Chapter 50 – Soul Bonded Champion

The fighting stops.

Not with a bang.

Not with a declaration.

Just… quiet.

The air settles. The glass panels of the library slowly repair themselves with soft pulses of light.

Conrad rolls his shoulders like he just finished a light stretch.

“Well now,” he says casually, “I reckon I’ve got a few settings in this library to adjust.”

Like he didn’t just rewrite physics in front of me.

He walks off without another word.

Unbelievable.

I turn.

And that’s when I realize—

Luna is completely out.

“Oi…”

She sways.

Then—

Poof.

Right onto my back.

I barely catch her.

“…You serious right now?” I mutter, adjusting her weight.

She’s light.

Warm.

Breathing softly against my neck.

Her hair brushes my cheek.

“Randy…” she murmurs half-asleep.

Yeah.

Soul bond or not…

This is dangerous territory.

Behind me, Garnet laughs softly.

“She is a tough one,” Garnet says, arms crossed.
“For someone who nearly collapsed twice.”

I glance back.

“She pushed herself.”

“Yes,” Garnet nods, almost fondly. “And that is why I am amused.”

She steps closer, her presence no longer oppressive — just regal.

“But regarding your request… the Drowned Maiden Clan will join the Court.”

I nod slowly.

“But not the meeting itself, correct?”

Her smile widens.

“You understand quickly.”

I adjust Luna slightly on my back.

“With everything happening, the surface people won’t believe any of this anyway.”

Garnet’s eyes gleam.

“At least you are aware of that.”

She pauses.

“And for what it’s worth… you and Luna are welcome here.”

That almost sounds… sincere.

“Oh,” she adds lightly, “where are my manners? Your companions are… enjoying themselves in the guest chambers.”

Something about that tone worries me.

I open the chamber doors.

And—

Chaos.

Absolute pirate chaos.

“Arr! Where be me grog?!” Riven shouts, standing on a table.

Of course.

Ravenna is laughing with Misha — and by laughing, I mean holding TWO FULL BARRELS between them like trophies.

“Drink properly!” Ravenna shouts.

“We are drinking properly!” Misha replies.

Seraphina and Lucida?

Sparring.

With drinks in hand.

“Come! Show me what you’ve got!!” Seraphina roars.

Lucida grins wildly.

“HAHAHA! That’s the spirit!”

They clash blades while trying not to spill their mugs.

Eira stands on a chair in the center of the room, swaying dramatically.

“Heave ho, me hearties, and let the grog flow free—HAHAHAHA!!”

Yep.

She’s gone.

Completely gone.

Lockbolt?

He’s leaning against a pillar, laughing with his men—

And somehow surrounded by mermaids.

Of course he is.

…I think I understand now why so many sailors “never return.”

I sigh.

Luna shifts slightly on my back.

“…Warm…” she murmurs.

My face heats up instantly.

“Don’t start,” I whisper.

From behind me, Garnet observes the chaos with mild curiosity.

“So this is how surface warriors celebrate.”

“…Unfortunately, yes.”

She tilts her head.

“You are different from them.”

I glance down slightly.

“I don’t think so.”

“You carry restraint.”

She pauses.

“And she carries conviction.”

Her eyes flick to Luna.

“The bond between you two… is not ordinary.”

My chest tightens.

I don’t respond.

Because I don’t know how to.

Garnet steps away.

“Rest well, Soul Bonded Champion.”

I freeze.

“…What?”

But she’s already walking off.

I look down at Luna again.

Her breathing steady.

Her face peaceful.

Soul Bonded Champion…

Is she talking about me?

Or Luna?

Or both of us?

Behind me—

“Randy!! Drink with us!!” Riven shouts.

“No.”

“Coward!!”

“I’m carrying someone, you idiot!”

Luna shifts again.

Her fingers tighten slightly against my shoulder.

“…Don’t leave…” she whispers.

My heart stops for half a second.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

And for once—

That isn’t a joke.

…Yet.

Wait.

Where is—

Harmonia?

The room is loud. Too loud. Music. Laughter. The scent of salt, steel, and questionable alcohol.

Then—

A blur.

Pink.

Gold.

Wind.

