4th Day of the 1st Fire Cycle[1], 2000 g.c.
The temple where the Wolfpak had taken refuge may have looked like a crumbling echo of the ancient site where we'd once found the Evolution Orb, but it had a hidden life all its own. Though time and ruin had worn away its elegance, the air still carried a gentle warmth, perfumed with the scent of sweet bark and damp stone. Vines curled like lazy serpents along the cracked marble walls, and soft moss nestled in the chamber's corners like sleepy animals.
But the strangest, most enchanting part of this forgotten place wasn't the architecture or the lingering hum of dormant mana—it was the fruit trees.
They rose defiantly from the temple floor, their thick roots piercing through the marble like hardened spears, as if the trees themselves had decided the laws of nature no longer applied. Despite only the faintest light creeping in from a small window above, they flourished with vitality. Their canopies shimmered faintly with residual mana particles in the air, and from their branches dangled plump, tangerine-like fruit. The orbs glowed faintly, almost twinkling, as if giggling in sunlight that wasn't even there.
Alex, whose gaze had been magnetized to those trees since the moment he stepped out of his portal, finally gave up the act. The moment my mental voice quieted in his head, he walked toward them with the look of a man on a mission—and a man who was about to get fed.
"Alright. Let's give this a try. [Analyze]!"
The Tengu's eyes flared with azure light as the skill kicked in, a thin veil of mana forming like a dome over his irises. In a blink, his mind was flooded. Pages of ancient classification, chemical composition, magickal breakdowns, dietary compatibility, and several footnotes about its mythological origins hit him all at once like someone had jammed an entire library down his optic nerve. He staggered back slightly, blinking rapidly.
"Arcanum Delight? Neat name for a snack." He shook his head to clear the blur. "Says it's edible, but I can't make out all the rest. Fuck it, we ball."
Feeling confident enough not to die from it, he reached out and plucked one of the bright orbs from its stem. It was warm in his palm, like sunlight had kissed it hours earlier. He brought it to his lips and took a bite.
The reaction was immediate. The citrus taste hit him like a chilled waterfall on a desert trek—sharp, clean, and bursting with life. His eyes widened, and for a second, it looked like he'd forgotten how to breathe.
Then the mana hit.
A rush of chill ran through his veins like a winter wind had ghosted through his soul, followed by a wave of warmth like he'd just stepped into a sun-drenched bath. The bruises on his arms faded, disappearing as if painted over by some invisible healer. The aches in his bones, the fatigue in his legs, even the low grumble of hunger in his belly—gone. He stood taller, brighter, alive.
"Holy shit, that's good!" he shouted, mouth still half-full. "Woah. I feel fan-fucking-tastic!"
He wasted no time. With a giddy grin and a little hop of excitement, Alex began collecting the rest. All 13 fruits on the tree disappeared into his arms like he was stocking up for the apocalypse. His mind raced with thoughts.
"Luda could probably clone this thing. Xi could use it as a base for a new potion."
Money.
He was already envisioning a brand name, bottling options, and logo designs. A capitalistic lightbulb flickered over his head, blinding and gold.
As he sauntered back toward the others with his precious fruity loot, he caught the tail end of a conversation between Artamis, Steez, and Luda. But something was off. The air felt a little heavier. The kind of heaviness you feel in your chest, more than your shoulders.
Steez's tone was tinged with reluctant understanding. "You sure you don't wanna stop by the house first? Mom is gonna miss you. Grandma, too."
Artamis's eyes were soft, but firm. "I've had this planned for years now. Mom and I talked about it the day we left for Goblin Cave. She knows I'm not coming back for a while. I just didn't know how to tell y'all." He hesitated. "Hell, how to tell Xi."
Steez sighed. "Ah, brodie'll be fine. You'll still be connected to the Crest Link, right?"
That's when Artamis hesitated again. The pause said it all.
"Yeah… see, about that," he said quietly. "I'm leaving the Crest Link for a while. I need to truly find out who I am. Without any distractions. No echoes in my head. No tugs on my soul. Just me. So until I return, I'm removing my connection."
Steez nodded slowly, absorbing it with the kind of acceptance only brothers can manage.
"Ahh. I get it. Well, he'll just have to suck it up."
