CHAPTER 86: THE WHITE THAT SWALLOWED LIGHT

[Unknown White Realm—Leif’s POV]

Everything was white.

Not the kind of white that comes with light—but the kind that swallows it whole. I wasn’t falling. I wasn’t standing either. I simply... was.

Somewhere, in that endless silence, a faint echo rippled through the air—like a whisper brushing the edge of my mind.

"Renji Takeda..."

My stomach twisted at the sound of that name. It had been months—years, maybe—since I’d heard it spoken aloud. Yet here, in this hollow nothingness, it sounded clearer than ever.

"Who...?" I turned, scanning the empty void. My voice sounded small, even to myself.

That’s when I saw it—a cat. A perfectly ordinary cat. Well, ordinary if you ignored the fact that its fur shimmered faintly like starlight and its eyes glowed an unsettling green.

It padded closer with a slow, deliberate grace, tail swishing like it owned the place.

I squinted at it. "Wait a second... I’ve seen you somewhere before."

The cat tilted its head, almost smugly.

Then it hit me. "Oh. You’re that cat I saw before dying!" I blurted out. "The one hissed back at me."

The cat stopped. Then—before I could blink—it shifted.

Its form rippled like water, stretching and twisting until I was suddenly staring at the same old woman I’d seen that day on the street—the one who had called out to me.

My mouth fell open. "Wha—How—WHAT—?!"

She took a step forward. I immediately took one back. She stepped again. I matched her retreat. It turned into a ridiculous little dance of horror.

"Stop coming closer!" I warned, holding up a hand like that would somehow stop a shapeshifting ghost lady.

She just smiled, her eyes crinkling with eerie amusement. "Ohoho... my child, are you frightened?"

"Of course I’m frightened!" I spluttered. "You just turned from a cat into a grandma right in front of me! That’s not normal!"

Her laughter was soft and knowing. "Don’t worry, Renji. I’m not a ghost. I’m here to calm you."

"Calm me?" I repeated flatly.

She then glanced toward my chest, eyes glowing faintly. "Yes...and I think it’s already calm and I had to come since his final request was to keep you safe."

That made me pause. "His?" I frowned. "Who?"

Her smile was gentle, but there was something ancient in it. "That... I cannot tell you."

. . .

. . .

I stared, dumbfounded. "Then why even bring it up?! You can’t just drop cryptic hints like that and walk away!"

She chuckled again, clearly entertained. "You always were the curious one." Then, with a soft gesture, she held out her palm.

Resting on it was a glowing marble—the same red one that had once been black.

I blinked, taking it hesitantly. "Oh...it’s the same marble that turned red after my blood fell on it."

"Yes and Keep it safe, my child," she said, her voice suddenly low and powerful. "It is not merely a trinket. It is a key... and a chain."

A chill crawled down my spine. "A key to what? A chain for whom?"

Her eyes softened as she reached out, brushing her fingers briefly against my cheek. "You’ll know when the time comes."

I opened my mouth to protest. "That’s not helpful, Grandma!"

But she only smiled—that same maddening, knowing smile that made my stomach twist with unease.

"It was the only way to control the devil, Renji," she said softly. "And now, I am giving this back to you."

Her frail hand lifted, the crimson marble glimmering between her fingers like a living ember.

"Keep it safe, my child," she whispered. "And I hope... you do what he could not. And never suffer the pain he went through."

I blinked, her words sinking into the silence between us.

She kept mentioning someone—always "he."And each time she did, I saw it—a flicker of sorrow in her eyes, deep and ancient, as though the memory of that person still ached inside her.

Who is "he"?

And why would she look at me like that—like she was seeing a ghost through my face?

Could it be... the real Leif Thorenvald?

She smiled softly again, her voice echoing like a fading lullaby."Now it’s time for you to return, my child. Your partner... is on his way. And if you don’t wake soon," she added with a wistful chuckle, "he just might unleash both heaven and hell to bring you back."

"Partner—? You mean Alvar?"

Before I could take a step forward, she suddenly placed both hands on my shoulders—and pushed. The world tilted violently, the white cracking open into blinding gold light.

"Wait—hold on, Grandma! You mentioned the devil. What do you mean by that? and Who even are you—?!"

Her final words echoed as everything dissolved into brightness.

"The marble, my child... keep it safe."

