0.......

Merry Christmas (belated)! Apologies for the delay in posting. A small explanation for the delay is at the end of the chapter.

[...]---[...]

The Proto-A matrices were, I'd say, about eighty percent complete.

The outer part—whether through Mystic Symbol matrices or Runes—was mostly finished. There were still a few touch-ups to be done and the decision on which dye to use for painting the Mystic Symbols, which for now were just powerless sketches. Overall, it shouldn't take much longer.

The trickier part was the internal section. The internal matrices were far more intricate: command matrices, counterbalance matrices to support the external ones. Even the internal Runes were something more "delicate." If the ship's outer shell was meant to be as resistant and durable as possible, the internal part required a more delicate balance between resilience, durability, and control.

I couldn't just turn all the matrices into barriers and defense systems for the ship without considering how it would affect the crew. Striking this balance with the Humvee was relatively easy—the car was incredibly small compared to the Proto-A, which was nearly two hundred meters long and thirty meters wide.

Ignoring the fact that I wanted attack matrices—which would be mainly drawn on the artillery—the Proto-A would also be, for lack of a better word, a home, a safe haven. The ship needed to be sturdy but also shield anyone inside from whatever might attack it externally.

If it were just me inside the ship, I'd completely disregard this aspect. I could withstand almost any secondary impact reverberating through the walls. The ones I couldn't endure, I'd heal quickly. Whether it was echoes of attacks—heat, cold, shockwaves, or even mental and spiritual assaults—it didn't matter. But my companions couldn't. Be it in Terraria or other worlds, the vast majority of people I knew were far less resilient than I was, and that was a problem.

The night passed quickly. While I worked, I didn't focus on or even glance at the moon, which seemed to watch over the world from the sky. Only part of my attention was on my surroundings and the storm; the rest was on the matrices I was constructing.

Ozma and Jinn made a few comments here and there, mostly Jinn rather than Ozma. Occasionally, some comments from the stream would pop up, mostly from Ainz and Serafall, who were the ones least in need of sleep. For obvious reasons, they were the most active at that hour of the night—or morning, technically.

[Viewers: 3,298]

Three thousand was a good number given the time, though nowhere near the peak of around twelve thousand viewers.

As I skimmed through the (CHAT) messages, Ainz's last comment specifically caught my attention:

[AinzOoalGown]

I'd like to talk to you later if possible, Devas. There's something I've been meaning to ask for some time, as well as a request. It doesn't have to be now—I still have something I need to think through.

(Skeleton emoji crossing its fingers under its chin.)

I paused my fingers and my control over the Shadowflame. Kneeling near the floor, drawing a matrix with my finger engulfed in purple flames in one of Proto-A's hallways, I looked at the message—emerging from a small tomb—for a few seconds.

"Sure, just give me a heads-up and I'll create a private chat," I replied, shrugging casually. I didn't know what the leader of Nazarick's Tomb wanted; it came out of nowhere. Still, I didn't think it would be something that would bother me.

A conversation was just a conversation, and any request he made could easily be refused if it was something absurd. My only question was whether I'd be talking to Ainz Ooal Gown or Satoru Suzuki, but I supposed I'd find out soon enough.

A few minutes later, as the first rays of sunlight began peeking through the storm clouds on the horizon, Serafall took the chance to send a message, saying she wanted to "spend" one of the two questions from our previous agreement, in exchange for the two bags: one of angel feathers and another of fallen angel feathers.

[MagicalGirlSera-Tan]

Greenie, Red, and I discussed a bit and decided what to ask you.

(Emote of a devilish magical girl pulling one of two cards from her pocket)

I slapped away the little devil carrying Serafall's message as it flew toward me, watching it burst into flames against Proto-A's wall.

"Now? Do you want me to create a private chat?" I asked, clapping the dust off my hands and glancing at the nearest window. I really needed to replace those panes. Most of the sunrise had been swallowed by the black clouds... Such a shame...

Before Serafall could respond, several "pings" echoed from the minimap's edge—nine in total, one for each of the nine green dots that had appeared in the area.

Moments later, another message from Serafall zoomed past me, shining in a star-shaped burst from a magical wand.

[MagicalGirlSera-Tan]

We can continue this later. Seems like you've got company. Remember: don't fall for that dryad's words. The only supernatural being allowed to charm you is me~

(Emote of a magical girl slipping a card back into her pocket)

I scoffed and ignored Serafall's message, walking through Proto-A's corridors until I reached the ship's exit gate. The number of green dots on the minimap was higher than I had expected. For a moment, I even stopped to mentally tally the number of people I knew in Terraria who could be considered allies.