Luda chimed in, more curious than sad. "Any place specific you plan to visit?"
"If Xi is right about the portal out of here," Artamis said, "I'm going to tell it to send me to Xanadu. There's a few ancient Celestial villages I wanna check out."
Luda blinked. "The Motherland. Birthplace of the first Celestials. The Celestians."
Steez tilted his head. "Looking into your father's background?"
"Something like that." Artamis grinned. "But no spoilers. I'll let you know what I find when I return."
Alex stepped up, voice full of both pride and concern. "Damn, fam. I'ma miss you. Safe journey, bro."
Artamis smiled, offering his cousin a heartfelt nod. "You already kno' it, cuzz. Tell Auntie & Unk I'll see them soon."
"Bet that. Oh—take this for the road. You'll thank me later." Alex tossed one of the Arcanum Delights across the room.
Artamis caught the glowing fruit and admired it for a second, his farewell gift wrapped in citrus gold. One by one, he dapped each member up with a fist bump, the kind that spoke volumes in silence. No extra words. Just understanding. Brotherhood.
Then, without another sound, he stepped through the minty green swirl of the portal's mist. Like a ripple in reality, the veil welcomed him, and he vanished.
The younger twin of Kimmi. The perpetual middle child of our clan. The boy who'd been shaped by fire and fate… took his first steps toward discovering who he really was. And I—I wasn't even there to see him off.
Now down to just the three Sonata Core Users, Alex turned and wordlessly tossed a fruit to both Luda and Steez. The rest, he placed carefully in his item bag.
"That fruit? Magic," he told them. "Replenishes MP instantly. Full-body recovery. I recommend duplicating it before y'all go snack-mode."
Luda nodded in appreciation. "Understood." He held the fruit gently, whispered the activation of [Dominus Avaritiae], and duplicated it with a flash of golden magick before taking a bite.
Both he and Steez reacted the same way Alex had—eyes wide, mana flickering around their skin like new armor being polished in real time.
Feeling their second wind rush in, the three of them relaxed for the first time in what felt like ages.
"So what's next?" Luda asked, his voice softer, his aura calmer.
Alex shrugged. "Definitely heading back to Talasi. I gotta show Mom my new look and tell Pops about my scrap with Whitty Huton. We're gonna eat so many sandwiches. Won't be nothing but sandwiches."
Steez laughed. "Yeah, I'm heading back too. Gotta visit Grandma. Been too long since I saw her… or Mom's face."
Luda folded his arms. "Then I shall join you. I need to give Sensei Vericka one last goodbye before I begin my journey back home. I, too, miss the faces of my birth family."
Alex leaned back, stretching his arms. "Think Xi'll make it out in time to see you off?"
Luda raised an eyebrow. "That nigga can teleport. He has no excuse for not visiting, no matter where I am on this damn planet."
Alex burst out laughing. "Haha. True, true."
With the final words spoken, the three of them approached their designated portals. Each one glowed with a different hue, representing the paths they had chosen and the lives they were returning to. Alex's portal shimmered sunrise scarlet, Steez's afternoon cobalt, and Luda's a deep yellow. As they stepped through, the temple behind them faded into silence.
They left Jerrica's Labyrinth more than warriors, but no less survivors and True M-Cees. Hardened by battle. Enlightened by loss. Elevated by purpose.
What they would find upon returning to Gaia would not be the fanfare or celebration they once dreamed of.
No. It would be darker than that.
Much darker.
Meanwhile in Talasi...
The late afternoon skies over Talasi churned like a cauldron of fire and blood. Deep burgundy clouds stretched over the horizon, laced with veins of carmine-colored energy that bled from the heavens like a deity had been wounded. The air grew heavy with spiritons and magitons—dancing, erratic specs of raw elemental magic that flickered like fireflies set ablaze. All of it flowed from one source. Vericka.
No—she was becoming something else.
A rich, creamy white light enveloped her, soft but blinding. It pulsed like a heartbeat, drawing gasps from those watching as her silhouette inside twisted, shifted, and grew calmer, more commanding. Her very presence bent the world around her. The winds picked up in a wild wail, as if screaming at the transformation in their midst. Pebbles and debris floated into the air before being yanked toward her in a swirling spiral.
