Night.
-
Petra walked through the Tower Spider, floor by floor, heading up to the rooftop garden.
In one hand, she dragged a large body pillow that she had snagged from the second floor. When she reached the rooftop garden, she threw the pillow into the central pavilion, then hopped over the low railing and landed on it, butt first, with a soft 'poof'.
There was a low growl.
The Calamity Wolf lifted its head from where it had been resting, walked over, and quietly circled around Petra before curling up and wrapping its fuzzy body around her.
Petra leaned her head back against its thick white fur and looked up at the sky.
Although the sky was black, the land was black, and the horizon was black, Petra felt perfectly at ease. Perhaps, there was some truth about witches enjoying chaos and destruction. They were surrounded by a black sea of churning waves, and a dark sky filled with swirling death…
But none of it mattered to her.
Petra was… quite happy.
With Lira and Noah's arrival, she now had two more maids to add to her collection. Her current goal was simple, and that was to build a maid harem of fifty beauties.
Was there anything else one needed in life?
With the twelve main girls and the thirty new recruits, that left only eight. Two of those were now taken by Lira and Noah, leaving Petra with only six remaining slots.
She had already thought about how to fill them.
She planned to kidnap one more girl from the Western Region, something like a farewell souvenir, then reserve the last five slots for the seaside beauties that she would undoubtedly encounter during the Third Calamity.
Even if the celestial beauties of the Sea Clan refused to appear, Petra didn't mind 'fishing' a few up herself. That thought lingered for a moment before she sighed softly.
"...What a good Idea." She patted herself on the back.
Petra adjusted herself on the pillow, patting the Calamity Wolf's fur as her thoughts continued to wander. She slipped off her small boots and pressed her feet into the soft white fur, snuggling deeper.
Petra's mind began to turn.
Rose's story had reached its end, and Mell's didn't seem to need much more. Rose had reunited with her sister, and Mell's path had reached a comfortable pause. Both of these 'core maids' had gotten enough attention for now.
Petra's mind drifted toward the others… towards 'the revenge party'.
Petra, Rose, Lira, Noah… Mell and Wind as well. They all had some form of grudge against the Mercenary Alliance, particularly the 'Black Chain' and the 'Black Lion'. To Petra, that sounded like a major plot thread, but her instincts told her that this was a story for the future. Something to revisit once the girls grew stronger and the world was ready for another fire. When it was time for that, Bouer would undoubtedly go through some kind of character development, right?
She shifted in her seat again, tugging her cloak closer.
Another thought crossed her mind, and that was the boy in the prison with Noah.
Her inner alarm went off immediately, and she could already imagine that child, the one Arthur had taken, becoming Noah's rival somewhere in the future. It would create the kind of rivalry that resulted from two close characters with the same starting point walking down two different paths.
"Mm," she hummed, "Maybe I should ask Noah who that kid was…?"
She shook her head.
Next on her little list were her contracted beasts. Petra still needed to finalize her contract with the Ash Fire Fairy when they arrived. After contracting with the Calamity Wolf, Petra could already feel that her physique had become slightly more complete. She wasn't sure what 'complete' meant, but she knew that her physique would go through a qualitative change after she contracted all nine.
Finally… Mells' two 'relatives' were still on their way here, Lethra and Lithra.
It was taking them far too long.
As for why…
Even though the absurdly thick shell of mental energy cut them off from the outside world, the Tibon Family had still managed to locate them. A small war had already broken out somewhere near the edge of the Grey Plains, between the Tibon Family and the Ant Army.
Petra wasn't too worried.
Losing was impossible, after all. She had the advantage in both numbers and lethality. But she was curious, how were they tracking them so easily?
Petra would have to wait until they arrived to find out.
Her attention shifted again.
Through her network of ants that spread across the majority of the western region, she had confirmed the current positions of everyone else who held any level of significance.
Kilemin was in the Grey Plains, overseeing the evacuation of the locals.
Elena was traveling from Oriest back towards Darkwell, regrouping with the United Army.
Arthur, somewhat predictably, was still having a mental breakdown. As he slowly made his way to Darkwell, he had begun to notice more and more ants that didn't reflect in his foresight. This could only mean that they were related to that intolerable little girl, which drove him mad. What was worse, that feeling of being 'watched' had not stopped ever since he made this connection.