Dylan, Robyn, Selina, and Gilbert made four. Melissa and Darnell, six. But who were the other three? The answer, which I had already suspected, came after a few minutes of waiting—time I used to eat a simple breakfast of a few cereal bars and a glass of juice. Helena, Charlotte, and, surprisingly enough, a small wooden doll radiating the same mana as Alalia completed the nine dots.

The first to run up to me as they entered the clearing was Robyn's fox. It climbed the Proto-A's ramp and rubbed against my legs. I ran my fingers through the animal's soft fur before standing and walking toward the group, who stood awestruck in the distance, staring at the ship behind me.

Selina, in particular, looked on the verge of fainting, having a stroke, an orgasm, and a heart attack all at once, staring at Proto-A as if it were some kind of forbidden divine idol.

"If she dies for any reason, I'm not taking responsibility," I said, half-joking, half-serious, pointing at the Steampunker.

The way I could hear her heart racing was starting to concern me. The constricted pupils, subtle twitches in her eyes, and slightly parted lips weren't good signs either.

My words were enough to snap almost everyone back to reality. Dylan was the first to react, glancing at Selina. His eyes briefly glowed blue before he shook his head and sighed, ignoring the Steampunker's state. Then he walked toward me.

"She'll be fine—physically, at least. Her mind, not so much, but that's been the case since birth, so don't worry about it," he said with a dismissive wave, approaching. After a handshake and a quick "good morning," Dylan glanced at Proto-A and asked, "So... what is that thing?"

I looked over my shoulder at the ship before replying, "In short?"

"I think I'll regret asking for the detailed explanation, so yeah."

"It's called Proto-A." I pointed over my shoulder with my thumb, indicating the ship. "Think of it as the Humvee—just bigger and cooler."

Dylan blinked. "Less briefly, ple—" He was cut off by what sounded like a high-pitched scream mixed with a moan. Selina was responsible for the noise.

The Steampunker ignored my presence and Dylan's as she bolted toward the Proto-A. She began examining the ship's exterior and interior, circling it at an impressive speed. From the mechanical whirring and the faint hiss of steam I could hear emanating from her, it seemed Selina was using the exoskeleton under her clothing to boost her speed.

She kept at it for about a minute, murmuring countless words so quickly and softly that even with my enhanced senses, I could barely catch any of them. Then she stopped, staring at the ramp as though she wanted to enter the ship but didn't dare, and turned to face me.

"This…" She hesitated, glancing at the Proto-A as if carefully choosing her words. "This grand and incredible mechanical marvel… It flies, doesn't it? The shape of the hull, the stability matrices etched into the metal, and the way the wheels appear retractable all suggest that… It's a flying vessel, isn't it? Better than a zeppelin—far better…"

Her explanation spilled out in a single, rapid sentence. Selina seemed nearly to drool as she spoke, her gaze glassy and somewhat deranged. Her fingers twitched slightly, spasming now and then, and her breathing was a bit ragged. I was almost certain I saw her thighs rub together once or twice.

...This one had been a lost cause for some time now.

("She reminds me of Miss Rose, but more unhinged and with a sexual proclivity for machines.") Ozma's voice echoed in my mind, his tone amused.

I had to hold back a snort at the old wizard's comment. Not that I disagreed with him.

"I'd make a joke about it being just a water-bound vessel, but I don't think you'd buy that." Selina huffed, raising a single expectant eyebrow.

Maybe it was my sadistic streak talking, but I waited to answer, letting silence fill the air for a few seconds. When Selina looked like she was about to pounce on me, barely holding herself together, I finally responded: "Yes, the Proto-A flies. I can show you later if you want."

My confirmation made her freeze for an entire second.

"I… No, I'm nowhere near worthy." I heard her murmur in a dazed tone before her eyes focused on me, gleaming with a mixture of insane determination and fervor: "I'll offer the entire SteamHord family and everyone in it as slaves if you let me fully study the ship."

The sound of palms hitting faces echoed behind me—three, which I assumed belonged to Dylan, Melissa, and Robyn. The others' reactions varied from stifled laughter to dry coughs of disbelief and surprise, or even choking noises.

"You do realize I'll let you study the Proto-A without asking for anything in return, right?" Hadn't I done the same with the Humvee? Was she completely out of her mind?