The wind's howl deepened, shredding the grass and tearing at the terrain beneath her boots, gouging lines in the earth as if the land itself was submitting to her awakening.
None of the Illuminati dared interrupt. They stood frozen, blinking through the storm of mana as they witnessed the impossible.
"Did she all of a sudden get more serious?" Kiranna muttered, her voice laced with an edge of dread.
Beau's calm voice slid in like a blade through silk. "I would not put it past her to 'ave hidden power. My father always said ze Demon Lord was connivin' on ze battlefield."
The light began to dim, collapsing inward like a black hole. But instead of fading, it concentrated, shaping her new form. What stepped from that light wasn't Vericka anymore.
It was something spiritually divine.
A being cloaked in phenomenal, otherworldly mana.
Her wings spread—six in total, divided into three beautiful layers of divine design. Each wing unfurled with a flourish of glowing red and white fairy-like membrane, pulsating with the power of the spiritons weaving through them. Magitons clung to her form like jewels in orbit, embedding themselves into her flesh and garment as if paying tribute. Her familiar vermilion gi had grown, no longer stopping at the hips but flowing into an elegant dress that danced with the wind like a flame given rhythm. Platinum white hair now crowned her head, cut shorter, sharper, rubied at the tips and roots as if dipped in blood and moonlight.
The Full Moon Effect's transformation had begun.
Her eyes, once soft and human, now glowed like gemstones set in a sea of night. One sky blue. One bright green. Both burned with potent mana, sharp enough to make the air hum.
The Prime Realm System's voice echoed into the cosmos, reverberating through mana-space and soul alike:
«Power distribution complete. The contract is placed at 1% to 99%. Creation of [Lady Red: Billie Holiday] was successful. Releasing all protection on Soul Core. The [Soul Binding] is complete.»
Billie gasped.
"I'm alive? What happened?" Her voice, fragile but awakening, cracked through the haze. "Was I not dying?"
She had been. A candle flickering on its last inch of wick. But now she stood restored, reformed.
Yet even in her breath, she felt it.
"I feel a lot of my former power returning..." she thought to herself. "Yet, I also feel my Soul Core slowly breaking. I have maybe less than an hour of life left. And I know just what to do with it."
Across the torn grass, the Illuminati watched the storm of magick energy rise into the air, crimson clouds spiraling upward—like a tornado of divine wrath coiling to heaven. None of them dared move.
"Wh-what now, Lord Beau?" Yoona asked, sweat beading at her brow.
Beau narrowed his eyes, hand resting calmly on the hilt of his weapon. "We end zis. She's on her last leg… do not give in now."
"Yes, sir!" Abdul bellowed, charging his mana. "Smash and return to the dirt—Superior Earth Gem Mana: Crushing Vice!"
Magickal glyphs exploded into place around Billie's position like an earthen trap locking into alignment. His ring blazed orange, converting ambient magitons into dense Earth Mana, which cracked the ground and summoned towering slabs of stone and gravel from the earth. They raced inward like jaws closing to devour her.
Billie's eyes narrowed.
"Soften," she whispered.
Her voice, almost a whisper on the breeze, echoed with power. The very air rippled red.
"[Magick Reconstruction]."
The incoming walls trembled—then transformed.
Not shattered.
Not blocked.
But rewritten.
The crushing stone became cotton. Clouds. Feathers. They flopped to the ground in front of her like tossed pillows, their momentum gone, their threat nullified. The entire attack ended with the sound of something soft landing in a child's nursery.
Billie smiled faintly and scooped up a tuft of fluff.
She whispered again. "[Magick Reconstruction]."
From the cotton, a mana sword was born—one of elegance and sharp memory. A single-edged katana with a gleaming curved blade, modeled unmistakably after the artifact, Mikazuki. The air shimmered around it, as if the weapon itself pulsed with sorrow and song.
"What!? Damnit, what ability is that?!" Abdul shouted.
"Move, boy," Kiranna snapped. "Let me handle it."
But Billie didn't wait.
She flexed her new wings—one swift movement that lifted her effortlessly from the ground.
Mana surged into her sword, the blade glowing red like it had been dipped in blood.
"Crimson Moon Blade: Delta Red."
And she moved.
It was like watching a dancer teleport. Her form disappeared into a streak of crimson, a silent, soaring bolt of death. She reappeared behind the group before they could even flinch.
