Gabriel increased the output of Gigan.
The geometric circles of Gigan appeared around his eyes. Blue magical circuits spread, penetrating space and reality itself.
His perception sliced through distance, extending beyond the Bounded Field, tracing mana flows, signs of life, and the structure of the terrain—tracking the positions of Gamma and the other Seven Shades.
Eventually, he reached a fog-shrouded region known as Abyss Woods, formerly the ruins of the lost Ancient City of Alexandria.
Within the mist, shadows began to form.
He saw the Seven Shades and several Numbers moving.
But this was no ordinary fog.
It was a mist imbued with ancient consciousness—a layer of existence that should not exist in this world.
"…Mist Dragon."
Gabriel's tone turned cold.
A disaster-class entity.
A being that had existed in this world for eons, and now the Seven Shades were moving toward it… unknowingly on the verge of awakening it.
Meanwhile, in the surrounding area, Gabriel found no sign of Cid at all.
That meant the Seven Shades were in danger.
Gabriel recalled what he knew about the Mist Dragon.
According to the lore of Kage no Jitsuryokusha, roughly a millennium ago, the Mist Dragon had made a pact with the King of Alexandria, promising prosperity and protection for the city.
In return for the king's obedience, the condition was that one day the Mist Dragon would be executed by the king's heir.
Over time, however, the pact was forgotten, and the king's descendants grew greedy with their wealth instead of striving to strengthen themselves.
Enraged, the Mist Dragon destroyed the kingdom, laying siege to the city and the surrounding forests.
This was how Abyss Woods came into being.
And now, the Mist Dragon had been awakened by the girls of the Seven Shades.
After a brief exchange with them, the dragon became enraged when questioned, leading to a confrontation in which the dragon ultimately overpowered the girls.
Soon after, Shadow appeared to rescue them.
Although Shadow was able to subdue the dragon through sheer arrogance, he was shocked to realize that he could not kill the creature.
The Mist Dragon then explained the curse of dragonkind's immortality and marked Shadow with its magical mist.
Afterward, the Mist Dragon allowed Shadow Garden to remain in Alexandria, dispersing the surrounding mist, with the hope that one day it might finally meet its end.
On the other hand, after recalling all this information, a thought crossed Gabriel's mind.
Or perhaps… from the very beginning, he had already planned to face the Mist Dragon.
He just hadn't found the time yet, burdened as he was with too many other matters.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
Ash had awakened from his slumber.
Within his mind, grand sentences spun like constellations shaping destiny.
Narrative and cosmic symbols intertwined, weaving a story the world itself was not yet ready to read.
Ash—The Pale Mist That Watches the Stars.
Now stood before the Mist Dragon, the ancient entity that refused death.
A collision between two voids.
Silence challenging silence.
A curse defying destiny.
His smile thinned, curving into a delicate line of satisfaction.
…Perfect.
A dragon that could not die, and Ash who had never truly lived.
Two existences that should not be, brought together by the fractured currents of the cosmos.
Utterly beautiful.
Even the stars themselves, if they could speak, would choose silence and simply witness.
Moments later, white smoke began to seep from the corners of his eyes.
The faint scent of burning drifted through the air.
Iota froze, her rabbit ears twitching.
"Ash-sama…?"
Gabriel immediately lowered the output of Gigan.
From his pocket, he took out an Elixir Potion and let the clear liquid drip into his eyes. He blinked once, then exhaled softly.
The world's vision stabilized again.
"Iota," he said flatly.
"Yes, Ash-sama."
"Good report," Gabriel spoke in a low voice. "For further developments… just report directly to Shadow."
Iota's green eyes widened slightly.
"Shadow-sama…?"
Gabriel gave a slight nod.
"I'll be gone for a while."
Without waiting for any further reaction, the cover of his digital Grimoire opened. Its pages spun rapidly, emitting a pale glow.
