The Scepter of the Fey Sovereign suddenly began to glow, its radiant light pulsing brighter and brighter. At the same time, the wild, surging energy inside Feylora finally calmed, fading into stillness. "Finally... we’re safe. Thank you," Ethan exhaled deeply, speaking to the scepter in his hand. He was sure now—this thing wasn’t just some fancy artifact. It had a will of its own. Suddenly, the light flared again. A wave of immense, overwhelming power surged out from the scepter, wrapping around Ethan like a living force before sinking into him. The moment it happened, the surrounding fairies gasped in shock—then, one by one, they dropped to one knee before him. "All hail the Sovereign!" "All hail the Sovereign!" "All hail the Sovereign!" The chant echoed through the clearing like a rising tide. "Wait, what?" Ethan blinked, completely thrown off. "What’s going on?" An elderly fairy stepped forward, raising a hand in a calming gesture. "The Fey Sovereign," he said respectfully, "you’ve been chosen by the Scepter of the Fey Sovereign. You’ve avenged us. From this moment on, you are the rightful ruler of the Fey Kingdom. Please, do not refuse this honor." More fairies began to gather, drawn by the light and the energy. They knelt as well, heads bowed in reverence. Then, without warning, Ethan’s mind was flooded with strange symbols—arcane runes and ancient incantations. The words spilled from his lips before he could stop them, and as he spoke, glowing marks appeared on every fairy present. A surge of power swept through the air, rushing into Ethan like a tidal wave. In that instant, every fairy in the kingdom became bound to him. The contract was sealed. Ethan’s heart pounded. He had just inherited an entire army—an army of magical beings. He couldn’t help but grin. "Well then... everyone, you can stand now—" But before he could finish, the ground beneath them began to tremble violently. A deep rumble echoed from below, growing louder by the second. Then, with a flash of emerald light, a short, gleaming green blade shot up from the earth and hovered in the air before him. "What the hell is that?" Ethan asked, eyes wide. The old fairy’s voice trembled with awe. "That... that’s the Blade of the Fey. A legendary artifact. It’s said to only appear when the true Fey Sovereign is born. I always thought it was just a myth... but it’s real. It’s really real!" "The Blade of the Fey?" Ethan repeated. "Yes," the elder nodded solemnly. "My Sovereign, please accept it. Its appearance means it has chosen you. You are the one fate has sent to lead us. Hahaha... incredible." Ethan stepped forward, curiosity and excitement swirling in his chest. He reached out and gripped the blade. The moment his fingers closed around the hilt, a torrent of raw power exploded outward, wrapping around him like a storm. He took a deep breath, lifted the blade, and gave it a light swing. A shockwave tore through the ground, carving a deep trench into the earth. The entire Feywild began to shake. "Holy shit, that’s insane..." Ethan staggered back a step, eyes wide with awe. He hadn’t expected the Blade of the Fey to unleash such raw, devastating power. The energy radiating from it was overwhelming—ancient, primal, and terrifyingly alive. But what really stunned him was what came next. The very air around him—the Primordial Force of this world—began to stir. It flowed toward him like a river drawn to its source, pouring into his body as if it had finally found its rightful master. And then, something even stranger happened. In his mind’s eye, a three-dimensional map of the entire Feywild unfolded—every forest, every river, every mountain and leyline. It was like the whole realm had opened itself to him, offering up its secrets. "This thing’s not just a weapon... it’s a damn artifact," Ethan muttered, gripping the Blade of the Fey tighter. "I wonder which one’s stronger—this, or the Scepter?" As if in response, the blade in his hand began to hum, vibrating with a strange resonance. It was like it was answering a call—something distant, yet deeply familiar. Then, the Scepter of the Fey Sovereign lit up again, glowing in sync with the blade. The two ancient relics pulsed with power, their energies intertwining in midair. Light flared—blinding, radiant—and then slowly merged into a single, massive beam that shot skyward, piercing the heavens and surrounding Ethan in a pillar of light. These weren’t two separate artifacts. They were one—split long ago, now reunited. And only now, fused together, did they reveal their true potential. As the light poured into him, Ethan could feel it—every inch of the Feywild was now connected to him. He could sense the heartbeat of the land, the breath of the forests, the flow of the rivers. Even the Primordial Force in the air bowed to his will. He whispered, almost in disbelief, "So that’s it... these two relics are keys. Only when they’re together can someone unlock the true core of this world." He had become the master of the Feywild. He laughed—deep, triumphant, almost disbelieving. But the moment didn’t last. A sudden, jarring tremor ripped through the air. Ethan’s smile faded as a strange, twisted energy surged from somewhere nearby. It was dark—so dark it made his skin crawl. "What the hell is that?" he muttered, eyes narrowing. He’d encountered dark energy before—hell, he’d even absorbed some of it in the past—but this... this was different. There was something wrong about it. Something that whispered of death. The fairies around him froze. Even the elder fairies went pale, their breathing quickening. "What’s going on?" Ethan asked sharply. "My Sovereign," one of the elders said grimly, "they’re back. The Dark Fairies." "Dark Fairies?" Ethan’s brow furrowed. "Yes," the elder continued, voice tight. "In this world, we Primordial Fairies are not alone. There is another realm—one of shadow and chaos. The Dark Fairies dwell there. They are powerful... more powerful than us in many ways. And they are cruel, bloodthirsty, and utterly without mercy." Ethan’s eyes lit up with interest. "Dark Fairies, huh? Sounds like fun. Let’s go meet them." "...As you command, My Sovereign," the elder said, clearly uneasy. But he didn’t argue. With a deep breath, he rose into the air and shot off toward the edge of the Glimmering Court. "This way, My Sovereign!" The source of thɪs content is novel•fire.net Ethan and the others followed, soaring into the sky. It didn’t take long before they reached the outskirts of the court—and there, hovering in the distance, was a swarm of dark figures. Fairies, yes, but twisted. Their wings were jagged, their auras thick with shadow, and the magic radiating from them was suffocating. "That’s them?" Ethan asked, frowning. The power rolling off them was... intense. More than he’d expected. And at the front of the group— A massive black carriage, pulled by a snarling, obsidian-skinned unicorn with a single glowing red horn, hovered in the air. The energy pouring off it was wild and violent, enough to make Ethan’s heart skip a beat. Another Tier 16 SSS-class monster? He squinted, sizing it up. But even as the tension rose, Ethan didn’t back down. He flew forward, straight toward the Dark Fairies. The carriage stirred. The pressure hit like a tidal wave. A figure inside the carriage began to move. The air grew heavy, the sky dimmed, and the very light seemed to recoil. Muscles rippled beneath dark armor, his presence radiating raw, brutal power. His eyes—cold, merciless—locked onto Ethan, and the killing intent in them was so intense it felt like a blade pressed to the throat.