The Charismatic Charlie Wade

Many years had flown by since Morgana’s last visit to Lucius’s resting place. Though hundreds of years had lapsed, she could still discern the spot where Lucius’s grave had been.

Despite her having obliterated the tombstone and even the graves themselves having been consumed by the relentless passage of time, she had an uncanny knack for locating Lucius’s burial site.

Though she knew his body wasn’t entombed here, Morgana still regarded this place as the closest connection to her older brother.

At that moment, her heart brimmed with sorrow, remorse and a touch of bitterness. Her emotions surged and like an unbidden tide, the events of that fateful year flooded her thoughts.

Initially, Morgana’s rush of affection and impulsive feelings for Lucius, followed by his abrupt disappearance from her view, had led her to believe that he must have been dispatched to Maria with the ring bestowed by their mentor. Thus, she had hastily departed the mountains and embarked on a journey in search of him.

Yet the road from the Mountains was perilous and far-flung and Morgana was still a prime fugitive hunted by the rebel court.

Undaunted, she undertook great trials to reach Diannan, only to find Lucius’s body already missing, consigned to the earth. It was then she learned the grim truth, her older brother, whose cultivation outshone her own, had met his demise by her own hand.

Lucius’s life. Her aim was to seize the Eternal Green Pill that their Master had left in Lucius’s care, along

prowess, even a stab to his heart

wasn’t wholly lacking, enabling him to temporarily stabilize his injuries and progressively recuperate by harnessing his spiritual essence. His wounds would mend and vitality would

she struggled to fathom. Only through persistent questioning did

now beyond her reach, for no matter how she lamented, the dead could not be reclaimed. So resentment seeped in, a belief

rage upon Lucius’s tombstone and even upon Maria’s mother’s, abstaining from returning for years. Her absence wasn’t because she’d moved

vividly I recall our first encounter. Back then, you were thirteen or fourteen and I, a mere twelve or thirteen, yet at that sight, love took root. From that day, I awaited your presence in our home,

learned to bind my hair and wield the sword and spear, practicing ceaselessly. I yearned to stand by your side, to fight at your flank, to assist in your battles. Then, I concluded I’d stand with you for a lifetime. Wherever you ventured, I’d be there; whatever your venture, I’d share it. I’d follow your sword into the rebel ranks or return to the fields, forsaking strife, to stand at your side. Such were my thoughts, such

founded the Warriors Den, I was the third member of the Warriors Den Association. Though you and your sister rejected my inclusion, I remained steadfast, declaring intent to stand alongside you both. I cited patriotism as

this realm for the emperor, I’d march sword in hand against the

Morgana’s tears flowed freely. She set alight the final sheet of yellow paper voice choked, “Brother Lucius, I thought time would sway your heart, but I was blind to the truth, you never loved me. I stood by you from the year of the golden hairpin to your fortieth

From that first gaze to my final strike, all I gave was for you.