“RANDYYYYYYY—!!!”

Something crashes into me.

NO—

Not into me.

In front of me.

But close enough that I nearly lose balance.

“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!” Harmonia shouts, arms wrapping around my neck in a crushing bear hug.

I stagger.

“Oi!! Will you stop doing that?!” I yell, trying not to drop Luna.

Harmonia presses her cheek against mine like we’re in some reunion scene.

“I was worried!! You disappeared! You fought! You almost died! Again!”

Again?!

I feel it.

A chill.

A dangerous one.

“Back… off…”

Luna’s voice.

Low.

Cold.

Her head slowly lifts from my shoulder.

Her aquamarine eyes glow faintly.

Her fingers tighten—

And for a split second—

They’re not fingers.

They’re claws.

Literal claws.

Sharp.

Silver.

Of a damn cat.

“Hey! HEY!! That hurts!!” I yelp as she digs into my collarbone.

Harmonia pulls back slightly.

“Not fair!! You’ve had him the whole time!” she pouts.

“I was unconscious!” Luna snaps.

“You were still there!”

“I did not consent to piggyback display!”

“DISPLAY?!”

“WILL YOU BOTH STOP?!” I shout.

The room actually pauses for half a second.

Seraphina blinks mid-swing.

Lucida lowers her mug slightly.

Riven whispers, “Ah… the captain be doomed.”

I turn my head slightly.

“Luna, if you’re fine, get off my back!”

“…No.”

“What do you mean no?!”

She tightens her hold.

“…Comfortable.”

My brain malfunctions.

Harmonia gasps dramatically.

“UNFAIR!”

She grabs my arm.

Now I’m stuck.

One on my back.

One on my front.

I can literally feel my lifespan decreasing.

If Seraphina were sober—

I would not survive this.

Elowen would absolutely be watching this with that slow, evil smirk of hers.

Somewhere far away—

In the Stroud’s observation deck—

Elowen suddenly sneezes.

“…Jeez,” she mutters, rubbing her nose.

“Told ya…”

Back in the chamber—

Harmonia narrows her eyes at Luna.

Luna narrows hers back.

The air between them crackles.

It’s not magic.

It’s worse.

Female tension.

“You glow when you’re jealous,” Harmonia says innocently.

“I do not glow.”

“You are glowing.”

“…Shut up.”

Harmonia grins mischievously.

“Randy~”

“No.”

“You haven’t answered me.”

“No.”

“Where were you?”

“…Training.”

“With Conrad.”

“And?”

“And what?”

Harmonia leans closer.

“Was it dangerous?”

“…Yes.”

Her expression shifts instantly.

That playful sparkle fades.

“…Did you get hurt?”

For a second—

The chaos around us dulls.

The noise lowers.

Luna’s grip tightens subtly too.

I sigh.

“…A little.”

Harmonia punches my chest lightly.

“Idiot.”

Luna mutters against my shoulder—

“…Reckless.”

I blink.

…They’re both worried.

Great.

Now I feel guilty.

“I’m fine,” I say quietly.

Silence.

Then—

CRASH!

Seraphina gets launched into a table and laughs like it’s the best day of her life.

The room explodes back into noise.

Harmonia sighs dramatically again.

“Fine. But next time I’m coming.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes!”

Luna finally slides off my back.

But instead of stepping away—

She stands beside me.

Close.

Too close.

Harmonia notices.

Her smile sharpens.

“Ohhh…”

Luna’s ears twitch.

“Do not start.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it.”

“I absolutely was.”

I press my fingers to my temples.

“I fought a near-immortal sea warrior today…”

“And this is harder,” I mutter.

Both of them respond instantly.

“Yes.”

I look at them.

They look at each other.

Then back at me.

Synchronised.

That is terrifying.

From across the room—

Riven raises a mug.

“To the Soul Bonded Champion!”

The room cheers.

I freeze.

Harmonia blinks.

“…Soul what?”

Luna goes still beside me.

Ah.

Right.

That.

“…It’s nothing,” I say quickly.

Both girls stare at me.

It is absolutely not nothing.

And for some reason—

I have the feeling this “bond” is going to cause more trouble than any war ever could.

