Blackout Ascension: Return of Primordial Heir-Chapter 57: Preparation

After the meet with King, Kairos and his friends returned to the recovery room.

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Luna’s head felt like a cracked cathedral bell. Every time a healer walked past his bed, the soft shuffle of their shoes echoed in his skull like a hammer striking a stone. The bright morning sunlight glimmering through the tall glass windows of the Royal Infirmary was pure torture, so he kept his eyes tightly shut.

"Water," he croaked out, his voice sounded like dry leaves scraping across a rough stone floor.

A cool glass touched his lips. He drank fastly, letting the soothing liquid swept his raw throat.

"Drink slowly, idiot." Soltheia’s voice was soft, but it carried a distinct hint of strict scolding.

Luna opened one eye, wincing at the light. Soltheia sat in the wooden chair beside his hospital bed. She had changed out of her ruined festival dress into a simple blue tunic, but she still looked exhausted. Dark circles swirled her ocean-blue eyes. In her hands, she held a bowl of steaming chicken broth.

"I am not eating that," Luna mumbled, pulling the warm wool blanket up over his chin. "It smells like boiled grass."

"You are going to eat it," Soltheia replied. She scooped a spoonful of broth and blew on it to cool it down. "The High Healers said your mana core is depleted. You tapped into... whatever ancient thing you tapped into on that balcony, it burned your internal reserves to ash. The cosmic energy fried your nervous system. You need real sustenance to rebuild your strength."

"I need sleep."

"You slept for fourteen straight hours." She pushed the wooden spoon closer to his mouth. "Open."

Luna sighed. He was the famed Night Emperor. He commanded gravity and could crush boulders into dust. He had read the minds of shadow assassins just yesterday. But right now, lying in a hospital bed with a magical hangover, he was powerless against a stubborn girl holding a spoon.

He opened his mouth and swallowed the broth. It tasted terribly bland, lacking salt or spice, but he felt a tiny spark of warmth settle into his empty stomach.

"See? Not poison," she smiled gently.

"Highly debatable," he grumbled, looking at her hand resting on the edge of the mattress. Her fingers were trembling slightly. The terrifying reality of last night was still haunting her. Luna reached out from under the blanket and wrapped his pale fingers around hers. "I am sorry for scaring you."

Soltheia stopped stirring the soup. She looked down at their joined hands, her expression softening. "Just promise me you will let the others do the heavy lifting next time. You are far too lazy to play the tragic hero, Luna."

"Deal."

GRRRRHHHHH!!

Across the large recovery room, the quiet peace was shattered by a frustrated groan.

"I am going to peel my own skin off," Ignis announced to the painted ceiling.

The arrogant royal was sitting up on his hospital bed, glaring down at the thick layers of white medical linen wrapped tightly around his torso. He wiggled his fingers, desperately trying to slide his index finger underneath the tight bandages to reach an itch that was driving him insane.

"Stop touching the bandages," Terravarous rumbled from the next bed over. The giant was reading a book titled Strategies of the Northern Campaigns, ignoring his cousin’s dramatic suffering.

"You don’t understand, Terra," Ignis whined, squirming in his sheets. "It itches right in the center of my back. It is pure torture. Usually, I just send a tiny wave of heat across my skin to burn the dead cells away and soothe the itch. But the healers put a dampening seal on my core! I can’t spark a single flame!"

Velanor Banner leaned against the open windowsill on the side of the room, biting a crisp green apple. "That is because you almost roasted yourself alive on a wooden boat yesterday, Ignis. The healers probably think you are a walking fire hazard."

"Shut up, dirt boy," Ignis snapped, twisting his torso, trying to reach over his shoulder, and let out a sharp hiss of pain as his broken ribs moved together.

Terravarous didn’t even look up from his pages. "If you break your ribs again because you were trying to scratch an itch, I will tell Uncle Raezon to demote you to a basic soldier."

"You are all terrible friends," Ignis wheezed, falling back onto his pillows with a sigh. "I saved your lives. I hit a mythical shadow knight with a piece of a tent. I demand a royal back scratcher."

Velanor chuckled, tossing the apple seed out the open window.

Kairos flicked his wrist. A small, highly controlled gust of wind spiraled across the room. It slipped neatly down the back of Ignis’ shirt, scratching the spot on his spine that was bothering him.

Ignis let out a long, dramatic sigh of relief, his eyes rolling back in his head. "Okay. You are slightly less terrible than the giant."

Kairos sat quietly on the edge of his bed, letting the usual banter wash over him. It was good to hear them bickering and throwing insults. It meant things were somewhat normal. They were just teenagers complaining about injuries.

But Kairos did not feel normal. He rested his elbows on his knees, staring down at his bare hands. They were steady now, but the lingering, hollow ache in his chest was a grim reminder of the cost. The System had warned him. Dominion was an absolute power. Stopping the flow of time was the realm of gods, not a teenage boy from a dusty farming village. Using that title without ambient mana in the air had siphoned his life force. He had traded years of his life for ten seconds of frozen time.

He unbuckled the leather scabbard resting on his nightstand and slowly drew Asteria.