One smooth motion.
She swung.
Slash.
Blood blossomed.
The blade tore into Kiranna's back, slicing through both armor and flesh. But it didn't stop there—like a ripple in space, the cut multiplied, slashing her three times over in a triangular burst of blood. Kiranna screamed as she was hurled forward, slamming into the earth, skidding like a broken ragdoll.
Billie didn't pause.
She was already moving again—slicing through Yoona's shoulder, sending her spiraling; cutting across Abdul's torso, flipping him into the air like a tossed log. Each strike hit with the weight of a meteor, and each swing left trails of glimmering red mana in the air, burning like wounds in space itself. One by one, the Illuminati were scattered—bloodied, broken, undone.
This…
This was the [Lady Red: Billie Holiday] who once broke nations in two.
It felt like momentum had shifted. The tide was turning red in favor of the Demon Lord's side. Her returning strength breathed life into every movement. She was moving like herself again, like Lady Red.
But… It's never that easy.
You see, the Crimson Moon Blade wasn't just some flashy sword style. It was a desperate, double-edged fury born during the Elven Civil War—created to crush everything in her path with overwhelming power. But the power didn't come free. It fed off her life force like a parasitic flame.
The more she gave herself to the attack…
…the more it took.
And her body—already cracked, already betrayed by time and trauma—couldn't keep up.
"AAGHHHH!"
Billie screamed, crumpling to one knee. Pain like molten steel ripped through her chest, centered at the very place Beau's spear had stabbed her hours before. The old wound flared, glowing a furious red as her nerves rebelled against her will.
Her katana trembled in her hand. She could barely breathe.
Her wings folded in tight. Her knuckles turned white on the sword's grip.
But she didn't fall.
She gritted her teeth—blood dripping from her mouth.
She slammed her boot heel into the ground, anchoring herself.
"Focus," she thought, "we have to end this."
Because Billie wasn't fighting to survive.
She was fighting to protect.
The battle between [Lady Red: Billie Holiday] and the Illuminati had become a violent opera of devastation—each strike a note, each dodge a harmony of life and death. The clash was loud and something more; it sang through the sky, echoing across valleys and forests, even stirring birds from their perches miles away. Billie, despite the fractures in her soul, moved like a ghost caught in a storm—graceful yet wrathful. Her swings left behind trails of red and white mana, like calligraphy painted in midair. Every time her blade met a Celestial's blow, the impact cracked like lightning, flaring in brilliant bursts of multi-colored magick that splashed against the reinforced mana barrier surrounding Talasi.
Talasi's mana barrier groaned as each magickal explosion etched ripples across its surface like stones in a pond. Several spells detonated against it in successive waves—white hot arcs of lightning, meteoric chunks of flaming stone, and slashing waves of pressure-laced wind. The air sizzled and popped with residual magitons, their chaotic nature clawing at the edges of stability. And even though the fight was taking place far from the town's heart, the residents felt it.
Windows rattled. Loose shingles quivered. The ground occasionally shook with such intensity that children burst into tears and elders steadied their steps with trembling hands. One spell in particular—an amplified Lightning Ball—crashed against the barrier with such force that it cracked the air like a whip, sending out a pressurized shockwave that rattled every foundation in Talasi.
In the middle of this tension sat Kimmi Mikazuki.
The porch was quiet. Too quiet. The heat from the mana blasts crept along the wind, curling beneath the wooden slats like a warning. Kimmi sat next to Grandma Fann, her fingers intertwined and trembling slightly, her eyes fixed on the distant glow of battle beyond the town's edge. She hadn't said much in the last hour. She didn't need to. Her worry clung to her like a shawl, heavy and suffocating. She had no idea Vericka was reborn and dying—or that Glynis lay injured, or that Shukaku was already gone.
But she felt something. The world felt wrong. She could sense it in her soul.
Her mind ran through every possible scenario—none of them good. The guilt of just sitting there, watching the sky bleed colors of battle, weighed on her chest like a stone. Every second ticked louder than the last. The idea of having to kill someone still twisted her stomach in knots, but the fear of losing her mother unraveled those knots into a single terrifying thought: Do something.
