Chapter 8

Astera, sweat clinging to his collar, steps through the flickering Primordial gate, clutching a glowing, foul-green sigil shard in one hand and a pulsating gold-green one in the other. Behind him, Berwick von Blutschwert and Asche Ace Kyezhen emerge, bruised, bloodied, and silent.

Astera (exhaling deeply):
We got ‘em.

He holds up both the Sigil Fragment of the Pullulator and the Sigil Fragment of Stagnation. They're jagged and unstable—two polar extremes in concept, somehow humming in strange synchrony.

Asche (low, dryly):
You know, I actually preferred when Kifo made us fight a rampant dragon on his behalf.

Berwick (cleaning his katana Enketsu):
Putrefacci’s beast smelled like a dying starfish crawling through molasses. I’m still offended.

Astera (grinning tiredly):
Wachstum’s wasn’t much better. Looked like a blooming tree, but every petal was a screaming face.

Flashback – Realm of Wachstum – Three Hours Earlier
An enormous garden of overgrowth and entropy stretched to infinity, vines wrapped around bones, stars sprouting like mushrooms. The trial? Defeat Gedeihen—a dragon made of bark, muscle, and living flora that could regenerate limbs faster than they could cut them off.

Astera (dodging a root whip):
Okay, this thing’s regenerating too fast!

Asche (arcane circles glowing):
Then hit it with unstable arcana—give it something it can’t adapt to!

Berwick (slicing through vines):
I’ll pin it. Aim for the core.

Together, they overwhelmed the beast with blood-slicked chains, arcane implosions, and starlight-laced sword strikes. The Primordial Wachstum, a gentle-eyed child with vines for hair and galaxies in their gaze, handed over the sigil willingly once the beast was down.

Flashback – Domain of Putrefacci – Two Hours Earlier
A decaying underwater cavern turned upside-down, time leaking through cracks. The dragon they faced—Putresecre, the Putrescent—was more a mass of slithering plague-ridden limbs than a creature.

Putrefacci (from a rotten throne):
End her suffering. You’ll earn your prize.

Even Astera had to struggle to breathe—Berwick’s blood arts kept their stamina up, while Asche’s light arcana pulses halted the dragon’s endless liquefaction. Finally, Astera plunged Chrysanthemum through its skull, and the monster screamed into mist.

Putrefacci, a light olive skinned king with a crown of fungus and wilted roses, handed him the second sigil without a word—only a nod.

Back to Present

Astera (wiping his forehead):
Honestly... they understood. Growth and decay are part of the cycle. I explained our mission, and they listened.

Asche:
Still made us prove we weren’t unworthy.

Berwick (sliding his blade back into its sheath):
That was the easy part. Explaining this to Sanguinella will be the hard one.

Astera (groaning):
Oh no.

Imperial HQ, Northern Meeresboden – Later that Night

Astera drops the fragments on the council table in the war room.

Shizuku (raising an eyebrow):
Two more.

Alto (examining the rot shard):
We’re almost there.

Eris (crossing arms):
Three left—Kakia, Regenora, and Siegfried.

Astera (rubbing his neck):
And I don’t even want to think about Kakia.