As Mythris's last lightning bolts vanished, leaving behind a suffocating silence, St. Elms Chapel was now nothing more than a devastated ruin after the fierce battle. The smell of acrid smoke, pungent blood, and dark magic still lingered in the air, but the direct threat from Beleth had been eliminated, vanishing as if it had never existed.

Henry, Danz, and Halb stood there amidst the wreckage of a once-sacred place, their bodies exhausted and their wounds still bleeding, but their hearts were filled with astonishment and a glimmer of hope. The soft blue light still radiated from Mythris; it was no longer sharp and terrifying as it had been during the battle, but brought a sense of peace.

Moments later, a few figures in silver-white armor, bearing the Celestial Accord's emblem, quickly emerged from the ruined corridors' shadows. Perhaps Mythris had come here alone first to protect Henry's group, preventing a tragedy from happening, and only now were his elite subordinates able to catch up and be present at the scene.

They didn't say a word, only rushing to Danz and Halb, who were the most severely injured, carefully checking their wounds and beginning to provide emergency first aid with specially medicated bandages and high-level healing spells.

Danz, despite having lost a lot of blood and likely having a few broken ribs from the Undead attacks, managed a forced smile at Henry, a crooked smile that held a deep sense of gratitude. Halb had passed out at some point, but his breathing was still weak and steady.

Mythris waved his hand, gesturing for his subordinates to continue caring for Henry's two comrades. He led Henry to his private command camp, where a barrier had been set up to isolate them from the outside world.

Their conversation didn't take place in booming voices but through spiritual notions, a special form of communication reserved for those with a high level of aether control. This method ensured absolute privacy, and information was conveyed accurately and quickly in the midst of the chaos.

"You are Henry?" Mythris's notion went straight into Henry's mind, without a specific tone, but clear and full of authority.

Henry tried to stand up straight, even though his knees were on the verge of giving out from exhaustion and pain. "Yes, sir. I am Henry, an investigator of the Aerion Central Investigation Bureau." He tried to keep his spiritual voice from trembling, showing respect for the Demigod standing before him.

"I am Mythris," the Demigod's notion continued, carrying an undeniable confirmation. "I am a member of the Sanctuary Enclave. And I have come here on a special directive from the leaders of the Enclave, to ensure your safety." Henry had vaguely guessed this after his conversation with Will, but the confirmation still surprised him. A member of the Sanctuary Enclave, a Rank 7 Demigod, truly existed. They were not just legends or rumors; they were directly interfering in his destiny.

Mythris paused for a moment, as if to give Henry enough time to process the next piece of information. "You must understand the current situation. But you should also know one thing: Beleth has not appeared publicly in Tehra for over a decade. Everything you, or anyone else, has faced until today has only been avatar, puppets he created with different levels of power. Destroying Beleth's main body right now is an almost impossible task."

Mythris's words struck Henry, crushing the small hope that had just been kindled. Avatar? The ones who had committed countless atrocities, killed so many innocent people, and pushed him and his comrades into life-and-death battles were just puppets controlled from a distance? How much more monstrous was the real Beleth?

"What should I do, sir?" Henry asked, a vague sense of helplessness beginning to creep into his thoughts. "If even a Demigod like you can't destroy him, what can a small Rank 3 like me do?"

Mythris was silent for a moment, as if contemplating something important. "For the next year, according to the treaty between the Celestial Accord and Zephyros, I will be here. During that time, I'll personally guarantee your absolute safety from Beleth or any other hostile forces. But when this treaty ends, I will have to leave. At that time, you will have to find your own way to deal with him." Henry felt a heavy burden of responsibility.

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He had only one short year to survive and increase his strength before he had to face the legendary Necrofear alone. This was not a challenge; it was an almost insurmountable one.

"But why does the Sanctuary Enclave care so much about me?" Henry asked, trying to find a reason, a clear purpose for all the strange things happening to him, for the special favor that a mysterious and powerful organization like the Enclave was giving to an unknown person like him. "Even if I have a high potential of Rank 5, I am still weak in the eyes of Demigods. Is it really worth so much effort?"

