Re-Awakened: Echelon Supreme

When Noyan found himself ensnared in a life-and-death crisis across the river, Lady Naran's demeanor underwent a chilling transformation. She radiated a cold, oppressive aura, as if she were confronting an ancient foe. The sun had risen, banishing the night's darkness, but the mist lingered, not fully dispersed, as if clinging to the secrets of the night.

In this atmospheric ambiguity, Lady Naran stood solitary, her beauty echoing that of a celestial fairy. With her fists clenched behind her back, her face was an unreadable canvas, her eyes sharp, scanning the remnants of the night.

After Noyan had ventured beyond the river, Lady Naran's expression darkened, her senses alerting her to an unseen presence lurking nearby. She was oblivious to who this might be, spying on her from the shadows, and while fear did not grip her, her nerves were stretched to their limits, her mind racing with the possibilities of danger.

Lady Naran was on high alert, her instincts screaming caution. She did not know the intentions of this spectral watcher, but what shocked her more was the realization that she had only detected this individual because they were momentarily distracted by the sight of Greenglow in a glass vial—a reaction that would disarm anyone. This insight made it clear; the person spying on her was no ordinary adversary but one of formidable skill, necessitating she keep her guard up.

Amidst her vigilance, Lady Naran began to strategize her next moves. The Ulaan Tribe had enemies aplenty, and she couldn't discern if this was an assassin sent by one of their many adversaries or something else entirely. It wouldn't have been surprising if some warlord, envying her famed beauty in the Sumerû Plains, sought to capture her.

Raising her eyebrows in a mix of defiance and readiness, Lady Naran unsheathed her dagger, the metal gleaming faintly in the nascent sunlight. Once, she had been a helpless child, but those days were long behind her. Now, she was a force to be reckoned with, and those who dared to underestimate her had long since perished, their bodies lost to the winds of time.

With no response from the shadows, impatience began to seep into Lady Naran's demeanor. Suddenly, a smile graced her lips, a facade of friendliness, "Friend, why hide? There's no point in this game now, is there? Have you come to claim my life? Now that I've discovered you, why not make your move while my protector is away?"

A moment of silence followed her words, but there was no sign of acknowledgment. Her alarm intensified, yet her smile persisted, growing even more inviting, a calculated warmth.

"You know, it's rather impolite to keep a lady waiting. Why not step out so we can converse like civilized beings? My bodyguard might return at any moment." Her voice was calm, yet beneath it, there was a steely edge as she played with her hair, an act of feigned nonchalance to draw out her observer.

Lady Naran's strategy was clear; she wanted to lure the person out. Despite holding a dagger, any seasoned warrior would note her lack of skill with it, making disarming her a trivial task. By appearing friendly and vulnerable, she hoped to discern if this was merely a pervert drawn by her allure or something far more sinister.

Yet, there was no sense of lethal intent emanating from the shadows, which only added to her confusion. If not here to kill or to speak, what was their aim? Could she be misreading the situation entirely?

Silence stretched between them until the morning light began to chase away the mist, the world around them coming to life with the dawn's promise.

Then, perhaps driven by the fear of Noyan's return, the hidden figure chose to reveal themselves. The foliage rustled with the wind, and before Lady Naran, a silhouette began to take form amidst the dense greenery.

Though she had faced countless dangers, Lady Naran felt an inexplicable unease, her heart clenching with a foreboding sense of recognition. As she watched, holding her breath, the figure called out in a voice thick with emotion, "Lilia..."

The mention of that name at such an unexpected moment left Lady Naran breathless, her body trembling with shock. Her pupils dilated into points of astonishment, unable to voice the tumult within her. She stood in a strange daze, old memories flooding back like a relentless tide, each one laced with pain and regret.

Blond, flowing hair, a face carved with handsome precision, and eyes that held the weight of time and nostalgia—this was the man who now stood before her. "Lilia... It's me... Do you... Do you remember me still?" His voice trembled with a mixture of joy and sorrow.

Lady Naran closed her eyes, recognition dawning upon her. Of course, she knew him; how could she forget? Ronan. A wave of inferiority washed over her, realizing he might be aware of her current life, stirring the bitter dregs of her past she had tried so hard to bury. "Why? Why are you here, Ronan?" she asked, her voice cold, a stark contrast to the storm of feelings inside her.

Ronan seemed oblivious to the frost in her voice, his own eyes brimming with tears. "Lilia... My love... Do you know? I've been searching... Searching for you for the last ten years! I finally found you..."

Lady Naran did not respond at first, her expression as cold as ice, seemingly having moved past the initial shock.

"Lilia... How have you been?" Ronan asked, his voice breaking through his happiness.

Her reaction was one of delay, but then a surge of anger ignited in her eyes. The dam that had held back her emotions shattered, "Ronan Ashford! How dare you! How dare you ask me this? Where were you when I was being hunted like a dog? Why... Why did you only come now?" Her fists clenched, tears streaming down her face.

"Lilia... Listen to me..." Ronan started, his eyes lowered in an abyss of guilt, but Lady Naran, overwhelmed by fury, cut him off, "Enough! There's no need to explain... I don't need it! Just go away... Ronan. I don't want to see your face ever again!"

Ronan felt as if his heart was being stabbed repeatedly, his own tears now mingling with his pain. "Lilia-"

"I no longer carry that name, my name is Naran Ulaan," she corrected him coldly. Ronan grimaced in agony, offering a bitter smile, "N- Naran... Please... Just listen to me.. okay? Give me one chance, okay?"