Finally, there was Rotell and the Hellion Empire. They had also joined with the United Army, and were expected to become one of the major forces in the upcoming confrontation.
Drip! Something interrupted her chain of thought.
Petra blinked, then looked up.
One drop, then another, two, three, four… Within moments, it began to rain.
This wasn't normal rain, it was thick and heavy, like black ink.
Petra frowned slightly and stood up. The Calamity Wolf lifted its head, whimpered, and stayed where it was, watching silently as she walked towards the edge of the pavilion.
The rain fell beyond the roof's reach, and when she stretched out her hand, a single drop fell into her palm. It didn't burn, it didn't sizzle, It simply…. sat there. It was heavy and cold, with an almost hollow-like feeling, a little bit like a heavy bubble.
Petra tilted her head.
"Mm…?"
She could tell immediately that whatever this was, it wasn't poison.
The Book of Calamity had described the Second Calamity as a 'Sea of Poison and a Sky of Death.'
It seemed that the 'Sky of Death' had finally arrived.
She looked out towards the horizon. The rain was thickening, slowly forming a black curtain that swallowed the land.
Each drop that touched the earth carried with it the power to wither. Trees slowly wilted, grass began to turn grey, and the unique spiritual energy that enveloped the western region and carried the resolute will of its people began to dilute. It was a slow decay, a process that would take weeks, perhaps months, but with time, the western region would slowly die.
Petra breathed softly and withdrew her hand. The droplet on her palm had already vanished, absorbed into her skin, then dispersed by her body's uniqueness.
The Second Calamity had entered the next stage.
* * *
That day, the black rain swept across the western region.
Most of the commoners, the old, weak, and isolated, had already been evacuated, but those that hadn't, the ones still on the road, or those too remote to reach, all fell victim to the rain.
It began with weakness. Within a few days, those who were unprotected and exposed to the black rain would start to feel fatigue and headaches. After a little longer, they'd lose control of their muscles, and drift into a drowsiness that they couldn't escape. A few more days, and it would become difficult to breathe. Then, while the final days approached, confusion, followed by the collapse of the mind. By the third week, the body began to fail completely. Coughing blood, bleeding from the eyes and ears, organs slowly shut down one after another, and finally, nothing remained but silence.
The process took roughly three weeks.
This was the time it took the Black Rain to kill a normal person.
It was an extremely excruciating process for those that couldn't get the necessary treatment in time.
The Mercenary Alliance, Hellion Empire, and the United Army did everything they could to endure. Protective spells, enchanted fabrics, defensive artifacts, even crude alchemical rubs… anything to keep the rain from touching their skin.
At the same time, the United Army's doctors and poison masters, many of which had been recruited from the Grand Gathering in Imai, worked tirelessly to study the many poisons that had been spreading throughout the western region. The Poison Sea, The Death Cloud, and a dozen lesser afflictions that had begun to appear alongside the second calamity, such as the Duskwood Dust, Purple Death, The Featherless Virus, Rotting Reserves, The Dusk Dwellers Parasitization, and the strange toxin that was causing the insects to become massive.
Speaking of the insects…
When Petra had traveled with the small team not too long ago, she encountered a few massive insects. Some of them had already reached twenty to thirty meters tall, and now, they had continued to grow even further, reaching up to thirty to forty.
The western region was slowly collapsing.
The land, sea, and sky were all facing their own doom.
But the story wasn't over yet.
Elena was already on her way to Darkwell, carrying a solution that might finally bring an end to the second calamity, and stop the corrupted world tree.
Time was ticking and everything had to end, or the second calamity would spill out of the western region and begin to infect the rest of the continent.
Soon, they would have to begin the one-way journey to the world tree.
* * *
Black Tower, upper level.
The Black Tower's Alchemy room was filled with the low hum of alchemical tools and specialized runes carved into the walls.
Hitrit stood before the central cauldron, his black robes hung neatly beside the furnace. He wore loose black pants with a baggy white shirt. Thin strands of smoke curled up from the cauldron flame, mixing with the pale light that filled the chamber.
Every breath here felt heavy, mixing with the wave of medicine and adding weight to the room.
He moved with precision, adjusting the temperature of the cauldron, watching the colors shift with his spiritual energy. It was a test of concentration and confidence, where even the smallest mistake compounded into disaster.
Then, the door slammed open!