No, I'd sense outright madness from a mile away. She was a bit unhinged, sure, but not entirely insane…

"I stand by my offer. Do you want a blood contract?"

"I don't want your family as slaves."

"She can't even offer that," the Oakwood matriarch spoke for the first time since arriving. She stepped forward to stand beside her son, just behind me. "Selina isn't the head of her family."

"Yet! I'm not the head of my family yet! It's only a matter of time!"

"The last I checked, your parents were alive and very healthy."

Before Selina could throw the idea of familial murder on the table, I turned to the rest of the group. The Steampunker wore her usual style of clothing—designed to accommodate the exoskeleton she wore under the fabric—but with longer details. The others, however, were dressed in entirely different outfits than usual: thicker clothing suited for colder weather.

It wasn't quite what the people of WinterHord wore, nor what we had worn while there, but it was clearly distinct from typical casual attire. It looked like something you'd see in early winter on Earth. Furthermore, the clothing was elegant: the fabric was finely crafted, and the Mystic Symbols, along with the dye used on them, were of excellent quality.

My simple attire seemed a bit out of place at the moment, but that was fine… I didn't even feel the cold.

I ignored the looks everyone was giving me and focused on the doll the princess was clutching to her chest. A simple doll made of intertwined branches, with leaf hair and pinecone eyes.

"Alalia." I greeted the dryad's effigy with a nod.

"Devas." A melodic and gentle voice echoed through the breeze around us.

I noticed Dylan shudder slightly in the corner of my vision, his muscles tensing visibly, while everyone else unconsciously relaxed. Even the princess, who had been the tensest while observing me with a slightly fearful gaze, showed clear signs of easing upon hearing Alalia's voice.

I exchanged a quick glance with Dylan. His eyes glowed with a soft, almost imperceptible blue hue, but no words escaped his tightly pressed lips.

...It seemed he found Alalia's authority as disturbing and intimidating as I did.

I clapped my hands twice, drawing everyone's attention.

"Well, can we continue the introductions inside the Proto-A? I don't know about you, but I'm feeling a bit cold out here." An obvious lie which, judging by Robyn's huff, Gilbert's laugh, and the looks the others gave me, was easily recognized.

Not that I was trying to hide it—it was just an excuse to move the conversation elsewhere...

[…]

POV: Charlotte A'Elise of Valmont

I had been warned, but that warning was nowhere near enough to prepare me...

It was like standing before a massive dormant volcano. A calm sea, hiding something immense and slumbering in its depths. A radiant sun, whose warm light cast a shadow as vast as itself, as cold as...

For the first time since this strange, unpleasant, and repulsive storm began, I felt it was insignificant. It didn't encompass the entirety of my kingdom's surroundings. Small, somehow, compared to the man before me.

Devas was completely different from how I remembered him during our last encounter. Beyond his appearance being distinct, with longer hair tied back in a style that strongly reminded me of many Beastikins, an elastic held most of his black hair in a short ponytail behind his head, while the rest fell around his face, stopping just above his jawline.

He also had a light, neatly trimmed beard that gave him a more mature air, more so than he already exuded. The serious look on his face was the same as I remembered. But despite all this, the biggest difference was his strength.

He had been strong back then, with great potential, but now? This...

Aunt Helena and Hirael, the old royal mage, were the two individuals with the most mana in the kingdom. I'd say they were the two strongest in the entire realm, except for Alalia. But even they seemed small compared to Devas. The only being I could compare him to would be Alalia herself, but I had never actually felt the dryad's mana to make that comparison.

The most impressive part was how all that immense amount of mana was smoothly contained beneath his skin. I could only sense Devas' mana when I got close enough—a distance so short that, given the sheer amount he possessed, I should have been able to feel it clearly from my bedroom, lying on my bed.

...Even with all the Mystic Symbols on the palace walls.

Frankly, I didn't understand how anyone capable of sensing mana didn't seem tense or outright panicking. Dylan even appeared more relaxed around Devas than near me! That made no sense whatsoever.

I took several deep breaths to calm myself, even after Alalia's soft voice helped considerably in that regard, as we walked through the metallic corridors adorned with thousands—perhaps tens of thousands—of Mystic Symbols in this strange vessel, which, according to Selina, should be capable of flight.

I had my doubts about that, but Aunt Helena hadn't contradicted the SteamHord heir's words, nor had Dylan, the most intelligent and knowledgeable person I had ever met. I also hadn't stopped to examine the matrices, focusing instead on not appearing foolish or having a panic attack. So, I remained silent, especially after Devas confirmed Selina's words.

