That night, as the voice of the people dominated the assembly and the strength of the five pillars grew stronger, the palace of Gaia was struck by a restlessness sharper than usual. Behind the seemingly solid walls of the Genesis roots, shadows of darkness began to stir. The roaring voices from outside seemed to vibrate through every skull, while the fresh, damp scent of earth enveloped the air, creating a contrast with the tension that hung over the scene. A frightening feeling, like a predatory bird lurking in the darkness, filled the atmosphere.
In the meeting room of the Lauenbrug family, Lord Edwin and several old elites held a secret meeting. The air inside the room felt heavy, as if every word spoken would add to the burden already present. They signed a blood pact, cursing Fitran and the five pillars with angry expressions etched on their faces. A mix of fear and self-interest aligned their motivations. Plans had been laid out: — Kidnap one of the pillars, — Kill the vocal public officials, — Sabotage the spiral generator beneath the city, — And—most dangerously—invite agents from the Earth nation disguised as traveling merchants and sorcerers. In that moment, Lord Edwin felt a surge of dark energy flowing through his body, a call for greater power, vibrating his heartbeat with ambition.
At midnight, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed in the underground corridor. The whirring sound of those steps felt like a prelude to something very dangerous. Two noble sorceresses, aided by a masked Earth agent wielding dark magic, sneaked into the spiral generator room. They were dressed in deep black, every movement following a rhythm that was completely calm yet every inch of their bodies was tense. They chanted a breaking spell, planting black magic stones among the Genesis roots. A faint aroma of sulfur and dark energy wafted through, creating a chilling atmosphere. If that generator collapsed, the entire city's defenses would fall—and Fitran and the main forces would be rendered powerless. In their minds, images of the disaster that would befall the innocent people emerged. But just as the ritual was about to be completed, a soft yet firm voice broke the silence: "You have forgotten, the Genesis roots always listen to voices that are not their own."
Iris Gaia appeared at the doorway, a spiral staff in hand, her eyes glowing emerald. In seconds, the tension crept back, changing everything—her sharp gaze seemed to pierce the soul, while her body stood tall with unwavering confidence. The light from her staff pulsed softly, depicting a magical aura and the power that lay dormant in every movement.
One of the noble sorceresses unleashed a dark magic attack, thick energy and a pungent smell enveloping the air, but the Genesis roots swallowed the wave as if absorbing all the darkness, then ensnared her body with glowing green shackles. A choked scream escaped her lips as the root hooks penetrated her skin. The panicked Earth agent tried to flee, but Iris had already begun to chant a spell with a voice that echoed emptily: "Spiral of Roots, Unveil the Traitor!" Her voice became a magical echo, vibrating the walls of the dark basement. The space around them filled with dancing green light, a spiral symbol binding all the perpetrators with increasing tension. Their masks were torn off, and their identities—some nobles, some foreign agents—were revealed with deep panic evident on their faces. Iris approached, her presence felt ominous, and a cold aura froze all doubts. Her voice was cold and piercing, "You have not only betrayed Gaia. You have also opened the door to destruction that does not choose a nation." Her gaze was sharp, penetrating their souls as if she could read their thoughts. "If the spiral defense falls, the Earth nation will not spare any of you." Her mind drifted to her duties and responsibilities, feeling the weight in her heart grow heavier. The trapped nobles struggled, shouting in panic, "The people are just afraid! They will return to us if you fall!" The sounds of helplessness and panic filled the room, while Iris smiled faintly, yet a resurgence of determination rose within her as she whispered, "I will not fall tonight." Her certainty was like a guiding light in the dark night.
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At the same time, the metallic scent enveloped the corridor, while one of the pillars—Chancellor Darius—was nearly killed in the side corridor of the dining room when an old servant suddenly brandished a poisoned dagger that glimmered in the dim light. In Darius's heart, disbelief enveloped him, as if he had been betrayed by those closest to him. But Iris had implanted detection spells on the entire palace staff; the style of Genesis swirled in a wave of overwhelming energy. Small roots from Genesis emerged from the floor, thick with spirit, holding the assassin's hand in the air with a giant grip and freezing her magic like ice in winter. A commanding voice from Iris greeted Darius, flowing like a calm river, "From this day on, everyone entering the palace will pass through root checks. No more traitors can slip in without Gaia's knowledge." The determination that coalesced stained the tranquility within the palace, as if the battle had begun before the violations escalated.
A small group of Earth agents attempting to infiltrate through the western gate found the ground transformed into a green swamp full of thorns, a foul aroma stinging their noses as if reminding them of the fate that awaited them there. They were trapped in an unimaginable situation, their hearts racing, then ambushed by the Knights of Genesis, whose heavy footsteps and clashing metal sounded as their shields trembled, signaling their arrival. The eyes of the agents were filled with fear and despair as they realized that Iris had anticipated every move of her enemies with precision.
The next morning, news of the failed sabotage, murders, and infiltrations spread throughout the palace like fire racing through a grain barn. The people grew more confident in the power of Genesis and Queen Iris, and their longing for security made them cheer, while the old nobles trembled at the string of failures, their faces pale revealing panic and uncertainty. Some were immediately exiled and declared guilty, emotionally stepping away, while others chose to flee from Gaia, heading to unknown places, avoiding the shadows of destruction that now pursued them. Lord Alaric paid his respects to Iris before the assembly of pillars, his fingers gently clenched as he said, "Today, the roots of Gaia not only saved the city—but also the future of the entire kingdom. With you here, even Fitran will never truly be alone in guarding this world." The expression in his eyes sparkled with newfound hope amidst the chaos.
Iris nodded, her breath heavy, yet her eyes sparkled with light, every corner of her face reflecting stability amid the turmoil. She knew that night, Gaia could still stand because of one decision: There must be no enemies within the house when the storm outside had not yet calmed. The sound of the wind rustling outside the palace seemed to emphasize how right her decision was. And the world would remember—among the Genesis roots, beneath the shadow of the once heavy crown, stood a queen who never slept in the darkness, her eyes shining like stars, holding a hope that would not fade, merging with the mystical power flowing around her, as if the energy of Genesis danced around her, ready to respond to every threat that might approach.