The light fractured into gold—and I fell.

***

[Frojnholm—Leif’s Chamber]

My eyes fluttered open to chaos. A sharp, commanding voice pierced through my foggy mind.

"DO SOMETHING, ERYNDOR... OR ELSE I WILL END THE ENTIRE ELVES’ CLAN OF YOURS!"

Alvar’s voice. Furious. Terrifying. My head throbbed with the intensity of it.

A second voice, calmer but strained, responded: "Grand Duke, we cannot heal the divine... Even if you destroy our clan, we must wait."

The words blurred together. My vision swam. Pain hammered in my temples. I tried to speak, but my throat was raw and dry, as if the world had stolen my voice.

Suddenly, something light and warm landed on my chest.

"Master—you woke up!"

Zephyy’s tiny voice, trembling with relief, barely registered over the roar in my ears. I tried to answer, croak out something, anything, but all that came out was a hoarse rasp.

When my vision cleared, I saw the scene before me:

Alvar, towering and imposing, had Eryndor pinned against the wall by his collar, his jaw tight, his eyes storming with an anger that could freeze oceans.

I croaked weakly, "W... what...are...you doing...?"

Both men froze. Eryndor’s eyes widened, Alvar’s glare momentarily softening as his attention snapped to me.

"Leif..." Alvar’s voice was low, tight with restrained fury.

I swallowed, voice hoarse. "W—what... are you..."

Eryndor, finally released from Alvar’s grip, muttered, "Let me check his pulse..."

I watched him kneel, gently placing fingers on my wrist. And then... my attention snapped to Alvar.

The Grand Duke. The cold, merciless, untouchable Alvar.

He had frozen mid-step, his usual controlled composure shattered. His eyes—sharp, piercing, impossibly exhausted—locked onto me. Not with anger. Not with calculation. But with something more dangerous: awe. Recognition. Fear. Desire.

He stared like I was some impossible dream. And in that moment, I felt it—the weight of his gaze, heavy and all-consuming, settling around me like armor... or chains.

"Alvar..." I croaked again, my voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. He simply kept staring, a tempest of emotions hiding behind those red-tinged irises. His fists clenched at his sides, trembling slightly with the force of it, and yet... he remained still, as if afraid that any motion might shatter the fragile thread connecting us.

Eryndor let out a quiet, relieved sigh. "He’s stable now... all good."

Then his gaze shifted to Alvar. "Please... take care of him. I’ll inform the others."

Alvar inclined his head silently, eyes still fixed on me with that impossible mix of intensity and something dangerously soft. Without a word, he reached down and scooped Zephyy from my stomach.

"Let’s go, Dragon..."

Dragon? My thoughts froze mid-beat. How did Eryndor know Zephyy was a dragon? But before I could chase that question, Alvar’s hand was on my back, steadying me.

"Here," he murmured, his voice low and roughened by the emotion he refused to release. "Sit. Let me help you."

I blinked up at him. His eyes... still red, still burning, but softer now. He held a glass of water, offering it with a gentleness that made my chest ache.

"Drink... slowly, okay?" he instructed, his thumb brushing lightly against the back of my hand in a subtle, grounding gesture.

I nodded, hoarse, shaking slightly from both exhaustion and the lingering terror. My fingers curled around his, gripping tightly as I brought the glass to my lips. The cool water slid down my throat, soothing the dryness, yet doing nothing to ease the fire in my chest that his gaze ignited.

Then his hands came up, cupping my cheeks with a warmth that made my knees weak. His eyes—red, fierce, unyielding—locked onto mine.

"You scared me, Leif," he murmured, voice low and rough. "You scared me so much... You are not allowed to leave me like that again."

I rubbed my face over his hands, feeling the steady warmth and the reassuring strength. "I...am sorry for scaring you."

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead.

"These two days..." he whispered, his voice almost breaking. "It felt like my world had been set aflame and reduced to ashes."

. . .

I blinked at him. "Two days?"

He nodded, his thumb brushing lightly across my cheek. "Yes. You were unconscious... for two whole days."

"... Excuse me?"

I finally noticed where I was—Frojnholm and somehow, Eryndor knew Zephyy was a dragon.

Something had happened while I was unconscious. Something that changed everything. And deep down, I knew—whatever the truth was, it would shake me to my core.