Capítulo 383: Ten Years Until Dawn II
I paused, letting the words sink in before dropping the weight of the truth. "But against demons."
Alastor frowned, skepticism flickering across his face. "That may just be illusory correlation," he countered. "A convenient narrative to string together what might just be chance."
I nodded, acknowledging his point. "Fair," I admitted. "But if it's coincidence, then explain this: Why did demons appear after centuries of silence three and a half years ago? Why now?"
Mo's expression darkened, the question hitting deeper than I expected. "The demons are stirring, yes," he said, his voice cautious. "But stirring doesn't mean preparation for war. It could be something else."
"It's not," I replied firmly. "They're preparing. Because the truce is ending."
"Truce?" Mo asked, his tone sharp with curiosity and unease. Alastor's brow furrowed, his usually steady demeanor giving way to unease.
I turned to the side, calling out into the still air. "Luna."
She appeared in a shimmer of light, her small form coalescing like a dream made real. Her violet hair flowed like liquid amethyst, her galaxy-like eyes scanning the room with a calm intensity. She seemed to bring with her the weight of knowledge older than anyone in this room, perhaps older than humanity itself.
Mo and Alastor stared at her, their Radiant-rank instincts flaring as they instantly recognized the sheer otherworldliness of her presence.
"This is Luna," I said, keeping my tone calm, though I knew her arrival would cause ripples in their minds. "She's a qilin—and who gave me Lucent Harmony."
"A qilin," Mo murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. Even a Radiant-ranker couldn't hide his astonishment. "How...?"
"She'll explain," I said, stepping back to let Luna take the stage.
Luna clasped her small hands in front of her, her voice ringing with clarity despite her youthful appearance. "Julius Slatemark," she began, her gaze sweeping over the two Kings. "The great emperor of the Slatemark Empire. You both know him as a peerless talent and a Radiant-ranker of unmatched brilliance as well as one who received my will. But there's a truth about him that has been long buried. A truth tied to the demons."
Mo's expression sharpened. "What truth?"
Luna tilted her head slightly, her starry gaze seeming to pierce through time itself. "Julius didn't just fight against the demons. He brokered a truce with them. A truce that bound humanity's survival to a delicate balance. Truce that prevented demons from directly descending upon Earth. The truce wasn't meant to last forever. It was a pause, not a resolution."
Alastor's jaw tightened, his Radiant-rank aura stirring faintly around him. "And you're saying that truce is about to end."
"Yes," Luna said simply. "The demons have waited. They've watched. And now, they're preparing to return, stronger and more unified than ever before. The anomalies you see—the surge of talent in this generation, the sudden stirring of ancient enemies like the vampires—are ripples from the same source. The world is gearing up for a storm, whether humanity is ready or not."
The room fell silent, the weight of her words pressing down like a mountain. Mo's icy demeanor cracked for just a moment, a flicker of genuine concern crossing his face.
Alastor, however, was the first to speak, his voice low but steady. "If this is true, then we don't just need strength. We need strategy. Unity. Allies."
"And time," I added. "Which is exactly what we don't have."
Luna nodded, her expression solemn. "The truce may have bought us centuries of peace, but it also lulled humanity into complacency. The demons know this. And they will exploit it."
Mo leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he processed the revelation. "So what do we do, Arthur? If the demons are truly returning, how do we prepare?"
I met his gaze, my resolve hardening. "We get stronger. Smarter. We find every advantage we can, no matter how small. And we don't stop. Not until we're ready to meet them head-on."
"And if we're not ready?" Alastor asked, his voice like a steady blade, sharp yet grounded. There was no derision in it, only the solemn weight of a man who had seen countless battles and knew the stakes of losing.
"Then we die," I replied simply, my voice resolute, stripped of pretense. "But I don't plan on letting that happen."
Mo leaned forward, his hands steepled under his chin, his icy blue eyes piercing as he turned to Luna. "How much time do we have?"
"Ten years or so," Luna answered, her voice calm but laced with an undercurrent of urgency. "Then the truce will end, and the demons will come."
"Ten years..." Mo muttered, his gaze falling to the table as he calculated silently. "It's not enough time, not to prepare an entire world."
"How strong are these demons?" Alastor asked, his tone neutral but laced with curiosity and unease. He wasn't the type to shy from an enemy, no matter how insurmountable, but even he had his limits.
"Far stronger than humanity right now," Luna said, exhaling softly as though the truth weighed heavily even on her otherworldly form. "The demons are so far beyond us that humanity doesn't even register as a threat. Not yet. If they wanted, they could send one of their Archdukes to wipe us out tomorrow."
"Archdukes?" Mo asked, leaning back, his posture stiffening.
Luna nodded, her galaxy-like eyes shimmering faintly, as if gazing into realms far beyond comprehension. "Demons have a hierarchy. Demon Dukes are akin to normal Radiant-rankers—low or mid. Archdukes, however, have stepped into the realm of transcendence. They are high or peak Radiant-rankers. And then there are the Lords."
"Lords?" Alastor asked, his voice lowering as though the word itself carried weight.
"Demon Lords are Divine-rankers," Luna said gravely. "They stand far above Archdukes, as unreachable to them as the Archdukes are to humanity. There are seven Lords, each ruling vast territories across the demon realms. And above them, there is only one—"
"The Overlord," I finished for her, my voice barely above a whisper, though it felt like it echoed across the room.
"Yes," Luna confirmed, her form flickering slightly as if the sheer weight of speaking his title reverberated through her essence. "The Overlord stands alone. His power is so absolute, so overwhelming, that even the Lords, who could each end this world a dozen times over, kneel before him."
Mo's expression was grim, his jaw tight as he absorbed the information. "One Overlord, seven Lords, fourteen Archdukes, and an untold number of Dukes," he said, his voice even but heavy. "And we're meant to stand against that?"
"No," Luna replied simply, her eyes locking onto Mo with a calm intensity. "Not as you are now. Not as humanity is now."
Alastor's lips pressed into a thin line, his vibrant blue eyes narrowing. "You're painting a picture of hopelessness. Why tell us this if the gap is so insurmountable?"
"Because it's not hopeless," Luna said, her voice firm now, a spark of defiance cutting through the somber atmosphere.
She turned to me, her gaze softening slightly. "There's you, Arthur."
"Me?" I asked, my brow furrowing.
"You, and others like you," she said. "This generation isn't ordinary. The talents emerging now aren't coincidence. They're a reaction. A counterbalance. Humanity has always grown stronger when it's on the brink of annihilation. You're proof of that."
Her words hung in the air, a faint flicker of hope in the encroaching shadow. But hope alone wasn't enough. Not yet.
"So we have ten years," Mo said, his voice cutting through the silence, steady as ice. "Ten years to create Radiant-rankers and find a way to fight beings who could crush entire continents on a whim."
"Ten years to survive," Alastor added, his tone grim but resolute. "It's not much. But it's something."
"And it's all we've got," I said, my voice resolute, though my mind churned with the enormity of the task ahead.
Ten years. It wasn't enough.
But it would have to be.
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