Chapter 61 – The War at Home
The gates of Luther Citadel loomed ahead, carved into the mountainside, crowned with silver banners. Jean's return was unannounced, but the winds carried her flame long before her feet crossed the threshold.
The guards stood in stunned silence as Jean approached, draped in her travel cloak, Luxclade on her back, and Whitney at her side. Her aura had evolved—no longer the flicker of a prodigy, but the steady burn of a rising sun. Even the Grand Masters at the wall felt it.
The gates opened.
"Jean Luther," said Commander Harkon, bowing as he stepped forward. "The Envoy Knights await you. And so do your brothers."
Jean frowned. "The Succession War… it's begun?"
He nodded. "Three days after your disappearance. With your silence, they assumed you fell in the Iron Empire. Lord Tiran made the first strike."
Tiran, Jean thought. Always the first to bleed for power.
"What of Silvia?"
"She remains neutral. Still guarding the sanctum. She won't raise her blade."
Jean lowered her eyes. "She will soon. If Antares rises, even she will have to choose."
She entered the citadel. Familiar halls greeted her—sword banners, statues of ancestors, the great flame of the Luther line burning in the central courtyard. The warriors bowed as she passed. Not out of protocol. Out of awe.
The new flame within her whispered to all who could sense power:
A Transcendent walks among you.
In the Envoy Hall, the surviving Transcendent Masters stood—Elric, Nadra, and old Commander Vohn. Their faces were worn by war and years of duty.
"Jean," Elric said, the first to break the silence. "You were dead."
Jean threw down a piece of void-forged steel—the mark of the dark emissary.
"I was hunting the truth."
She laid Luxclade on the table. It burned bright, and with it, Severra's voice echoed faintly in the chamber.
"There is no time," Jean said. "The Dragon Lord Antares stirs. The Iron Empress is preparing to awaken him fully—with the help of a god long banished."
They listened.
No one doubted her.
"Then the Succession War is meaningless," Nadra muttered.
"No," Jean said, eyes narrowing. "It's worse than meaningless. It weakens us. Divides us. And when Antares returns, we will fall—unless we unite."
Silence.
Then Commander Vohn stood. "Then perhaps you should claim what is yours."
Jean looked up.
"Are you saying…"
"It is time," Vohn said. "You are the Emissary of Light. But more than that… you are a Luther. And this Clan needs a leader who can stand against gods and dragons alike."
Jean stared at the flame.
The fire of her lineage.
Her destiny.
And she said:
"Then let the others come. I will not run from this war."
---