Fann had been watching her. The elder woman's wrinkled hands moved gently as she folded a square of cloth over her lap. She didn't need mana sense to feel the fire rising in her granddaughter.
"I know you aren't the type to favor war like your brothers," she said softly, her voice rich with wisdom but sharpened by urgency. "But you have Mikazuki blood running in your veins. The desire to protect those you love burns strong in you, baby."
Kimmi didn't answer. Not yet.
Fann looked away from the sky and turned to her. "Go ahead. I'll be fine by myself."
"Are you sure, Grandma?" Kimmi's voice was tight, caught between anxiety and resolve. Her hands were clenched at her sides now.
Fann smiled gently, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yes, baby girl. Go."
That was all Kimmi needed. She leaned down and kissed her grandmother's cheek—a gesture full of silent gratitude and unspoken promises—then turned and sprinted out the door, her boots slapping against the wood, then dirt, then stone. Her braid trailed behind her like a comet's tail as she tore through the winding alleys of Talasi, heading toward the town's mana gate. She didn't stop to breathe. Didn't stop to question.
She was her mother's daughter.
And the battlefield was calling.
Back at the cleared opening of Talasi's entrance, the air was thick with the lingering heat of battle. Deep craters marred the ground like fallen moons, and blood puddled in the uneven grooves of stone and soil. Each one a memory of a spell flung with lethal intent. The fight between [Lady Red: Billie Holiday] and the Illuminati hadn't just scarred the land—it had bruised the air, soured the wind, and pulled the color out of the sky.
Billie Holiday stood in the eye of it all, breathing heavy, her chest rising and falling like ocean swells. Her mana, bright and volatile like ruby lightning, sparked off her body in erratic pulses. She scanned the field, taking stock of every foe, every ally, and every scrap of bloodied dirt under her boots.
Every attack she unleashed should have ended someone. Broken bones. Severed arteries. Cracked skulls. But each time, the Illuminati rebounded, bodies regrowing, wounds knitting back together, pain transmuted into rage. It had to be the pills—they were the only consistent anomaly she could trace. That high-tier Cultivation Regeneration technique mixed with whatever arcane pharmaceuticals they'd taken was giving them temporary immortality. Billie wasn't sure how long the effects would last, but she knew she didn't have much time left in her own reserves.
Among all her opponents, Beau Soleil didn't concern her much. His Solar, Angelic, and Yang-aligned mana made him predictable. It was Kiranna—the Blood Witch—who anchored her concern. The battlefield was soaked with blood, and as long as Vericka's body kept pumping it, Kiranna had all the artillery she needed. Billie had to shut that down.
Then she saw it.
A slip. A fumble in Kiranna's footwork as she twisted to assist Abdul. With Yoona and Abdul still regathering their rhythm, Billie moved.
Beau had just opened his mouth.
"She may be stronger now, but she can't sustain it. Keep—"
Billie dropped between them like divine vengeance, her blade already in motion.
"Crescent Moon Blade: Crescent Slash!"
Her sword glowed with a brilliant vermilion arc, and when it hit, Beau was hurled backward like a ragdoll caught in a hurricane, his boots skipping across the ground for dozens of meters. Dust exploded in his wake.
Billie twisted with the grace of a dancer and the ruthlessness of a butcher. Her eyes locked on Kiranna.
"Crescent Moon Blade: Tidal Wave!"
The air split. Her sword came down like a guillotine backed by the wrath of a sea Aeon. Kiranna tried to block with her staff, but Billie's Combat Art wasn't a simple swing but a collapse of force. The blade crashed through the wood like it was brittle candy, then buried itself in Kiranna's chest. The impact launched the Imp backward with an arc of blood that glistened in the dying sunlight. Her body skipped like a stone across the ground before slamming into a crater wall.
Billie adjusted her stance, ready to end the Witch for good. She could already feel her Soul Core beginning to fracture—it was now or never.
"This is my chance!"
But fate?
Fate had a sick sense of timing.
A thoom echoed out as something slammed into her from the side—a boulder of compressed ice, sculpted like a meteorite. She staggered, biting her teeth as the cold bit through her defenses. Her feet skidded, and her eyes darted to the source.
A new group had arrived.
And they weren't just any humans.