Contradicting the man guiding us was not on my agenda...

Even with Alalia's doll in my arms, I didn't have that confidence in myself. The dryad had already instructed us not to antagonize Devas. If she—whom I was certain was the strongest being in the world—advised us so, I wasn't about to oppose someone who seemed to be the second strongest.

The walk was quick, but I still had enough time to observe my surroundings. I wasn't as knowledgeable about Mystic Symbols as Dylan, much less as Aunt Helena, but as a princess and mage, I knew far more than the vast majority of Terrarians—perhaps even more than Selina, who seemed to drool over everything around her.

...I wished it wasn't literally.

The Mystic Symbols seemed unfinished, almost like sketches or prototypes, burned superficially into the metal. They also weren't painted with dyes. —An unfinished work? Probably...—I thought.

I didn't know the details, but based on what I had learned, Devas shouldn't have had this ship for long. At least a month—that was how long he had "disappeared," in Dylan's words, in WinterHord. Given the size of the vessel, if I could even call it that, the current work was impressively well-crafted and detailed for something in development for such a short time.

Perhaps the ship, Proto-A, as he had called it, simply hadn't been functional before. Or maybe it required many mana stones, or whatever fuel this metal monster used.

Selina might call it a marvel, but to me, this ship was more a war machine than anything else.

As my thoughts bounced around like slimes on a plain, we reached what seemed to be a sort of mess hall. It wasn't elegant at all, resembling the military barracks' cafeterias I had visited a few times, rather than anything found in the palace.

A mess hall made for soldiers in a ship that seemed built for war... Devas, for all intents and purposes, was an ally, but I didn't know if I liked this line of thought or not...

I instinctively pulled Alalia's doll closer to my chest when the man guiding us turned his gaze to me. I realized he was looking at the doll in my arms, just like the last time, only when he spoke to it.

"Before anything else: Alalia, I have a friend who is…" He hesitated briefly. "In the same situation as I am. Is she welcome?" Welcome?

The wind tousled everyone's hair, especially mine, as Alalia's voice replied: "You are welcome. If she is your friend, the hospitality extends; I can promise you that."

It was subtle. If I hadn't been paying close attention to Devas, I might not have noticed how he seemed to relax slightly at the dryad's confirmation. A second later, a golden adorned lamp appeared at his waist, and immediately after, a bed materialized beside him. It was an elegant, well-crafted piece with completely white sheets and a golden frame, but all of that paled next to the woman lying there.

She had dark blue skin and even darker black hair. Her pointed ears, similar to Alalia's, and her summer-white dress—contrasting sharply with her skin and hair—did a poor job of hiding her curves, whether of her chest, waist, or thighs. She also wore golden adornments: two earrings, chains on her wrists, and a necklace, almost like a collar.

The woman was undeniably beautiful, but her exotic appearance gave her an extra charm, enough for me to instinctively compare her to Alalia. The dryad was the only one who seemed to possess this abnormal, almost magical allure as well.

Before anyone could ask anything, Devas' shadow trembled for a moment, exuding a subtle but very, very strange aura.

"Is that?!..." Dylan's words trailed off as what seemed to be a tattoo on the woman's thigh—a hand with an orange eye—glowed, revealing itself beneath the white fabric.

The next second, she opened her eyes and blinked, looking slightly confused for a moment before stretching.

"You know, this is still strange, even for the second time..." Her voice was soft. For some reason, it reminded me of a teacher's tone.

The woman glanced around, her gaze lingering briefly on each of us, staying the longest on me and the doll in my arms, before looking down at herself and finally at Devas.

The look on her face at that moment reminded me a lot of Alalia's expression before she pulled off something that would undoubtedly irritate or embarrass me—often both. This time, however, her target didn't seem to be me. Devas seemed to notice this and stared at her. After what appeared to be a mental conversation between the two—or perhaps just an extended exchange of glances—the blue-skinned woman crossed her arms under her chest, her lips curling into a sulky pout.

"... Fine," she said simply and stood up.

The moment she rose, the bed disappeared. She turned and gave a noble bow, lightly tugging at the edge of her dress and tilting her upper body subtly.

"Pleasure to meet you all. I am Jinn, a friend and traveling companion of Devas." The woman, now identified as Jinn, lifted her gaze. Mischief sparkled in her eyes once more. "Devas has told me about you, especially the contracting group he's part of. He holds you all in high regard and fondness. Thank you for taking care of him."