Lady Naran remained silent, her silence misinterpreted by Ronan as consent to continue. "I know that great injustice was done to you and... Your family. The Tower has already made the Crown Prince lose his position, he is no longer the Crown Prince. I'm sorry... I could not save you... Everything happened too fast. When I became aware of what was going on, it was too late. I don't expect you to forgive me... But please... Na- no, Lilia... Please come back with me to home. You should not be in this rotten place..."

Hearing this, Lady Naran sneered mockingly, "Home? What Home? My home was uprooted that day... Where was the Tower then? No one came to help... Even my Master who was like a father to me, did not come forward. Ha! It was my fault, I shouldn't have had any expectations. Ronan, I longer have a Home. Just like the people of this land, I am just a nomad."

Ronan was visibly pained by her words, yet he gathered his resolve. Raising his arms, he spoke with determination, "That's not true! I am here for you! Please... Just come with me."

"Tell me, how long were you watching?" Lady Naran looked deeply into Ronan's eyes. "And how exactly did you find me? How many know of this?" Her question was laced with an icy calm.

"I found your traces only recently through rumors. I was at the camp of Urun Khan—where I heard these rumors, It was just a hunch, but I thought the rumors matched your appearance. But I could not find a way to contact you. That is, until today. I have been watching the entire time. This time, I came here alone so trust me, no one other than me knows that you're here and still alive." His answer was honest, his eyes never leaving hers.

Lady Naran's gaze hardened, then she smiled bitterly, "Then... You should know, right?" She looked into her past lover's eyes and spoke clearly, "I have two children with Batu, the leader of the Ulaan Tribe."

Hearing this, Ronan's shoulders slumped in defeat. Grinding his teeth in anger, he muttered, "These barbarian savages are all scum... How dare he! That scum dared to do such a thing..."

Lady Naran's expression turned even colder, as if she had shed all her warmth, "Ronan, you have always been so naive! I would never let a man force himself upon me. Can you imagine? I was also a naive heartbroken girl at that time. I wanted to live so badly, I wanted to take revenge! This is the only reason I'm alive. But have you ever considered? A young, helpless girl far far away from her country, stuck in a den of snakes and vipers. How could I have survived in this unforgiving land alone?"

"I would not have lasted for long. So I chose to do what only a woman in trouble can do... I... I exchanged my body, my freedom—for survival. I married Batu of my own accord. I sold myself for survival, the only difference between me and a prostitute is that I could offer him much more than my body, and in exchange, I could afford to make my own demands."

Hearing all this, Ronan realized the depth of the hardships she had endured, his emotions a tempest of pain, respect, and regret.

"Lilia, you only did what needed to be done. I don't blame you at all. Just... Just come with me. I will not let you suffer any longer." His eyes were red with emotion.

Lady Naran felt an overwhelming exhaustion, disappointment seeping into her soul. She thought bitterly, 'All these men are the same. They see nothing beyond their pride and vanity. You will not blame me? What right have you to blame me or not blame me? You were not my husband, not my father. Only a love that could never be realized. Ronan, you still haven't changed. You are still just as disappointing.'

"Don't be foolish, what status can you give me? What about my children? Should I simply be grateful to you forever, Sir Ronan Ashford, an Apostle of The Tower, for showing pity on a woman like me? Furthermore, what will you tell the world? How will you answer their questions? Do you even have the ability?" Her voice was stern, challenging.

Ronan hesitated, feeling he could handle it, yet knowing he needed time. But he couldn't shamelessly ask for more. He had sacrificed so much to find her, yet letting go was not an option. Wasn't it enough that she was alive and well? With this thought, he found a sliver of solace.

Seeing his hesitation, Lady Naran sighed, her eyes resolute. Her heart was heavy with pain, but for her children... she had to endure.

Lady Naran stepped forward, standing before Ronan, her hands meeting his in what would be their final connection. She tiptoed, her lips meeting his in a kiss that held all the tenderness of their past and the finality of their present. There was no resistance, only a shared moment of what could have been.

As they parted, Lady Naran spoke with finality, "I'm happy to have met you. But forget that you ever saw me. Go back, Ronan. This is the final farewell. Don't come back, ever."

Ronan's face was haggard, his eyes dark with reluctance. Things had spiraled far beyond his control or expectations. After so many years, he had found his lost love, but she was no longer the same person.

Realizing that Lady Naran's bodyguard and her son might return soon, Ronan knew he had to accept her decision... for now. In his heart, he swore he would convince her to return with him someday.

Finally, with a reluctant, sad smile, Ronan stepped back and nodded, "Lilia, I'm so glad you are alive. Don't worry, everything will be fine!" Lady Naran simply shook her head, a look of vulnerability and exhaustion on her face, as if she could crumble with the slightest breeze.

Ronan turned to leave but then noticed something that froze him in his tracks—her lips had blackened. Realization dawned upon him like a cold wave, understanding but unable to accept the reality. Suddenly, this young, noble heir coughed out blood, his voice a whisper of pain, "...why?"

Lady Naran's face was streaked with tears, her features ghostly, her lips black, her voice filled with guilt, "You know too much, I imparted secret knowledge to my son, this would not be accepted. I can no longer trust anyone... Not even you... Forgive me, Ronan, my love."

With those final words, Ronan sighed, a mix of happiness and disappointment at being called her love one last time. He wanted to say more, but time was no longer on his side.

Ronan Ashford, a capable and powerful apostle, met his end in the Sumerû Plains, his death a secret, poisoned by the one he loved most.

Lady Naran's heart had grown cold with necessity. Expressionless, she searched Ronan's corpse, taking what she could use. From her cloak, she produced a vial with a sinister purple powder. She closed her eyes, prayed silently, then poured the contents over Ronan's body. Soon, nothing remained of him but a dark patch on the ground, as if something had been burned away, leaving no trace of his existence.