Third Arc (Fallen Heart) - 296. Anomaly I

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with vibrant hues of orange and pink, the evening descended upon the castle grounds. The last golden rays of sunlight cast long shadows across the courtyard, illuminating the ancient stone walls with a warm, ethereal glow.

One by one, the nobles began to depart from the castle, their silhouettes fading into the gathering darkness. Some chose to return to their homes, eager to reunite with their families and unwind after a long day of deliberations. Others opted to retreat to their lodgings within the castle walls, seeking solace and respite from the chaos of courtly affairs.

A few nobles lingered behind, strolling leisurely through the courtyard or pausing to admire the breathtaking view of the city below.

Yet, despite the serene atmosphere, an undercurrent of anticipation hummed in the air. The nobles' minds buzzed with thoughts of the meeting they had just attended, eager to decipher the cryptic words of their king.

Angel emerged from his study room accompanied by the twins, Cley and Claire. Claire made a beeline for Rose's chambers, eager to catch up with her and share the latest gossip from the court. Her footsteps echoed softly against the stone walls as she made her way through the winding passageways, her heart light with anticipation.

Angel and Cley, on the other hand, decided to head to the training ground. It had been far too long since they had sparred together, and Angel was eager to stretch his muscles and blow off some steam.

Once they reached the training ground, the last vestiges of sunlight bathed the courtyard in a warm, orange glow. The air was crisp and cool.

Angel and Cley wasted no time in donning their training gear and warming up. The rhythmic sound of their footsteps and the clanging of their swords filled the air. For Angel, this training session was not just an opportunity to hone his combat skills, but also a chance to bond with Cley.

Angel swung his sword, Nightmare, repeatedly in the training ground, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at the edges of his consciousness. Each movement felt heavier than usual.

Despite his best efforts to focus solely on his training, Angel couldn't ignore the strange sensation that crept through him each time he gripped Nightmare's hilt. It was as though a chill wind whispered through the air, sending shivers down his spine and causing his skin to prickle with goosebumps.

Several times, Angel was forced to halt his movements abruptly, the unsettling feeling growing stronger with each passing moment. He couldn't shake the sense that something was amiss, as if the very essence of Nightmare itself was rebelling against him.

But as Angel glanced around the training ground, he realized that no one else seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary. Cley, who trained by his side, was entirely focused on his own movements, his brow furrowed in concentration as he practiced his swordsmanship.

The realization only deepened Angel's sense of disquiet. Was he hallucinating? Or perhaps there was something wrong with him, something he couldn't quite comprehend. His mind raced with a thousand questions and doubts.

Angel swung his sword once more, the familiar weight of Nightmare in his hand, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had plagued him since the beginning of his training session. With each movement, he felt the faint stirrings of his dark aura emanating from his hand.

Immediately, Angel halted his movements, his brows furrowing in deep concentration as he studied his hands intently. He didn't speak, his mind racing as he attempted to make sense of the strange phenomenon unfolding before him.

His first instinct was to analyze any changes within himself, particularly in his magic flow. Closing his eyes, Angel focused inward, searching for any signs of disruption or imbalance. He felt the familiar currents of his magic pulsing through him, but there wasn’t any different.

Next, Angel tried to recall if he had eaten anything unusual or consumed any questionable substances that could have triggered such a reaction. He wracked his brain for any sign of anomaly, but his memory yielded no answers, leaving him with only a sense of confusion and frustration.

Frowning deeply, Angel reopened his eyes, his gaze still fixed on his hands as he pondered the implications of what he had experienced. Was this a sign of something more sinister lurking within him, waiting to be unleashed? Or was it simply a trick of the mind, a fleeting illusion born of exhaustion and stress?