Devas's awkward cough was accompanied by a soft blush that spread across his cheeks. It lasted only a brief instant, but for a moment, he appeared flustered.

The merchant Gilbert's laughter filled the room a second later, followed by Devas's resigned sigh as he glared at Jinn.

"What? I didn't lie." She stuck out her tongue at him, a playful giggle escaping her lips. Devas sighed a second time.

"I suppose this is my fault here..."

"A dryad?" Aunt Helena stepped forward, taking charge. The answer came from the doll in my arms.

"No... She's not a dryad." Alalia leapt from my chest, landing gracefully on the floor. With quick steps, she approached Jinn. The two regarded each other for a moment. "A spirit? No, not entirely. You're not natur—"

Her words froze mid-sentence as she abruptly fell silent, covering her mouth with her hands. Jinn seemed to understand what she was about to say and finished the thought:

"Not naturally born?"

The doll glanced at Devas for an instant before turning back to Jinn, nodding slowly.

"No. I am a creation. I presume I'm different from the spirits of this world?"

"Not entirely, but different enough that the distinction is obvious—at least to me. I don't think anyone else in this world would notice." The doll tilted her head to the side and extended one of her small arms upward. "Pleasure to meet you, Jinn. I'm Alalia, but I believe you already knew that."

"I did, but it's a pleasure to meet you." The woman knelt, adjusting her white dress, and clasped the doll's hand gently.

"Wait, from this world?!" My voice escaped before I could think. I felt everyone turning toward me. Were it not for my years as a reigning princess, I might have been embarrassed, but instead, I merely gave a faint cough, composed myself, and continued: "Apologies for my outburst; I was just surprised."

"You didn't tell them?" Devas shifted his gaze to the doll on the floor, who somehow managed to blush.

"I forgot..." She smacked one of her tiny hands against her head, causing a pink flower to bloom where it hit. Then she explained: "It's not my fault! I was so happy yesterday that I completely forgot!"

Devas pinched the bridge of his nose. I glanced around. I wasn't the only one noticing something strange...

"Am I to presume my son and his group are aware of what Alalia is referring to?" Aunt Helena stepped closer to me and addressed Devas.

Dylan, Robyn, Gilbert, and Selina showed no reaction to the revelation. Well, Selina for different reasons, but still...

"A correct assumption, Duchess Oakwood." Devas addressed Aunt Helena by her title, his voice respectful but devoid of submission. "Here's what we'll do: it's still early. Have you eaten yet?"

"We were planning to on the way back," Dylan replied. "At least our group; I'm not sure about the others."

"I haven't had the chance," I answered with a gentle nod. Devas continued:

"Perfect. I'll prepare something for us to eat, since you're in my..." He looked around. "Home, for lack of a better word. I don't want to be a poor host. In the meantime, Alalia and Jinn can explain everything to you."

"I can help. I know how to cook, and I already know everything anyway." Robyn stepped forward, holding the white fox in her arms.

"I'd offer my help, but I'm afraid of what Selina might do," Dylan commented next.

"I'm free as well, if you'd like," said the merchant.

"... Fine." Devas turned to me. "Is this arrangement acceptable, Princess?" I froze for a moment.

"You've known all along?" My clothes weren't that different from everyone else's, and he hadn't recognized me last time.

"Not the first time, but someone who sat as an equal with the Duchess of Symbols had to be important. It only took me two minutes of research to figure out who you were." His response came easily.

He continued after a moment: "Apologies for any lack of manners. I'm not accustomed to dealing with nobility, let alone royalty." For an instant, his expression seemed peculiar.

I absorbed his words. They made sense. Any decent library would have a book on my family's history, including an attached painting of all members since the kingdom's founding—myself included.

After a few seconds, I replied, "Please, just treat me like everyone else here. Aunt Helena and I came only to talk; I didn't plan to discuss any official matters."

If he noticed the nuance in my words, he didn't comment, merely nodding as he snapped his fingers. A set of finely crafted utensils, plates, and glasses appeared on the large table nearby, along with drinks and a few appetizers.

"Please, have a seat. I'll be back in a few minutes." The fox woman and the merchant followed Devas into the kitchen.

A few seconds later, the dryad and the spirit began explaining the entire situation.

[…]

POV: Devas Asura.