Bang!
"Master Hitrit!" The voice cried out, cutting through the room.
The sound tore through the silence. Pot stumbled through the threshold, panting hard. Her hair was messy, and her hands were trembling. She was covered in cold sweat, not from the run, but from something else.
Hitrit didn't turn immediately.
He could already feel that something bad had happened, but losing his concentration would only make it worse. He placed his hands on the cauldron to stabilize it, adjusted its temperature, and only then spoke without looking back. "You're interrupting me, why…?"
Her voice cracked as she cried. "I-It's Pen!"
That name caused Hitrit to jerk. His gaze lifted slowly, turning towards the dishevelled Pot. The light from the surrounding runes dimmed for a brief second, bending towards him almost as if the tower itself was paying attention. His eyes gleamed under the pale light, sharp and direct, pushing the sudden shift in atmosphere down even further.
"What about him?" He asked in a low voice.
"They took him!" Pot said, her voice shaking. "The one on the lower floor. T-they said that he was 'Tibon blood' and passed him to a group of people outside. T-they, they…!"
While Pot stuttered—
Hitrit's reaction was instant.
The air in the room shifted, pressing out like a wave. The faint glow from the tower runes flared, trembling faintly within the walls, reacting to something unseen, and resisting his pressure.
Hitrit's eyes narrowed. "Who took him?"
"I-I don't know," she said quickly. "I only heard them say they were acting on the higherups' orders. I tried to stop them b-but—" She stopped talking.
The runes around them had begun to vibrate, reacting to the sudden spike of spiritual energy.
Hitrit's voice was quiet. "They came to the tower…!" Pot nodded quickly. "Y-yes, Master Hitrit, they—" He didn't let her finish. "—Inside the Black Tower, without permission, and took a student under my name?" The last words came out with frigid anger.
Pot could finally feel his anger radiating.
He walked towards the far wall, each step sending a faint ripple through the floor. "I warned myself once," he said in a cold voice. "I didn't think that they would touch this place…! Damn it!"
Hitrit gritted his teeth.
The glass containers on the shelves rattled as his spiritual pressure built up.
Pot flinched, retreating towards the wall. The vibrations from his spiritual energy were barely restrained, unconsciously tearing at her skin. It was like she was standing in a sandstorm. "M-master Hitrit, w-what are we going to do?"
Hitrit stopped at the door. "Let's go find your brother, before it's too late."
It was a clear and cold response, one that concealed an explosive emotion.
The runic seals above the doorway responded to his movements, brightening until the entire frame flashed. He pulled on his black robe and stepped forward with resounding steps.
"This is the Black Tower," he said with dark eyes. "Not their damn backyard!"
The doors opened without a word. The light from the hall spilled in, tracing sharp lines across his silhouette, and casting a long and domineering shadow.
Pot followed him out, her steps shaky, her fists clenched.
Something about Hitrit's back gave her the slightest flicker of hope.
* * *
In another place…
Beneath the Black Rain, a silent figure stood.
This was a pale-skinned elf cloaked in black robes. Unlike normal elves, this elves ears protruded slightly too far, and stood slightly too tall. He had piercing red eyes, and a sickly complexion. His clothes looked old, worn down by time, and his gaze, despite its intensity, seemed to almost lack that flicker of life.
The center of his forehead was occupied by a moon shaped totem formed from bones.
He stood alone, his head tilted up, looking at the corrupted world tree on the horizon. His piercing red eyes tore through the darkness and stared at the massive tree with an expressionless face.
After a long time, he turned away. His shadow disappeared beneath the Black Rain, leaving nothing but the lingering lack of life where he stood.
All that remained was an unheard whisper… "Syval was right… even though it's only the second calamity, I can already feel the curse loosening. It won't be long…"
* * *
Lions Tail Island.
While the wheels of fate were beginning to correct, Petra had finally returned to the Ant Avatar. While she was 'AFK', the Ant Avatar had been finishing up its sweep of the Black Lions Research Laboratory.
Now that Petra was back, it was time to move on.
When Petra 'reconnected', she opened her eyes to find herself slightly outside the front gate, but strangely enough, Petra discovered that the Ant Avatar seemed to have fallen asleep in the middle of a potato field…
Ant: "…"
Petra: "…"
Potatoes: "…"
-
[Omission of Audio]