The next morning, across the Human Continent...
Just as the sun pierced through the clouds, casting golden rays over cities and strongholds, a sudden, radiant window materialized in front of every guest who had been invited to the Old Continent.
---
[The Merciless Clan has completed the mission with an S score and secured the top rank on the ranking list for all seven paths.]
---
Gasps echoed through plazas, royal courts, and hidden chambers alike. Confusion spread like wildfire. No one fully understood the weight behind the message—what it truly meant to conquer the old continent's trail or how difficult an S score was to attain.
Yet one truth was universally understood:
The Merciless Clan had survived.
They had entered the fracture... and they were still alive.
Iskar City...
Having returned from the trial, Fray, Elisa, Casper, and Adam stood silently on the balcony of the Dalma mansion. The morning breeze carried the scent of fresh rain, and above them, the sky shimmered with a fading silver hue as the last remnants of the fractures slowly sealed shut.
Then, without warning, several glowing windows appeared before their eyes:
[The Old Continent has been closed.]
[The next opening will be after 16 days.]
"Two weeks... finally, some time to rest," Adam muttered, his voice weary yet filled with relief. In the Old Continent, rest was rare; over the course of nine brutal days, they had only managed to sleep three times.
Casper stretched his arms and let out a soft chuckle. "Honestly, I don't even feel tired. I could go back in right now."
Fray nodded slightly. "That's normal. When we return, the body recovers—wounds, exhaustion, all of it. But the mind doesn't heal so easily. Mental fatigue still needs time."
He turned toward the others, his tone shifting. "Adam, Casper, go rest. You've earned it. Elisa and I... we have something else to take care of."
"Why?" Casper asked, puzzled.
Elisa answered before Fray could. "The head of the family will likely summon us soon. He'll want to discuss what happened, and more importantly, what comes next. We have to be there when that meeting happens."
Casper frowned but nodded. "Of course. Just don't let them send you back in without us."
....
Later that morning, Fray sat at the breakfast table, barely halfway through his meal when a servant rushed in, bowing respectfully.
"You're summoned to the grand hall. The family meeting is about to begin."
Fray wiped his hands clean, stood up, and left the dining room without a word.
The grand hall of the Dalma mansion was lined with tall arched windows that flooded the room with light, casting long shadows on the polished marble floor. At the far end sat a majestic throne carved from dark oak, elevated above the rest of the chamber.
Fray stepped through the towering doors, which creaked open slowly. Inside, eight of his siblings were already lined up in two neat rows, facing the throne. His eyes were drawn to two figures standing at the head of each group.
On the right stood Oliver, the firstborn. His dark hair was neatly combed, and his suit was perfectly tailored. A small scar on his cheek hinted at past battles, but his sharp gaze and confident posture showed he was a man of experience and control.
Opposite him stood Rafael, the youngest. He wore a vibrant, modern outfit that somehow still carried an air of tradition. His warm smile and calm eyes gave off a kind charm, but the confidence in his posture showed he wasn't to be underestimated.
Fray walked calmly to his place and noticed Erma, his older sister, standing near Rafael. She shot him a glare full of cold resentment.
"Hey, Erma," Fray said casually.
She didn't answer. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she turned away.
Fray didn't care as he calmly took his place in silence. A moment later, Elisa entered and stood opposite him.
'Only ten now...' Fray thought as he scanned the room. 'Last time I was here, there were fourteen.'
He didn't need anyone to explain what had happened. In the Dalma family, power ruled, and weakness was erased. Over the years, siblings had vanished—some quietly, some violently. It was survival of the fittest.
Then—
CLACK!
The doors opened again, this time revealing the head of the Dalma family.
Irno Dalma, the head of the family, in his early fifties, his presence still radiated raw power and rigid discipline. He had a square jaw shaded by a neatly trimmed beard, and his sharp cheekbones and piercing dark eyes gave him the look of a man who never missed a detail.
His dark hair, streaked with silver at the temples, was combed back with precise care. Not a strand was out of place. His clothing matched his nature: a formal suit made from fine black velvet, trimmed with red and silver thread, and a golden sigil of the Dalma family pressed against his chest like a mark of law.
He entered, walking between two figures—Montaser, the old family butler with his usual calm presence, and Sir Aric, the knight commander, clad in black armor that echoed with every step. Aric's sharp dark eyes and square jaw matched his disciplined posture.
Irno's cold eyes swept the hall. He wore a formal robe, dark and regal, and his beard was trimmed to perfection. His muscular frame was imposing despite his average height.
He walked to the throne and sat without a word.
A silence settled over the hall.
Finally, Irno's deep voice broke it.
"We have much to do, so let's get to it." He leaned slightly forward, his gaze sharp. "By now, you've all heard what happened yesterday. The council met last night and agreed—it's time for the family to take action. The Old Continent holds something… important. We don't know what yet. But the return of the so-called 'Merciless Clan' proves it's not just a place of death. It's a place of opportunity."
He paused, scanning their faces.
"We'll send a team of our elite knights in the next opening. But I'm also giving you—my children—the right to form your own squads. Either join the family's official team or create your own and explore independently."
The air in the room shifted, tension rising like a storm cloud. Irno leaned back, resting his hands on the arms of the throne.
"Decide carefully."
A brief silence.
Then Oliver raised his hand, eyes unwavering. "I'll form my own team."
"I will too," Rafael followed quickly, flashing a confident smile.
Fray raised his hand next. "Count me in."
That caught everyone off guard. His siblings turned, stunned that the silent outcast had stepped forward.
The head of the family narrowed his eyes. "Who will join your teams?"
Oliver's row quickly rallied behind him. "I'll join Oliver," said a tall man named Liam. The others nodded, echoing the choice.
Erma stepped forward. "I'll join Rafael, Patriarch."
The rest of Rafael's row followed without hesitation.
But when eyes turned to Fray, silence followed. None moved. Not one voice backed him. Erma gave him a smug glance and mouthed, I told you… you're alone.
Fray didn't flinch.
The family head turned to Elisa. "And you?"
This was the moment. Everyone knew Elisa's choice would change everything. If she joined Oliver or Rafael, it would tilt the power in their favor.
'Elisa will join the family's team,' Rafael thought bitterly. 'She always does.'
But then she spoke.
"I'll join Fray."
The words hit like a thunderclap. The entire hall went still.
Even the family head raised an eyebrow.
Sir Aric looked confused. Montaser, however, gave the faintest smile.
Irno nodded slowly. "You'll need two more members before the next opening. You have sixteen days."
"Understood, Patriarch," Fray replied calmly.
Irno gave one final command. "All of you may keep the rewards you find, but report your findings to the family. Learn what you can about the Merciless Clan. Dismissed."