Fuck Jinn and her ideas. At least I managed to stop her from saying she was my slave. I could feel the malice in her gaze as soon as she fixed her eyes on her chains.

Still, she managed to embarrass me a bit. I should've thought this through — it was obvious she wasn't going to give up so easily...

("You have dozens of dishes ready in your inventory, why are you cooking?") Ozma's voice echoed in my head.

("I don't feel like explaining the whole situation to everyone again.") I replied, not lying.

("You delegated that responsibility to Jinn?")

("Exactly!")

I could feel some kind of happiness — maybe even pride — radiating from Ozma. He did the same with Glynda, didn't he?...

Maybe Salem was right, and we had more in common than I'd like to admit.

"Any dish in mind?" Gilbert asked. "And before I forget..." He gave me two light taps on the shoulder. "You handled the princess well. It's not every day someone shrugs in the presence of the royal family."

The last royalty I met was sliced by me dozens of times...

I kept my thoughts to myself and replied: "It's not that hard when she's not actually my princess." I shrugged. "Any clues? I'm sure she and Dylan's mother didn't just wake up and decide to visit me. What's the deal?"

I spun the air around us and Robyn, isolating the sound. Alalia could probably hear, but I wasn't too concerned about that.

"We don't know." Robyn answered, her tails swaying slowly behind her. Her white fox weaved between my legs and Robyn's. Where was the owl, by the way?...

She continued after a second: "We were just as surprised as you. Dylan suggested we come here when we woke up since you said you wouldn't be back until later. The Duchess of Symbols and the princess met us halfway and decided to come along."

[AdvocateOfGenderEquality]

My experience with novels, anime, and manga tells me this is a problem. Royalty in a fantasy world almost always causes problems.

(Emote of a generic guy watching anime)

I agreed with Kazuma. The princess might have said she didn't plan to discuss any official matters, but that didn't mean she couldn't or wouldn't. Chances are it's something involving the kingdom — about the sick or traitors. Even more likely to be something related to the storm.

... At least if that's the case, it aligns with my goals.

"Need help?" Gilbert started fiddling with the pots that had appeared from my inventory. I let him and Robyn take control of the kitchen.

I knew how to cook, but only the basics for myself.

"On the negotiation?" I asked. He nodded. "Maybe, but I don't think it'll be necessary. I appreciate the offer."

I didn't intend to bleed the crown dry — at least, not too much and not literally, like last time. Again, their goals aligned with mine. If I could get rid of that damn entity — that fucked-up eye — and the fucking cultists, that'd be enough for me.

But I'd gladly take any rare materials they had, of course...

"You're..." Robyn nudged me and pointed to the air. "You know?"

"On stream? Yeah. Almost always am. The camera's focused on me, don't worry. But they can hear you." I usually let the camera focus wherever the stream thought was best, but when I was near other people — especially those who knew about the stream — I made sure to keep it fixed on me.

I had accepted being an attraction, but that didn't mean the others had to be too.

Robyn looked around, a little tense, before sighing and relaxing.

"I don't know how you got used to this."

"It's basically practice." My response seemed enough for her, though I could tell she didn't agree.

Almost an hour later, the dishes were ready, and we returned to the table.

[...]---[...]

First of all, I didn't like this chapter, how it didn't progress. I had some end-of-year problems during Christmas, a family argument that really pissed me off, so I didn't have time to write, and the little time I had, I couldn't concentrate.

Apologies for the delay in the chapter. I'll make the next one better and less "stuck." Devas will start moving, and the next world is about 3/4 chapters away, maybe less.

I won't go on for too long. Have a good afternoon and happy reading!

Quick note: I just got back from my trip a few hours ago, which explains the lack of chapters. Sorry for not letting you know.

I wrote this chapter in my notebook. I hate writing on my phone, so the formatting might be similar to the other chapters I also wrote by hand. Let me know if you don't like it.

Have a good night and happy reading!

[...]---[...]

The breakfast was quick.

Neither Charlotte nor Helena brought up any serious matters. Everyone just ate and talked about lighter topics, probably leaving the "main issue," so to speak, for the end. I thought they — maybe even Melissa and Darnell — might ask or bring up the fact that I was an alien, but no.

Of course, there were glances; I could almost feel the surprise emanating from Charlotte and Helena, and what seemed to be a "Damn, I knew something was off!" from Melissa. If they were human, it would've been simple to sense their emotions, but since they weren't — and the emotions weren't negative, which would've made it easier — I couldn't.