The room is loud.

Too loud.

Harmonia and Luna are literally toe-to-toe now.

“You were clinging!”

“I was unconscious!”

“You were glowing!”

“I was not glowing!”

Claws. Sparkles. Emotional warfare.

I slowly step away.

“…I need air.”

Neither of them hears me.

Good.

Because I pull it out.

The Codex.

Drake’s book.

The leather is older than it should be. The edges hum faintly — not magical… but intentional.

I open it.

The air shifts.

The noise around me dulls, like the world lowers its volume in respect.

Drake’s handwriting is sharp. Precise. Structured.

This isn’t some drunken pirate rambling.

This is architecture.

He writes about code.

Not magic.

Not swords.

Law.

In the 17th and 18th centuries, pirates lived by Articles of Agreement — the Pirate Code. Each crew drafted their own articles before sailing. Every member signed — or marked — to belong.

I blink.

He’s referencing history.

Our world’s history.

How the hell does he know this?

The next pages explain structure.

Division of treasure.

Captain and officers receive more — but not excessive.

Every crew member receives a fair share.

Fair.

Pirates… fair?

Rules and punishments.

No fighting aboard ship.

No gambling that endangers morale.

Punishments harsh — whipping, marooning, death.

Order through consequence.

Then—

Compensation for injury.

If a pirate loses a limb, an eye, or suffers crippling wounds in battle—

They are paid.

Generously.

Workers’ compensation.

From pirates.

I let out a quiet breath.

“…Drake… you were insane.”

Or brilliant.

Next page—

Captain’s Authority and Voting.

Captains are elected.

They can be voted out.

Every member gets a vote in major decisions.

This isn’t piracy.

This is a proto-democracy.

It’s more equal than most kingdoms.

And then—

I see it.

The concept.

Pirate King.

But not in the way stories tell it.

Not a conqueror.

Not a tyrant.

A central negotiator.

A stabilizer.

A unifier of clans who would otherwise destroy each other through ego.

Drake writes:

A Pirate King must never rule by fear alone. Fear collapses coalitions. Respect maintains them.

He understood politics.

Modern politics.

This reads like corporate governance.

Brethren Court structure.

Meeting procedures.

Voting systems.

Clans maintaining autonomy.

One enforcer aligned with the King to ensure balance.

An external Bookkeeper — guardian of the original Codex.

Checks.

Balances.

Distributed power.

“…This never happened in our world,” I whisper.

Because humans would never vote against themselves.

The flaw of ego.

Then—

The final pages.

Most of it reads like corporate structure manuals disguised as pirate tradition.

And then—

A small note.

Different handwriting tone.

Personal.

Written in full English dialect.

My breath slows.

“Aurorvyr. A place and home of the Valkyries. It is how Asgard is.
The true treasure is not warriors…
But a gate and a well called ‘Urd’s Well’.
It protects them.
The coordinates:
Where the Aurora touches the ice — 90° North, by the First Light’s Meridian.
When reached, speak:
Ek em einn þinn… ok þú ert einn minn.”

My fingers tighten around the page.

(I am yours… and you are mine.)

My heartbeat thunders.

That phrase.

That exact phrase.

Lilith—

No.

Mom.

That’s what she said.

In my dream.

The same dialect.

The same words.

My vision flickers.

90° North.

The North Pole.

Aurora.

A gate.

Urd’s Well.

Valkyries.

Asgard.

This isn’t pirate fantasy.

This is myth layered inside political structure.

Drake didn’t just build a court.

He built a safeguard.

A way to control the clans.

And a way to guard something far greater.

The Codex isn’t just law.

It’s a key.

Behind me—

CRASH.

“You scratched me!”

“You deserved it!”

I glance back.

Luna’s ears are fully visible now.

Harmonia is fuming.

They freeze when they notice my expression.

“…Randy?” Harmonia asks.

Luna tilts her head.

“…What did you find?”

I close the book slowly.

There’s weight in my chest now.

Heavier than battle.

Heavier than politics.

“He knew,” I murmur.

“Knew what?” Luna steps closer.

“That this world wasn’t just about clans.”

My voice drops.

“There’s something at the North Pole.”

