THE REAL PROTEGE

Orin Dai's gaze didn't waver.

"We come not with a blade. We come with a warning," she said.

Behind her, three other figures stood in quiet formation — guardians of the Moonwater lineage, tasked not with warfare but with prophecy preservation.

"The forge Enchanted Dale shattered woke threads buried beneath our archives," Orin Dai continued. "Fragments of Pharsa's origin were found in our dream records; it was cast from temple seals and misfiled intentionally. Someone erased her from our ancestral charts centuries ago. But her awakening re-threaded the gap."

Pharsa, now arriving alongside the twins and her husband Chatty, froze.

Chatty tagged Pharsa's sleeves and gave her a comforting nod.

Kim Kim clutched her scroll tighter.

Chin Chin stepped subtly in front of her sister — protective without knowing why.

Ling Li's expression hardened.

"What do these records say?"

Orin Dai unfurled a scroll.

The ink shimmered.

"That the prophecy of the twin seals was never meant for two children born together, but two legacies joined unnaturally. One through blood. One through stolen silence." Orin Dai explained.

All eyes turned to Pharsa, whose chest rose sharply, fingers curling into her sleeves. "Then I was always one of them."

Orin Dai nodded.

"But someone feared your path — and rewrote it."

Shinsei said as he stepped forward upon his arrival.

Shinsei continues. "The twins awakened Pharsa's seal through spirit resonance. Enchanted Dale tried to fake that event — but all he did was reroute the prophecy back into motion."

A pause.

Orin Dai studied the twins. "We offer protection. And insight. The Moonwater archives are open to you now."

Ling Li glanced at Pharsa.

"We don't need protection. But we welcome truth."

Final Reckoning: The Unmaking of Enchanted Dale

The wind over the Moonwater cliffs howled like ancestral warning — high and thin, echoing across sanctified stone. The convergence ritual had just ended, and the archives whispered aloud truths that had once been locked in silence. They came to this cliff to find the fragments of Pharsa's origin that appeared here, according to Orin Dale.

But Enchanted Dale had not fled.

He stood twisted within a ravine of corrupted ether, his robe torn, his sigils leaking. Shadow-bound birds screeched overhead. His last spiritual anchor — a puppet forged from reanimated soul threads — had failed to take root.

He watched the horizon.

And waited.

Within moments, the sky changed.

A storm surged — not from above, but from everywhere.

Ling Li descended first, her aura vast, braiding wind and thunder across the broken terrain. Her eyes blazed cold, no longer tempered.

Pharsa followed, silent, cloaked in elemental light, her spirit steady.

Behind them came Orin Dai of the Moonwater Sect, Shi Min, Ren, Shun, and Four Eyes, with Shinsei, each flanked by emissaries of awakened guardian lines.

Enchanted Dale staggered to his feet, coughing against the air, eyes ringed in fire.

"You want judgment?" he spat, voice brittle. "I tried to protect legacy. To overwrite the weakness in your sacred bloodlines."

Ling Li stepped forward, voice sharper than steel.

"You abused memory. Manipulated echo. You created false names and called them truth."

Pharsa's gaze never wavered.

"You tried to write me out of my own soul."

Enchanted Dale snarled, raising his hand for one final incantation — a rupture spell designed to tear prophecy fibers from the spirit grid.

But Ling Li moved faster.

Her wind struck first, slicing the sigils from Enchanted Dale's arm.

Shi Min followed, casting a flame ward that locked Enchanted Dale's body in heat, preventing escape.

Then Shinsei whispered the final condemnation:

"You have no tether. No truth. Let memory erase what you've become."

Pharsa stepped forward.

She raised her hands.

The wind and flame around her fused.

From her chest rose the re-inscribed seal — the sigil Enchanted Dale tried to rewrite, now whole and invincible.

"You fear what I carry. But it's not wrath. It's will."

She cast it forward.

The seal struck Enchanted Dale mid-chest.

His body froze.

Then cracked — spiritually, cell by cell.

The earth swallowed the fragments of his aura.

His name — once etched in dark archives — flickered into silence.

He didn't scream.

Enchanted Dales' existence is now dissolved forever. He is dead.

And the wind returned.

"Why is he called Enchanted Dale?" Kim Kim curiously asked.

"Because he is handsome, he named himself Enchanted Dale. This is what Master Jirou told me." Shi Min explained.

Kim Kim innocently replied, "Handsome? I think Uncle Mushu is even more handsome than Enchanted Dale!" while rubbing her chin.

Everyone was amused except her father, Four Eyes. Kim Kim didn't realize that Mushu's score had just fallen significantly in his father's eyes.

Mushu, who was in Myanmar, sneezed. 'Damn! Who is cursing me?!'

Aftermath: Memory Resealed

Ling Li placed a thread of talisman across the cliffs, sealing the site from future use.

Pharsa stood still, breathing deeply, gaze on the horizon.

Shinsei approached her quietly.

"He's truly gone," he said. "And your seal... holds."

Pharsa nodded.

Then, softly:

"Let the next chapter begin."

From above, the clouds parted.

And somewhere behind them, the twins sketched their first prophecy glyph without trembling.

The Archive of Echoes: Opening the Sealed Prophecy

Nestled within the core of the Moonwater Sect, the hidden archive was carved into living stone, veined with whispering light and sealed by ancestral dialect. The chamber hadn't been opened in centuries — not because it was forgotten, but because it chose silence.

Ling Li, Pharsa, Shinsei, and the twins stood at its threshold, flanked by Orin Dai and three archive sentinels. Each carried an orb bound with truth-thread — capable of revealing memory only if inherited resonance aligned. At the same time, the rest waited for them outside.

The entrance responded to the twins first.

Their dragon sigils pulsed faintly.

The stone door opened.

Inside, scrolls floated midair, orbiting around a central altar of wind-soaked glass. Runes shimmered beneath the floor — one name flashed repeatedly, distorted, obscured… then corrected.

Pharsa.

Not erased.

Repressed. Sealed. Feared.

Kim Kim walked carefully to the altar and pointed.

"That's your true name, isn't it?"

Pharsa nodded. Her voice barely rose above the ancestral hum.

"It always was."