Curiously, Darnell seemed to be the calmest. Something along the lines of, "Well, I still have to work tomorrow..." Frankly, his reaction was kind of amusing to me. I could see myself having the same reaction.

Most of the conversation was led by Selina, who asked me everything she could about the Proto-A: how the ship was made, the materials, its functionalities, and anything else she could think of.

To be honest, I held back on the information I gave. Not because I wanted to keep everything about the ship a secret — well, not entirely — but because I was afraid Selina might actually suffer something — be it a heart attack, a stroke, or an orgasm. Any of those were possible, and I didn't want any of them happening at my table while everyone was having breakfast, much less with the stream on.

Once the meal was over, I had a brief mental conversation with Jinn, and she got up to take Selina to see the Proto-A. Jinn was the best person to answer Selina's questions and keep her entertained. Melissa and Darnell ended up following the two a few seconds later, each for a different reason.

Melissa said she needed to clear her head and organize her thoughts. The envy on Charlotte's face was something the princess didn't even try to hide. It looked like she wanted to switch places with the nurse but knew she couldn't, no matter how much she might've wanted to.

Darnell simply followed Melissa, saying that whatever topic we were about to discuss was probably above his pay grade. That, and he wanted to see if he could learn a few things to use in his weapons.

Jinn seemed pleased to accompany the four away from the dining room.

("I'll keep an eye on them. Use our connection to ask me anything if you have doubts. The mark's 'battery' is full; it should last for a few hours.") Her voice echoed in my mind.

("Just keep an eye on Selina. Melissa and Darnell aren't my real concern. And don't let her go to the control room!") I shot my thoughts back at her.

With a mental chuckle, heard only by me, she and the other three left the room. I could still sense them — the air flow around them, the sound of their steps, and the mana — but I didn't focus on it.

After the four left, I cleared the table with a gesture, pulling everything into the VoidBag. Everyone fell silent for a moment. I looked around. Gilbert and Robyn didn't seem inclined to follow the others outside and remained seated to my left, even though they chose to stay silent, probably because they had the least "status" in the room.

Well, theoretically, I was a beggar, so I had the least status, but fine.

The same went for Dylan, who stayed to my right, facing his mother, while I was facing the princess and Alalia. The dryad remained in her doll-like form, which I assumed was for the safety of others.

The dryad had created a small wooden chair attached to the edge of the table and sat there, eating far more than the small doll-like body could possibly hold. It was impressive, in a way.

The first to speak was Charlotte.

"First of all, I must welcome you." She placed one hand over the other elegantly. "Welcome to Terraria, Devas. I hope my kingdom has treated you well since your arrival."

"Formalities?" I asked.

"You are not just someone from another country but from another world. I believe formalities are necessary." Her response was reserved. "I imagine you'd want an ambassador's visa."

"Not at all." Her expression was odd, which amused me a bit. For some reason, Helena didn't seem surprised by my answer. "I like how things are currently. Even if it's just an empty title, I don't want more responsibilities than I already have."

Translation: I already have too many problems; don't screw me over by piling more onto my shoulders, thank you very much.

"And didn't you say you hadn't planned on any official matters?"

"That was before I learned you were an ali—" She corrected herself before finishing the word. "Someone from outside this world. I'm afraid that forced me to rethink my plans."

"Fair enough." I shrugged and clasped my hands, resting my elbows on the table. "And the word 'alien' doesn't bother me. That's what I am to you."

"I felt it might sound offensive."

"It's not, don't worry." I didn't care much about it.

"... Alright. Miss Jinn and Alalia gave us a brief explanation of the matter, but I still have some questions. Would it be possible for you to answer them?"

I responded with a silent nod. Charlotte hummed to herself for a moment before speaking again.

"This technology." She pointed around. "Is it something common in the world you came from? I mean, your home world."

"In parts, yes. But this ship is from Jinn's world, not mine," I replied.

Jinn had explained my situation, which included hers as well. I noticed she didn't mention anything about the stream — neither Dylan nor anyone else from my group had brought it up, by the way. Thus, Charlotte wasn't surprised when I said Jinn's home world and mine were different.

The princess nodded before looking at Helena. The two exchanged a glance for a moment, with Oakwood's mother giving a subtle nod. Charlotte turned back to me.

The next questions varied.

Could I bring more people, as I had brought Jinn? My answer was: "Maybe." Jinn was a special case, but with the Pylons — which I didn't reveal — it would theoretically be possible.

