The Dread of Damned-Chapter 153: No Change

As the moon rose in the sky and I opened my eyes, a knock echoed through the chamber.

"Your Highness, we must leave for the Covenant of the Elders of Lunar Cycle," Lucian announced.

I remembered.

Without a word, I stepped into the washroom, splashing cool water onto my face. The weight of the night settled over me as I freshened up. Moments later, I opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit corridor.

We descended the grand staircase, and as we reached the ground floor, a royal carriage awaited outside.

I boarded without hesitation. Lucian shut the door behind me, and the carriage lurched forward.

We passed through the Inner Circle, where citizens stood and bowed as we rode past, their faces illuminated by lantern light. Soon, the carriage veered into the Forest of Ever-Dying, its skeletal branches twisting beneath the silver glow of the moon.

A sharp turn. The road narrowed. Then, we arrived.

Lucian opened the door, and I stepped out into the forest, where moonlight seeped through towering trees like liquid silver.

"We are here, Your Highness," he reported.

I nodded, my gaze fixed on the cave before us.

At the entrance stood an elder—one of the three.

He bowed deeply as we approached.

"I greet the Moon Successor," he said.

I dismissed him with a flick of my hand, and he turned to lead us inside.

The cave was vast, like the hollowed heart of a mountain. Its ceiling stretched impossibly high, swallowed by shadows. But darkness was never an issue for the nocturnals.

We walked in silence, the elder guiding us deeper into the cavern. Soon, the tunnel widened into a grand chamber, where six figures awaited.

"Greetings to the Successor," they intoned in unison, bowing.

I recognized two of them from the ceremony. With a wave of my hand, I dismissed their formalities and let my gaze wander.

At the chamber's center lay a hollow in the ceiling—an opening through which moonlight streamed in. But it did not pour like ordinary light. No, it spilled like a living thing, a continuous silver current, thick as mist yet fluid as water. It gathered below in a vast crater, where a pool shimmered in foggy silver hues.

"This is the River Blessed by the Moon," the elder explained.

"We would have received you ourselves, but the river has been unstable. We had no choice but to remain here and stabilize it."

I stepped closer. A strange pull emanated from the water, an invisible force tugging at something deep within me.

"The gift we must present to you is held in this chamber as well," another elder spoke.

The six figures moved toward the center, lifting their hands. A strange incantation filled the air, distorting the space itself. The very air rippled, and then— a vase appeared, suspended in the empty void.

"The vase you were given during the ceremony was a decoy," one of them revealed.

I narrowed my eyes. "So this is the real one?"

"The vase you received was merely a fragment, condensed from the waters of this river," another explained.

"It carries the Moon's blessing," one added. "But this..."—they lifted the vase—"This is the true relic. The reason this river exists."

I stared at the shimmering object, its surface shifting like liquid silver.

"This was left behind by the First Ancestor," an elder declared.

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"The river's ability to absorb moonlight began only after a single drop of this relic was poured into its waters," another said, voice laced with reverence.

"But even the refined water it creates is nowhere near the purity of this relic."

Silence. A tension settled over the room.

Then, one of them hesitated before speaking.

"We are not certain... if you can handle it."

I did not miss the unease in their voices.

"But we have safeguarded this relic ever since the First Ancestor disappeared."

"And we believe the time has come." One of the elders spoke with quiet conviction. "With the increasing danger of the Damned and rising tensions, the power and authority of the First Successor must return to the world."

Their gazes turned toward the object before them, reverence etched into their features.

"We will open the vase now," another elder intoned, as if delivering a cautionary tale.

They closed their eyes and uttered an incantation.

The silver patterns on the vase shimmered, shifting like liquid metal. Slowly, the cap loosened—then, with a soft click, it fell open.

A low hum resonated through the chamber.

The moonlight, once gently spilling into the river, flared. Where before it had been a mist-like presence, now it condensed, thick and luminous, as if transformed into ethereal water.

But instead of flowing down to the river, the light was drawn upward—sucked into the vase.

It was the single brightest and purest beam of moonlight I had ever seen, distilled into absolute perfection.

Beyond the cave, the effect was immediate.

The moonlight outside intensified. It pierced through the towering trees, illuminating the entire mountain-like cavern in a ghostly glow. More and more of its brilliance condensed at the cave's peak, swirling into a focused, celestial beacon.

And then—

A presence.

A gaze fell upon the mountain.

Distant yet ever-present, watching the shifting balance in the Ever-Dying Forest.

Somewhere Else.

Vasen felt it before he saw it.

The shift in the atmosphere. The subtle tremor in the moon's light. His sharp silver eyes flickered toward the mountain in the distance.

"What is happening, Headmaster?" Vasen asked, voice measured.

The Headmaster—ageless, enigmatic—had already turned his gaze toward the unseen force.

"They are finally passing it on," he murmured.

Vasen exhaled. "You tried to reason with them before—to make them act sooner."

The Headmaster's expression did not change. "They said it would only be done after the coronation. Only when they were certain."

His silver eyes withdrew from the unseen vision, settling once more on the documents before him.

"Interesting," he mused.

Vasen frowned. "You don't seem particularly concerned."

"It won't change anything—not yet." The Headmaster's voice was absentminded as if speaking to himself rather than answering.

Vasen hesitated, still gazing at the distance. He could guess the truth of the Headmaster's power after serving him for so long.

He could not see every future—only gaze at the ones that were already set in stone.

And now that the prince was bound to take the relic he could gaze at the results of the action.

Vasen's unease deepened. Then why... no change?

His gaze drifted back to the man before him. The Headmaster, as timeless as the moon itself, had not aged a day. And yet, in this moment, Vasen suddenly felt as though he himself had grown older than the one who sat before him.

The embodiment of the Ageless.