Mythris looked at Henry, and this time, in his notion, Henry could feel a complexity, a contradiction, and a slight hesitation. "Every official member of the Sanctuary Enclave is an important figure in their time. And you, who possess both Mystic Sense and the Sanctuary Seal, will be a crucial variable in the future, one that even the members of the Enclave have yet to foresee. Your existence and development could influence the major events about to happen across all of Tehra."

Henry shook his head, a bitter smile on his face. "The greatness of the Sanctuary Enclave, the protection of the world, all of that is too far removed from me, sir. I have never thought of myself as an important person, or a hero, or someone who could influence all of Tehra."

His voice softened, holding a simple but luxurious desire. "I just want to live a peaceful life with the woman I love. That's all."

Mythris was silent for a moment. He seemed to understand the young man's feelings. "I understand your sentiment. It is illogical to suddenly be given a great responsibility that seems to have no connection to you."

"But you need to understand," Mythris continued, his voice returning to a serious tone, "your peace is only temporary. You have Beleth, a foe who will never stop hunting your Mystic Sense. But besides that, there are countless other dangers waiting to destroy Tehra. If just one of them spirals out of control, the false peace you are trying to hold onto will also vanish into thin air."

He looked straight into Henry. "You will not be able to have that peaceful life, Henry, if your world ceases to exist."

Mythris paused, as if to let Henry absorb the harsh truth. Then he continued, his voice containing a hint of suggestion. "I understand your confusion and doubts, Henry. You have so many unanswered questions and internal contradictions you can't reconcile. I cannot answer all of them for you right now, because some things you must experience and understand for yourself."

Mythris stopped for a moment, as if waiting for a signal from a distant place. A few seconds later, Mythris continued, his spiritual voice now more certain. "There is another member of the Enclave, someone who has faced even more difficult choices than you. He may be able to give you the answers you are looking for. Or at least, he will give you a different perspective, an understanding of the path the Enclave is on, of the sacrifices and the price that must be paid."

Mythris raised his hand, and the air around him began to ripple strangely. The ancient, complex runes of a spatial displacement spell began to form on a stone slab, emitting a faint blue light.

"I will take you to meet him. But remember, Henry, this is your own choice. What you are about to hear and see may change your view of this world and everything you've ever believed in. Are you truly ready to face that?"

Henry looked at the displacement circle glowing with a faint, mystical light, then at Mythris, who stood there like a perfect sculpture. He didn't know who he was about to meet, didn't know what was waiting for him, and didn't know if he was brave enough to face any more brutal truths.

But he also knew one thing for sure: he couldn't keep running from his destiny, he couldn't keep living in fear and doubt. He needed to find the answers to the questions that tormented his mind. He needed to find his own path, a path that could help him protect the people he loved.

"I am ready." Henry said, his voice holding an unshakeable determination.

Mythris nodded, a flicker of satisfaction in his icy blue eyes. He unfastened the beautiful silver sword, Stormbinder, from his waist and gave it to Henry.

"Take this sword. It is not just a weapon; think of it as your companion on this journey. It will help you in your upcoming meeting, help you communicate with and understand the person you are about to face. And perhaps, it will also be a reminder of what you can achieve in the future, if you are brave enough and persistent enough to walk your own path, the path of the chosen."

Henry was surprised to take the sword from Mythris. It was much heavier than he thought, and as his fingers touched the intricately carved hilt, he could feel a surge of energy within it.

"Be careful."

That was Mythris's last notion before the displacement circle on the ground erupted in a blinding blue light that swallowed Henry's entire body.

When the light faded, Henry found himself standing in a strange place, somewhere he had never seen before. A cold wind blew, bringing snow and a sense of loneliness. Before him was a small, simple village, almost buried in white snow, its dark wooden roofs rising and falling in the vast white sea.

And a little further, at the foot of a stone statue also almost covered in snow, a figure in sharp, black armor sat there silently, a part of the frozen landscape, as if he had been waiting for Henry for a long time.

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