Harmonia blinks.

“…Like snow?”

“No.”

“A gate.”

Luna goes still.

“And a well.”

Her eyes darken slightly.

“…Urd.”

I look at her sharply.

“You know it?”

“…It is tied to fate.”

Of course it is.

I laugh softly.

Of course my life leads to fate wells guarded by Valkyries.

And somehow—

The phrase keeps echoing in my head.

I am yours… and you are mine.

That isn’t a spell.

It’s a vow.

A binding.

A soul binding.

Soul Bonded Champion.

My stomach drops.

“…Damn it.”

Harmonia crosses her arms.

“Okay. I’m officially confused.”

I look at both of them.

“If we survive this… I need to talk to Uncle.”

“And if we don’t?” Harmonia asks.

I close the Codex.

“…Then we’re walking straight into a myth.”

And for the first time tonight—

The pirate laughter around us feels small.

Because somewhere far north—

Under the aurora—

Something is waiting.

And I have a feeling…

It’s been waiting for me.

The chamber hasn’t quieted.

But it’s no longer chaos.

It’s watching.

Lockbolt approaches slowly.

His boots heavy against the stone floor.

His usual grin? Gone.

His expression is serious now.

He stops in front of me.

His eyes fall to the book in my hands.

“Aye…” he mutters.

“That be the one.”

His fingers hover above it like it might bite.

“The Codex… written by Drake Stroud himself…”

There’s reverence in his voice.

And fear.

I hesitate for half a second.

Then I hand it to him.

He takes it carefully.

Like handling a relic.

He opens it.

The pages shift.

The ink glimmers faintly.

His brow furrows.

Silence.

He flips a page.

Then another.

Then another.

Nothing.

“…Arr.”

He squints.

“…Only a scribe o’ the book could make out these markings…”

He looks up at me.

Confused.

“It’s… scribbles.”

The room murmurs.

Riven leans closer.

“It looks blank.”

Blank?

I snatch it back.

Open it.

The text is clear.

Sharp.

Structured.

Readable.

“What do you mean blank?” I ask.

Lockbolt scratches his beard.

“I see curves. Lines. Strange letters.”

Conrad’s voice drifts lazily from behind us.

“Well now…”

He steps forward, hands behind his back.

“The reason for that is it’s written in what we call Old English.”

He tilts his head slightly.

“The real puzzle, though… is how he’s readin’ it like a children’s bedtime story.”

He looks at me.

Calm.

Too calm.

“Makes you wonder just how that works, doesn’t it?”

The room goes still.

Harmonia blinks.

“…Wait. Only Randy can read it?”

Luna looks at the pages.

Then at me.

“…You did not struggle.”

I swallow.

I didn’t.

It just… made sense.

Garnet approaches, her steps measured.

“That is precisely why I required Conrad.”

She crosses her arms.

“None of us could decipher it. Not the Drowned Maidens. Not the Stroud bloodline.”

Her eyes narrow slightly.

“And yet you can.”

I feel every gaze on me.

This isn’t funny anymore.

I clear my throat.

“I… think I understand the structure.”

Lockbolt steps closer.

“Then speak, lad.”

So I do.

“In times of danger,” I begin slowly, “the Pirate King must convene the Brethren Court.”

The room quiets further.

“All clan leaders must assemble. Counsel must be given. Arguments heard.”

Garnet nods faintly.

I continue.

“If the vote does not favor the King… a re-vote must take place.”

Murmurs ripple.

“And if approved…”

My grip tightens on the Codex.

“Every clan in Eligos must join the fight.”

Dead silence.

Even Seraphina lowers her drink.

Lockbolt exhales slowly.

“That ain’t just tradition…”

“That’s war authority,” Conrad finishes.

Harmonia tilts her head.

“So… if Randy calls the Court…”

“All clans must respond,” Garnet says calmly.

“Even those who despise one another.”

Lockbolt looks at me again.

“And if they refuse?”

I flip a page.

There it is.

Enforcement clause.

“The Enforcer.”

Conrad smiles faintly.

“Well now.”

I look up.

“The King must appoint an Enforcer. One whose authority supersedes clan pride.”

