the procedure was complete, Zeis turned swiftly and gestured down the corridor. "This way, please."

They followed him into the palace’s sprawling hallways, the cold seeping into Liam’s skin with each step. Even wrapped in a heat-chanted coat, he felt the bite of the temperature gnawing at him relentlessly.

’Even indoors I feel this crap?’ he thought bitterly as they crossed another frost-coated archway. ’This place is unbearable. How do people survive like this?’

He had never liked cold climates, and if not for the necessity of his plan, he would have avoided the Crescent Kingdom entirely—especially Zone 1. Mabel had warned him about the brutal conditions of the upper zones, and though he had mentally prepared himself, nothing had truly prepared him for this level of discomfort. A small, irrational part of him wished his affinities weren’t sealed, if only so he could warm himself with a bit of dark fire—though he would never admit such a thought out loud.

’Let’s just get this over with and get out of here,’ he muttered inwardly, pushing through another biting gust of cold air.

As they continued through the palace halls, they passed numerous Crescent knights—some patrolling, others stationed like statues of frost. Not a single one failed to turn their gaze toward Liam. Every pair of eyes followed him with the same expression: contempt sharpened with disgust, hatred simmering beneath disciplined restraint.

Some glared openly. Others narrowed their eyes. A few even turned their heads slightly as though bracing against a foul smell. Liam caught all of it, every hostile glance, every twitch of animosity. Yet he didn’t spare any of them more than a fleeting acknowledgment.

’Aimless fossils,’ he thought. ’I want to leave this place more than you even think.’

The cold gnawed at him more than their hatred ever could, and all he wanted was for this meeting to be done so he could leave this frozen kingdom behind.

After several minutes of walking through the frost-lined corridors, the group finally arrived before the towering double doors of the council chamber. As they approached, Zeis halted abruptly and turned to face them, smoothing his expression with practiced calm.

"The dark—" he began, only to cut himself off the moment he met Lucy’s unwavering stare. He swallowed lightly, then corrected himself with a strained composure. "Liam Hunter will be asked to remain outside for the moment while Queen Lucy and Mystica Moonstone enter first to settle in."

Lucy shifted her gaze over her shoulder, her attention settling on Mabel, who stood alert just behind Liam. "Stay with him," she instructed quietly, her tone leaving no space for argument.

"Understood, Your Majesty," Mabel replied through her mask, offering a respectful bow.

Lucy spared Liam a brief, reassuring look—a faint, knowing smile touching her lips—before she and Mystica, accompanied by two of their Tempest knights, stepped through the imposing doors and disappeared into the chamber beyond.

Left standing outside with Mabel and the remaining knights positioned behind him, Liam let his gaze drift lazily toward the two Crescent knights guarding the entrance. Their expressions remained twisted with disgust, their cold stares clinging to him like a stain they wished gone.

’Tch. What a waste of time,’ he thought, settling into a stillness that looked calm but simmered with impatience beneath the surface.

As the minutes slipped by, he noticed something shift in the Crescent knights’ expressions. Their contempt drained into something tighter—eyes widening, jaws stiffening—as their gazes moved past Liam’s shoulder toward the far end of the hallway. Their posture went rigid, almost fearful.

Liam raised an eyebrow, mildly curious about what had caused such a sudden change. Before he could turn to see for himself, he heard the Tempest knights behind him—and even Mabel—offer a sharp, synchronized greeting.

"Sir Magna."

A low hum of acknowledgment answered them, smooth and familiar. Galen walked past the small formation with an air of quiet dominance, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his coat. He came to a stop beside Liam, the warmth of his presence subtle but potent.

"You’re looking pretty alive," Galen remarked, casting a Silent spell around them with a single flick of myst. The effect wrapped around them like a quiet bubble, sealing their voices away from prying ears.

"Same goes for you," Liam replied evenly, glancing at him from the corner of his eye. "Didn’t expect you to show up."

"Well," Galen said with an indifferent shrug, "I wanted to see firsthand what sort of clever trick you’re planning to pull in front of those retards."

Liam let out a faint scoff—short, dry, almost amused.

Galen gave him a sidelong look, his crimson eyes glinting faintly. "How’s the icebox treating you? You’re not actually feeling pressured by all the useless stares from these air-wasting fossils, are you?"

"I couldn’t care less about their stares. I’m just freezing my ass off. That’s the only thing bothering me," Liam answered without hesitation.

Galen smirked, amusement warming his expression as though he understood every word of the sentiment. "Yeah, I hear you. It’s one of the many reasons I can’t stand this place."

A brief silence passed between them before Galen spoke again, his tone leveling out into something more serious.

"Anyway," he continued, "since you’ve seen Valemir through your mother’s memories, I’m sure you already understand how deep his hatred runs for dark mages. I trust you know exactly how to handle him?"

"Of course. That’s the only reason I’m confident walking in there," Liam replied, steady and assured.

"Good. Then there’s nothing more for me to add," Galen said calmly. "Just be yourself."

As if summoned by the weight of the moment, the council doors creaked open with a slow, resonant sound. Without another word exchanged, Liam stepped forward beside Galen, and together they crossed the threshold into the chamber.