They wore white-cloaked uniforms etched in black and steel blue, with the insignias of the Church of Holy Madness stitched on their upper chests. Their presence exuded authority, and their mana signatures gleamed with blinding purity.
Six of them. All S-Class. With three of them more powerful than the rest.
Januelle stepped forward, sword drawn and shimmering with snowflakes.
"The appearance is a bit different," she said coldly, "but I'll never forget that Mana Signature, Demon Lord Vericka."
Billie narrowed her eyes, blade steady. "Human Paladin, I have no quarrels with you. But if you and your group interfere, I will kill you all."
Januelle didn't flinch. "Save your threats, Demihuman. The Church of Holy Madness has a problem with you and the Devil of Velonica. Say your goodbyes, as today is your last day breathing."
Beau, clutching his bruised ribs, spoke up. "I don't know who you group of paladins are, but if you help me defeat ze Demon Lord, I can pay you for your services."
Januelle sneered. "I'd rather hear your answers to a few questions about your party. But first, I need to deal with her."
Marzia licked her lips. "The Demon Lord's not looking too hot. This'll be a piece of cake."
Jojo scoffed. "No Devil of Velonica around, it seems."
Krystal cocked her head. "Is that really the Demon Lord? I wasn't expecting someone so… pretty."
Billie's gaze swept over them. Her heart sank. Ten enemies now, and only she stood to stop them. Her Soul Core crackled within her, nearing collapse. Her legs were shaking. Her breaths had grown shallow.
For the first time, she felt the cold fingers of despair brush against her chest.
Then—
"Mom!"
A voice broke through the chaos.
"Mom! What happened? Auntie Glynis is hurt. Uncle Shukaku is dead."
Billie turned, heart collapsing into her stomach. Kimmi.
With an intense glow of magitons releasing, she was charging up magickal energy.
"No. Kimmi! Get out of here! It's dangerous!"
Too late. Beau was already moving. His eyes locked on Kimmi, spear glowing with golden-white mana. A flash of light. He lunged.
Billie didn't hesitate.
She blurred forward and intercepted the strike, redirecting the spear with her blade. The clang of magick on magick lit the air in a sonic boom. But that moment of redirection cost her dearly.
Yoona saw her chance.
"Die, Demon Lord."
Twin fan blades slid into Billie's side, piercing through flesh and muscle. Blood sprayed in sickly arcs as Billie screamed and crumpled backward, slamming into Kimmi's arms, leaving trails of crimson on her daughter's clothes.
"Momma!"
Kimmi clutched her mother, trembling, trying to hold her up. But Beau was already repositioning, his spear glowing now with the condensed energy of a colliding planet.
"Meet the sting of light. Art of Soleil: Comet Stab!"
The spear rocketed forward at supersonic speed. Kimmi's thoughts spiraled. Her body froze.
"Damn, I messed up. Big brother… somebody… help!"
The spear closed the gap—
One millimeter away—
Time. Froze.
The world went silent.
Beau's spear hung midair, frozen like a painting. The enemies stood locked in place, caught in the amber of suspended reality.
Then the world shifted.
A blur of cobalt and silver energy appeared in the frozen scene, stepping through like a phantom of vengeance.
It was Steez Mikazuki.
He had heard the battle from miles away. Unable to reach anyone with [Telepathy], he left Luda and Alex to catch up. His body glowed with mana dense enough to ripple the air, silver and sapphire vapors slithering off his skin like smoke off a mist dragon's tongue. His heterochromatic eyes blazed—one eye glowing blue, the other seething amber, both burning with fury.
When time resumed, Billie and Kimmi were no longer there.
Beau's spear sliced through empty air, the momentum exploding the ground behind the failed strike. Dirt and debris flew skyward.
Beau stumbled, eyes wide. "Where did zhey go?"
From behind him, a voice crackled like thunder splitting the heavens.
"You lames are real bold, attacking my clan while I was gone. Don't worry. That's all over now."
Beau turned slowly, his heart sinking.
There stood Steez.
"Come fuck with a real nigga."
His aura surged, two halos of mana bursting around his frame like twin novas. The very air began to quiver under the pressure. Stone cracked beneath his boots. The wind coiled in reverence.
Steez Mikazuki was back.
And he was about to make every single one of them pay.
[End of Chapter]
[1] April on Earth