The room shifts subtly.

Power.

That word hangs unspoken.

Luna steps closer to me.

“…And if the King is weak?”

I glance down.

There’s another line.

Cold.

Precise.

“If the King fails to protect the balance of Eligos…”

I pause.

Lockbolt’s jaw tightens.

“The Court may vote to depose him.”

Silence.

Garnet nods slowly.

“Drake built a system that prevents tyranny.”

“And prevents chaos,” Conrad adds.

Lockbolt looks at me long and hard.

“…But here be the real question, lad.”

He gestures toward the book.

“Why can ye read it?”

I don’t have an answer.

Because it’s not just language.

It’s instinct.

Structure.

Politics.

Systems.

It feels familiar.

Like reading something I already knew.

Conrad watches me carefully.

“Well now,” he says lightly, though his eyes are sharp.

“Drake didn’t just write this for any pirate.”

A pause.

“He wrote it for someone.”

My heartbeat slows.

Thud.

Thud.

Harmonia grabs my sleeve.

“…Randy.”

Luna’s voice is quieter.

“…You are not reacting like someone surprised.”

Because I’m not.

Because deep down—

I knew.

The Pirate King isn’t a conqueror.

He’s a stabilizer.

A negotiator.

A bridge.

And Drake designed the Codex like a corporate constitution.

Checks.

Balances.

Enforcement.

Voting.

Shared risk.

Shared reward.

This isn’t piracy.

This is governance.

And somehow—

It feels like something I’ve studied before.

Lockbolt finally speaks.

“…If ye can read it…”

His eyes narrow slightly.

“Then the sea may already have chosen.”

The chamber feels smaller suddenly.

Heavier.

Garnet watches quietly.

Conrad smiles faintly.

Luna’s hand brushes mine.

Harmonia grips my sleeve tighter.

And for the first time—

The idea doesn’t feel absurd.

If I can read the Codex…

If I understand its structure…

If Drake wrote it for someone like me…

Then maybe—

The Soul Bonded Champion…

Isn’t just a mythic title.

Maybe it’s political.

And far more dangerous than any sword.

We decide to move.

Strategically?

Yes.

Logistically?

Terrible idea.

Half the crew is drunk.

Not tipsy.

Drunk.

There is vomit.

Actual vomit.

If they throw up inside my submarine, it’s going to smell like a pirate tavern for the next century.

I pinch the bridge of my nose.

“I just hope they all magically sober up when the enemy arrives…”

Behind me—

Luna and Harmonia are still locked in cat-combat.

“No, you were definitely glowing!”

“I was not glowing!”

“You hissed!”

“I do not hiss!”

Garnet approaches them calmly.

“Luna.”

“I’m busy!!” Luna snaps.

“Yeah! She’s being a pain!” Harmonia fires back.

Garnet ignores both of them.

“That move of yours.”

Silence.

Luna freezes.

“…What about it?”

“It is incomplete.”

Harmonia blinks.

“Ohhh.”

Luna turns fully toward Garnet now.

“And that is?”

Garnet’s gaze sharpens.

“I have seen Lilith fight.”

The room subtly quiets.

“Better yet,” she continues, “we dueled.”

Luna’s eyes narrow.

“And?”

“Aurorvyr.”

The word lands heavy.

“Only Valkyries fight like that.”

The air changes.

Harmonia tilts her head.

“Yeah, but Randy did something similar, remember?”

She points at me dramatically.

“He took down that stupidly strong guy like it was nothing!”

Luna nods slightly.

“…You did.”

All eyes turn to me.

“That was just—”

I wave vaguely.

“Some crazy warrior that’s hard to beat.”

I shrug.

“Like a cockroach.”

Silence.

“…Cock…roach?” Luna repeats slowly.

Conrad chuckles from behind.

“Well now, cockroaches… roaches, to be exact.”

He folds his arms casually.

“They’re foul little creatures. Thrive in filth. Multiply endlessly. Tougher than a two-dollar steak.”

He tilts his head.

“Makes a body wonder… what kind of tenacious, unyieldin’ warrior that’d be.”

I sigh.

“Lu Bu.”

Everyone blinks.