The holy sword slid free with a soft ring that usually brought him comfort. The blade was still beautiful. The ancient silver metal gleamed in the morning sunlight streaming through the windows. But as Kairos ran his thumb along the edge, checking the weapon for damage, he stopped.

Right near the upper tip of the blade, there was a tiny, jagged notch. Asteria had chipped.

Kairos stared at the small imperfection, his breath catching in his throat. This sword was supposed to be indestructible. It was a mythical relic forged specifically to banish the dark and a gift of love. But the armor of those Black Mist Knights had been so dense, so heavy with ancient, corrupted magic, that clashing against it had actually damaged a divine weapon.

If the foot soldiers of the Fallen could chip Asteria, what would the Leader of them himself do?

"What are you looking at?" Kairos looked up. Seyana was walking softly across the infirmary floor. She wore a simple white dress today, her ruined crimson gown from the festival discarded. She carried a small woven basket of fresh fruit.

Kairos quickly sheathed Asteria, sliding the sword back onto the nightstand to hide the damage. "Nothing. Just cleaning the ash off the blade."

Seyana stopped in front of his bed. She placed the fruit basket on the small table and looked at him closely. Her eyes missed very little, and she knew his tells by now. "You are a terrible liar, Kairos. But I won’t push you."

She sat down next to him on the edge of the mattress. The space between them was small, and comforting.

"How is the chest?" she asked quietly, her tone shifting to genuine concern.

"It feels like I swallowed a handful of hot coals," Kairos admitted, rubbing his chest where the pain was more. "But the High Healers did a good job. The ache is fading."

Seyana looked down at her hands resting in her lap. "My father officially declared you all Vanguard Generals this morning. He is rallying the standing army in the courtyard right now. He is sending swift messengers to the border lords to lock down the kingdom."

Kairos frowned. "Regular soldiers can’t fight those things, Seyana. Iron spears and steel arrows will just pass right through their mist. Sending normal men to fight shadow phantoms will be a slaughter."

"I know," Seyana whispered, her voice tight, "and my father knows it too. But he is a King. He has to project strength. If the citizens realize we are defenseless against the shadows, panic will destroy Solaris from the inside before the knights even arrives."

Kairos looked over at his friends. Ignis was now trying to bribe Velanor for scratch his back using gold coins. Luna was eating the rest of his soup while Soltheia lectured him about proper nutrition. Terravarous was still silently reading his book.

They were strong. But they were just five kids.

"I relied too heavily on the time-stop," Kairos said, his voice dropping so low only Seyana could hear him. "The System is a crutch. If I keep freezing time every single time we face a real threat, it will drain my life away. I think I will die before the Great War even starts, and the sword... Asteria chipped, Seyana."

Seyana turned to face him. She didn’t offer sweet comforts. She was a royal, trained for leadership, and she knew the brutal stakes as well as he did.

"Then you get stronger," Seyana said firmly, looking into his eyes. "You don’t rely on the magic tricks. You build your own physical strength. You learn their movement patterns. We figure out how to fight them naturally without stopping the clock. You have that so called System, Kairos. I don’t know the details, but before that, you are a swordsman. Do not forget your roots."

Kairos nodded slowly. She was right. He had been so focused on leveling up his special titles and relying on the System’s alerts that he had neglected his combat strength. The Black Mist Knights were just the scouts. If the fallen truly rose from the shadows, Kairos would need raw, physical power to stand against him.

"We are leaving tomorrow," Seyana added, changing the topic to something much more immediate.

Kairos blinked in surprise. "Leaving? Where?"

"Catherine received a magical missive from her father this morning. The Sylphyros Kingdom detected the massive mana vacuum last night across the continent. They are on high alert. Catherine and Soltheia need to return home immediately to secure their borders, and Velanor must go back to the Wind Kingdom to warn his elders."

A heavy weight settled over Kairos’s shoulders. The group was splitting up.

Ever since they survived the Crystal Colosseum, they had faced every danger together. Having them by his side made the impossible odds feel manageable. Now, the world was dividing to prepare for a war that was approaching their doorsteps.

"So it begins," Kairos murmured, staring at the floor.

"It does," Seyana agreed. She reached out and gently rested her warm hand over his hand. "But we are not hiding in the dark anymore. We finally know what is out there."

Across the room, Ignis finally let out a triumphant shout. He had managed to stretch his arm just enough to reach a wooden back scratcher a nurse had carelessly left on a nearby medical cart. "Victory! I am the master of this hospital room!"

Terravarous simply closed his leather book with a loud snap and shook his head in sheer disappointment. "You are an idiot, cousin."

Kairos watched them, a faint smile breaking through his serious thoughts. The Great War was looming over them like a storm cloud. The shadows were gathering their forces on the edges of the continent.

But looking around the bright infirmary at his chaotic, loyal friends, Kairos felt a deep sense of resolve fixed into place.

He would train until his bones ached. He would push his base physical limits until he didn’t need the System to win his battles. Because when the true eclipse finally came, he was going to make sure every single one of these idiots survived the night.