[- Dark Matter Creation Magic: Seraphim flügel des Leerenlichts -]
In an instant, three pairs of pale white wings formed on Gabriel's back, created from softly glowing Dark Matter mist.
A gentle breeze whispered around them.
Iota stood frozen, her pupils dilating.
On the other hand, Gabriel let out a long exhale.
"Competent subordinates are really troublesome…" he murmured in his mind. "Can't they just give me a moment to breathe?"
His thoughts drifted to the Seven Shades.
Those seven girls were extraordinary—far too extraordinary. They didn't wait for orders. They read the gaps, filled the voids, and moved faster than the shadows themselves.
From the perspective of a military leader, it was perfect.
But from Gabriel's perspective… it was terrifying.
The problem wasn't their ability—it was their mindset.
They didn't think of themselves as part of a budding secret organization; they thought of themselves as the core of a power destined to rule the world.
Every time they saw an opportunity, they jumped immediately.
Every time a space was empty, they filled it without hesitation.
Every time Gabriel remained silent or Cid babbled nonsense, they took it as absolute permission to advance.
There was no concept of waiting.
No concept of slowing down.
Only one thing existed: expansion.
"If I let my guard down even for a moment…" Gabriel thought, "they'll build an empire before I even get a chance to lay its foundations."
The three pairs of Seraphim wings on his back quivered.
"Truly… troublesome," he murmured softly.
Moments later, Gabriel beat his wings.
The air exploded.
At speeds reaching several Mach, the small body shot forward, tearing through the Bounded Field without destroying it, leaving behind a pale light that seemed to rip the night apart.
***
A thick fog hung low over the ground, enveloping trees and rocks until the world seemed severed from reality.
Visibility was barely a few meters, yet a single colossal figure stood clearly in the midst of it.
The Mist Dragon.
Its massive body twisted like a serpent, adorned with gradations of blue, and long whiskers that trailed as if born from the fog itself—its scales shimmered faintly like silver moonlight.
It had two powerful arms ready for combat, along with two pairs of wings stretched gracefully.
Its enormous eyes glared sharply, radiating authority and pressure that made the air feel heavier with each breath.
Before it, the Seven Shades stood in battle formation.
Alpha at the forefront, sword raised despite her trembling arm.
Beta and Gamma stood behind, magic and strategy ready, though their mana flow was disrupted by the fog.
Delta crouched low, body riddled with wounds, yet still growling with the will to strike.
Epsilon was holding several wounds together with healing magic.
Zeta and Eta guarded the flanks and rear, ready to face attacks from any direction.
They were still standing—but it was clear they were exhausted.
The Mist Dragon tilted its head slightly, staring at them one by one, as if reading the contents of their souls.
"Interesting," it said in a deep, resonant voice. "You do not flee even though your bodies and magic scream in protest."
A low, almost amused laugh escaped it.
"Many come to this forest driven by thirst for power. You do not. Your eyes… they seem to be seeking something else."
Alpha straightened her back, resisting the oppressive fog.
"We did not come to test our luck," she said firmly. "We have a purpose."
"Purpose, huh?" the Mist Dragon narrowed its eyes. "Purpose is the earliest form of will. Yet will… must be sharpened by suffering."
Delta gritted her teeth.
"If you want to test us, then do it! Stop speaking in circles!"
The Mist Dragon glanced at her and gave a faint smile.
"Ah, raw fire," it said lightly. "You are strong, little girl. But power without direction will only burn its wielder."
Delta fell silent, her breaths heavy.
Gamma stepped half a pace forward, though his knees felt ready to buckle.
"If you are so wise," he said coldly, "why attack us?"
"Because words only matter to those strong enough to hear them," the Mist Dragon replied calmly. "The weak will only understand pain."
It lifted its head slightly, and the fog swirled more slowly.
"I have lived longer than empires whose names you do not even know. I have seen heroes become legends, and legends turn to dust."
Its gaze returned to them.
"Only those who are willing to rise beyond themselves endure."
___
Author's Note:
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