“Lu Bu,” I repeat. “From the Three Kingdoms.”

Conrad nods approvingly.

“Ah, that’s right. For all his prowess… he still met his end at Cao Cao’s hands.”

His gaze sharpens slightly.

“And I did mention how Cao Cao managed that, didn’t I?”

I nod slowly.

“By not treating him as a rival warrior.”

“But as a wild beast,” Conrad finishes.

“To be trapped.”

“To be put down.”

The implication lingers.

I look at him.

“You’d rather I be Cao Cao.”

“Well now,” Conrad smiles thinly, “he never did concern himself with fighting fair.”

Luna crosses her arms.

“…That is underhanded.”

“It is effective,” Conrad replies.

I glance toward the Codex in my hand.

“So… is that what you think about Aurorvyr?”

He looks toward the ceiling, almost nostalgic.

“Well now… maybe so.”

A pause.

“Then again… might just be a dream.”

“A dream…” I mutter.

He turns away.

“Well now, before we chase dreams—let’s handle the present.”

He hands me something.

A small metallic badge.

Sleek.

Minimal.

“What the heck is this? A graduation badge?”

He knocks my head lightly.

“That’s right. The graduate badge.”

I glare at him.

“It’s a personal communication device,” he explains. “Linked directly to me. If you require guidance—or if I feel inclined to give it—we’ll speak through this.”

He pauses.

“You might think of it as a miniature Aurorvyr.”

My breath slows.

“…Or a door home?”

He smiles faintly.

“Perhaps.”

Is he planning to return too?

I look at him carefully.

“So if you figure out how to go back…”

I hold up the badge.

“…call me.”

He gives me a thumbs-up.

That same relaxed smile.

The same one from before.

Before everything changed.

He starts to walk away.

Wait.

“Conrad.”

He stops.

Turns slightly.

“Yes?”

“How did you even end up here?”

He glances at Garnet.

They exchange a look.

An old look.

A knowing one.

“Well now,” he says lightly, “we’ve met.”

“That’s the long and short of it.”

Garnet smiles faintly.

So that’s it.

No explanation.

Just history.

Luna suddenly bows formally toward Garnet.

“I thank you for the wisdom. Though… it was excessive.”

Garnet taps Luna’s head gently and ruffles her hair.

“You are still a pup.”

Luna stiffens.

“Being royal means nothing,” Garnet continues calmly. “Learn how to lead. That is what matters.”

Luna nods slowly.

She accepts it.

Across the chamber—

Eira staggers upright.

“Arr… hic… At least it all be good… These folks… they be good people…”

She throws an arm around Lucida and Misha.

“In me book… they be friends.”

Lucida laughs.

“You are welcome here anytime.”

Misha winks at me.

“Please come back again… right?”

Luna’s glare snaps toward me instantly.

Harmonia’s glare snaps toward Misha.

I feel death approaching from two directions.

I swallow.

“Yeah. I’m dead.”

“Hmm?” Luna asks sweetly.

“Nothing.”

Harmonia smiles too brightly.

“Nothing at all.”

I turn toward the exit.

“Ugh… come on. Let’s go.”

Behind me—

Pirates wave.

Mermaids laugh.

Conrad watches silently.

Garnet stands tall.

And somewhere deep inside—

The word echoes again.

Aurorvyr.

Valkyries.

Soul Bonded.

The North.

This isn’t just politics anymore.

This is inheritance.

And I have a very bad feeling—

The sea has already chosen.

We depart at dawn.

The sea glows silver as the submarine slowly pulls away from the Drowned Maiden city.

Above the waterline, mermaids and warriors gather along coral balconies.

They wave.

Not as pirates.

Not as political allies.

But as something else.

Witnesses.

Luna stands beside me at the observation panel.

Harmonia leans over the console.

“…They’re really seeing us off,” she says softly.

I nod.

“Yeah.”

Behind us, Eira groans from the floor.

“Arr… I swear the ocean be movin’ too much…”

“You’re hungover,” I reply.

The submarine rises slightly—

Then dives forward.

Toward the storm.

Toward the war.

Meanwhile — Above the Surface

The sky is on fire.

Cannons roar.

Airships burn.

