Chapter 9 (Volume 3 Finale)

The pale sky above casts a soft golden hue across the back garden, where Lily and Sanguinella duel beneath the arched branches of the mana-infused sakura trees. Petals swirl with each strike, the faint hum of arcane friction vibrating the air.

Sanguinella, holding her icy blood spellcaster katana Chiketsu, slides back with graceful footwork, sending an icy mist along the stones. Her spell Hemorrhage detonates in an area-of-effect ring behind Lily—but Lily had already flipped forward, using Dramatic Play’s chain as an anchor to sling herself like a pendulum around the shockwave.

Shizuku (watching from the sliding door, sipping tea):
They’ve both gotten good.

He smiles faintly, arms crossed. His eyes linger longer on Lily—her control, her poise, the way she layers her chains with misdirection. She fights like both her parents: raw finesse and hidden brutality, wrapped in dramatic flair.

Shizuku (softly):
She's going to surpass me someday.

Interior – Universal Guard HQ, War Room – A few hours later

Astera, still bandaged across his shoulder from the Putrefacci mission, sits cross-legged at the round table with Shizuku, Alto, and Eris. The remaining Sigil Fragments of Pullulation and Stagnation float gently between his hands, restrained in crystal vials.

Astera:
So, in short: both Primordials understood the necessity of the mission. They didn’t just test our strength—they tested our intent. Berwick and Asche made it out with only a few cuts, but… those dragons weren’t conjured illusions. They were born of the concepts themselves.

Eris (nodding):
That confirms it. The remaining three fragments—Regenora, Kakia, and Siegfried—will probably escalate.

Alto:
Regenora’s aligned with creation, so I imagine hers is sealed behind a labyrinth of potential. Siegfried... fire and war. It’ll be a trial by battle.

Shizuku:
What about Kakia?

Astera (tense silence):
That one’s personal. If we’re not all ready by then… we’ll lose more than time.

Later that Night – Imperial Dormitories, Meeresboden: Central

Astera, alone in his room, flops onto his bed and stares up at the crystal-lined ceiling. The stars are quiet tonight, and for once, so is the storm in his chest. He reaches for his phone, hesitates for a moment, then calls Nalea.

The call clicks.

Nalea (over the line, bright and gentle):
Hey, Astera.

Astera (smiling faintly):
Hey. You free tonight? Thought maybe we could hang out, decompress a little. Feels like it’s been a year since we’ve just… existed.

Nalea (laughs softly):
Yes. Absolutely yes. Meet you in an hour?

Astera:
I’ll be there.

He ends the call and lays the phone on his chest. For the first time in months, he exhales like a normal teenager again.

—

The lights of the capital shimmer in cascading starfire, the branches of the Spirit Trees pulsing with ethereal energy. As the gears of fate slow for just one evening, the universe holds its breath for what’s to come.