At the wilderness where Azaron's bungalow could be seen situated, the Wargrave family had gathered in rare unity. The vast stretch of land surrounding the isolated structure was calm, almost unnaturally so, as though the very world understood the gravity of the beings currently present within it.

Azaron Wargrave, the Duke and patriarch of the family, stood at the center of it all, his presence imposing yet restrained. Beside and around him were Malrik Wargrave, the First Sun, Wuthenya Wargrave, the Second Moon, Xavier and Xavienne Wargrave, the Third Sun and Third Moon respectively, and Apollo Wargrave, the Fifth Sun. It was almost a full family reunion, a sight that was uncommon even by Wargrave standards.

The atmosphere was neither warm nor cold, but balanced in an odd, unsettling way. Power lingered invisibly in the air, thick enough that even the land itself seemed to bow. For any outsider, this gathering would have been overwhelming beyond comprehension.

"Congratulations, Wuthenya," Malrik spoke as he stared at her, his sharp eyes holding both pride and scrutiny. "It seems you've finally taken a step forward."

At his words, a small smile appeared on Wuthenya's face, subtle yet genuine. She had broken through during her recent battle, her limits finally giving way under pressure. She had now reached the Radiant Voidstar Life Rank, a significant milestone even among elites. Only a single step separated her from the Soulstar Life Rank, a realm that defined true transcendence.

"I have to say thank you to Father," she spoke calmly, her gaze shifting toward Azaron. "If he hadn't invited me, I wouldn't have made this breakthrough this early."

Azaron merely nodded in her direction, his expression unchanged, offering no verbal response.

He didn't exactly congratulate her. There wasn't really anything to congratulate in his eyes. She was a Wargrave. A breakthrough was inevitable; it had never been a question of if, only when and where. Praise was unnecessary when destiny itself was already aligned.

Malrik's attention shifted as his eyes turned toward Apollo, who was lying lazily on a couch within Azaron's study room. His posture was careless, almost disrespectful, red eyes half-lidded as though the world itself bored him.

"It seems you didn't break through this time," Malrik remarked, his tone neutral. "It appears your cheating ability requires more souls."

Apollo's crimson gaze slid lazily toward Malrik before he yawned without restraint. "Maybe," he replied sluggishly. "We'll find out on the next battlefield."

Even speaking those few words seemed to drain him. Moments later, he shut his eyes again, drifting back into a light doze as though nothing of importance had been said.

Meanwhile, Xavier and Xavienne approached Azaron, who was seated in his chair, the chair positioned behind a large table as he calmly went through stacks of documents and files. His movements were precise, unhurried, every motion reflecting control.

"What do the both of you want this time?" Azaron asked, his voice carrying a faint edge of exhaustion that only these twins ever managed to draw out of him.

"Don't you think you're forgetting something, Father?" Xavier spoke, staring directly at Azaron with his pitch-black eyes.

Azaron arched an eyebrow, genuine confusion flickering across his otherwise composed face.

"The rest of the assassins' bases," Xavienne explained calmly. "We only destroyed their headquarters. What about the others scattered across the Empire?"

Azaron sighed inwardly. "I should have seen that coming," he thought to himself. Xavier and Xavienne were, without question, more battle-hungry than any other Wargrave.

"Your elder brother has already handled it," Azaron replied. "While you two were busy dealing with a handful of enemies, we moved across the Empire and wiped out the remaining bases."

He waved them away dismissively and returned his attention to his paperwork, clearly done with the topic.

Xavier and Xavienne both turned to Malrik, staring at him as though he had committed a personal betrayal. Malrik's lips twitched, unsure how to respond at first. After a brief pause, he finally spoke.

"Grow stronger and defeat your enemies faster," he said. "After all, you don't expect your enemies to wait patiently for you to come kill them… right?"

Without waiting for their reply, he turned and walked away. He simply didn't have the strength to deal with the twins, much like Azaron. Wuthenya chuckled softly, shaking her head in mild amusement before following Malrik out of Azaron's study room.

"Do you need anything?" Malrik asked as he turned slightly, noticing her following behind him.

"A spar," she replied calmly. She wasn't delusional enough to believe she could suddenly win. She merely wanted to test her newly acquired strength. This was something she often did with Malrik after every breakthrough.

"No problem then," Malrik replied instantly. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and in the next moment, both of them vanished.

Xavier and Xavienne came rushing out seconds later, shouting in unison, "Wait for us!" But Malrik and Wuthenya were already long gone, their destination unknown.

Around the base, the Knights had entered a full healing session. Those with healing abilities moved methodically among the injured, restoring wounds one by one. Others, responsible for crafting weapons and armor, immediately began repairs. Nobody wasted time. This was routine, something they were long accustomed to.

The Knights needed to return to full health as quickly as possible, and their equipment had to be battle-ready at all times. After all, the next battle could very well be tomorrow.

Malrik and Wuthenya appeared in a desolate area composed of swamps, twisted trees, shallow lakes, and muddy terrain.

"Here should be perfect," Malrik stated.

The moment the words left his lips, a dagger streaked through the air, aimed directly at his neck.

Although Wuthenya had launched a surprise attack, to Malrik it was no faster than a snail. He calmly observed the incoming blade, shaking his head slightly as he stepped aside, moving as though time itself had slowed for him. The dagger tore past the space he had occupied a split second earlier, the shockwave from the missed strike ripping through the swamp. Water exploded upward, wet sand and debris scattering violently.

"Tsk," Wuthenya clicked her tongue in frustration. "Those at the Crownstar Life Rank are definitely cheating at this point. I can't wait to get there."

She had known he would dodge, but she still had to try.

Malrik simply shook his head. "We aren't," he replied. "Think of it as a Faintstar Life Ranker trying to fight you."

She sighed. "Whatever. I'll catch up in a few years."

Her confidence was unshaken, rooted in her talent and rapid growth. She couldn't wait to finally match Malrik. Only if she knew just how futile that dream truly was. Malrik said nothing. He knew she would never reach him, but why say that aloud? He loved being her motivation.

"Same rules as always?" he asked, smiling gently.

"Same rules as always," Wuthenya replied with a nod.

The instant she finished speaking, she entered a battle-ready stance. Her knee dipped forward, the ground beneath her feet cracking under the pressure. Then she shot forward like a missile, her velocity surpassing anything she had previously achieved.

Lunar energy surged through her daggers, and without mercy for her caring and handsome brother, she attacked with pinpoint accuracy and lethal intent.

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