Steel crashes against steel.

The Stroud.

The Scourge.

The Strider.

Locked in open naval combat against the Silverfang fleet.

Explosions tear across the horizon.

Elowen stands at the helm of the Stroud, wind whipping through her hair.

Her eyes blaze.

“This is something!!”

Nu Wa laughs wildly from the Scourge.

“Arr!! Seems to me the Silverfang still be holdin’ a few cards!”

She slams her staff down.

Tikka raises both hands.

Ancient sigils spiral beneath her feet.

“Then let them drown.”

The ocean answers.

A vortex tears open beneath half of the Silverfang formation—

Ships tilt—

Men scream—

And an entire squadron is swallowed into the sea.

Steam rises where magic meets salt.

Tikka lowers her hands slowly.

“They are impatient…”

Her eyes narrow.

“…I wonder what has occurred at the Western Front.”

A pause.

“…Did the Pope make his move?”

Above them—

The sky darkens unnaturally.

Because they are not alone.

High Above – Western Demon Nation

Massive black airships float like floating fortresses.

Runed hulls.

Cannons glowing with infernal energy.

At the helm of the largest—

Xylara stands elegantly, long silver hair flowing in the wind.

Her lips curl.

“I wonder where the man is…”

Her fingers trace a faint scar along her side.

“…The one who cut me down.”

Beside her stands Valkor.

Calm.

Cold.

Calculating.

“Is that so.”

He watches the battle below without emotion.

“I believe he is weak.”

A pause.

“Merely fortunate.”

Xylara chuckles.

“Careful.”

Valkor’s eyes narrow slightly.

“We must eliminate them quickly.”

He gestures toward the fleets below.

“Before they convene the Brethren Court.”

That word hangs heavy.

“If Eligos unites,” he continues, “control becomes impossible.”

Xylara nods.

“The flame must be extinguished before it spreads.”

She scans the horizon.

“…Strange.”

“We have not seen him yet.”

Valkor looks to the clouds.

“Let us observe.”

Even Higher – Beyond the Clouds

Hidden in thundercloud shadows—

A dragon watches.

Massive.

Ancient.

Gold eyes glowing through mist.

Lord Himmel.

Beside him stands a winged man.

Armored.

Grim.

Klaus.

The dragon’s voice rumbles like distant storms.

“So…”

A pause.

“Valkor is a traitor.”

Klaus lowers his head.

“Yes, Lord Himmel.”

A flicker of pain in his voice.

“My own twin brother.”

“…An embarrassment.”

Himmel’s gaze remains fixed on the battlefield below.

“And yet…”

He exhales a slow plume of silver mist.

“…Nu Wa does not see it.”

Klaus clenches his jaw.

“What do you seek of me, my lord?”

Himmel’s eyes narrow.

“We cannot interfere.”

The clouds ripple slightly around him.

“To act now would disturb what must follow.”

Klaus hesitates.

“…You-know-what?”

The dragon’s eyes dim.

“…Malefexia.”

The name alone makes the sky tremble.

Even Klaus flinches.

“…Even you fear that name.”

Himmel’s voice lowers.

“It required all of dragonkind to seal her.”

His gaze drifts toward the northern horizon.

“Beyond this world.”

“Beyond memory.”

A pause.

“And yet…”

He looks toward the battlefield again.

“…I sense a thread leading back.”

Klaus stiffens.

“…The Priestess Luminari?”

“Perhaps.”

Lightning flickers silently in the clouds.

“I only hope…”

Himmel’s voice softens slightly.

“…Tikka knows what she is doing.”

Klaus watches the war below.

The fleets.

The demons.

The flame of rebellion.

“…Indeed.”

Below – Beneath the Sea

Inside the submarine—

I feel it.

A tremor.

Like pressure shifting.

Luna looks up suddenly.

“…Something is watching.”

Harmonia turns.

“Watching?”

I look at the radar.

Nothing.

But my chest tightens.

The badge Conrad gave me hums faintly.

Just for a second.

Then silence.

The war above rages.

The demons observe.

The dragons hesitate.

The name Malefexia echoes across unseen realms.

And we are sailing—

Straight into the center of it.

To Be Continued.