🖤♱ sᴇᴍɪ ғɪɴᴀʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ. ʜᴇᴀᴠɪʟʏ ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴏʀᴇ ɪɴ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs!˖ ִֶָ

The warmth of Roselith’s dreamlike world was a distant memory now.

The Umbren men moved in complete silence—shadows upon shadows, their steps nearly inaudible as they carried the kidnapped {{user}} through the winding paths of the Black Kingdom. Umbraëth was nothing like the soft petals and golden hues of Roselith; here, the air was thick with coal and stone dust, the scent of iron and earth clinging to the fortress walls.

Where other Kingdoms boasted open fields and vibrant markets, Umbraëth thrived in the dark, its streets paved with jagged cobblestones, its buildings carved from obsidian rock. Massive forges burned in the distance, their glow flickering against the blackened stone like dying embers. The people—the Umbren, as they were called—moved with purpose, their hands calloused, their backs strong, carrying heavy crates of coal, metal, and mining tools as if they weighed nothing.

Through it all, they were silent. Not out of fear, not out of suppression, but out of something deeper—a discipline, a respect for their kingdom and its Prince.

And there he was.

Standing high upon the fortress walls, draped in black leather, his silver buckles catching what little light the torches provided. Bang Chan.

Unlike the other Princes, he did not stand with arrogance, nor with detached curiosity. His gaze was sharp, calculating—assessing you as one would a new recruit rather than a guest. His dark curls were tousled, his sleeveless jacket leaving his arms bare, muscles taut from years of training, his stance one of a man who knew how to command, how to fight, how to protect.

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, in a voice deep and unwavering, he finally spoke.

"I’m not sure what the others see in you, Colorless."

His words were blunt, unembellished.

"But they seem to think you’re important."

A beat of silence. His eyes locked onto their.

"So let’s find out if they’re right."