Not that I'd do it, for obvious reasons.

The third question was whether everyone of my race — humans, whose name sounded strange in her language, I noticed — was like me, as strong as I was.

("She wants an army. Either that, or she's worried about an invasion.") Ozma spoke in my mind.

("Both are equally likely.") I responded mentally. ("Frankly, I don't think she needs one, with Alalia by her side.")

("Relying on one person alone for the kingdom's safety is foolish. As powerful as Miss Alalia may be, from her perspective, the kingdom was still drowning in blood.") Ozma reminded me.

("And I still want to know how the hell that happened...")

I paused the mental conversation and answered the princess with the truth: "There are stronger and weaker humans. I don't consider myself anywhere near the top."

That was the plain truth, from my perspective and knowledge. Ozma chose not to comment, but many in the (CHAT) strongly disagreed. I disagreed with them. I knew the monsters that existed; they didn't.

[BrowCranwen]

This guy doesn't consider himself near the top... I must be closer to a worm than I thought.

[So-Tan]

On a global scale, no, but for humans, in my opinion, you're at the top.

[TheBestAndMostBeautifulThief]

I must be made of wet paper, then...

I ignored the comments that appeared as cards in front of me. Charlotte didn't seem to believe my answer, judging by her expression. Neither did Helena, but neither of them insisted. Alalia was content to stay silent and watch, as were the Terrarians on my side of the table.

After a few more questions, she reached the topic I had been expecting.

"Do you intend to help us with this current situation?" The words carried a hint of trepidation. "If not, what would it take to change your mind?"

I noticed Helena furrowed her brow for a moment but chose not to comment. I had an idea why. Charlotte seemed desperate, not even waiting for my response before offering something in exchange for my help.

She had been the acting princess for quite some time, frequently dealing with nobles, as I had briefly researched. For that reason, I doubted she didn't know how to "play the game." I couldn't understand why she was giving away cards like this for free…

"With the storm, the sick, or the traitors?" I asked.

"All of it."

I thought for a moment before answering: "I have a few conditions—three in total—but yes, I do intend to help Terraria." Not just because it was the best option for me as well, but because I had friends here. This was their home.

"What conditions?" she asked after a moment, her voice carrying a more regal tone than before. "Name them. If they are within my reach, I shall grant them."

Unclasping my hands, I replied after organizing my thoughts:

"First: information." I raised one finger on my right hand. "There's some information I want that I couldn't find in a library or by asking Dylan. I feel the Crown or the Order of Guides might possess it."

It was brief, but I noticed a flicker of what seemed like anger—or something similar—in Helena's gaze when I mentioned the Order of Guides. I mentally filed that away under "There's definitely something fishy here." Charlotte didn't take long to respond.

"I imagine you'd rather say what information after the fact?" she asked. I nodded. "Very well. I cannot promise I will have it, let alone speak on behalf of the Order of Guides, but I will do my best to obtain it. What is your second condition?"

My gaze briefly landed on Alalia.

"Alalia—"

"If my body is required for your assistance, I would gladly make that sacrifice." The small wooden doll spread her arms wide.

I ignored the messages in the (CHAT), Robyn's amused huff, Charlotte's scandalized gasp, Gilbert's restrained laughter, and Dylan's sigh—which was synchronized with his mother's across the table. Both even brought their hands to their foreheads in the same way.

"It's my fault; I should've expected this," I said, just as with Jinn. "You seem happier, more relaxed," I commented.

In our conversation yesterday, she had been tense, walking on eggshells. Now, even in her doll body, she seemed more at ease, even teasing me.

"I am happier," she agreed with a quick nod. "Hopeful."

"Something to do with your conversation yesterday?" Helena spoke for the first time. She looked at the wooden doll before turning to me.

"Something like that. We just talked about the future." It wasn't a lie, but I preferred not to go into detail.

I quickly returned to the main point, raising a second finger.

"My second condition is materials. I want to acquire some possible resources. Just like with the information, we can discuss this later and reach an agreement."

I had a bit of palladium from Pink's armor. It was different from the palladium I kept in the VoidBag, in almost every way—stuff I'd picked up in HOTD and Remnant. I wanted to check if cobalt or any other HardMode ore was the same. Cobalt was easy to acquire on Earth, but in Terraria, it should be rare.

Of course, it wasn't just that. Plants, fish, dyes, and any other material that could be useful also interested me.

Charlotte merely nodded and remained silent, waiting for me to finish. I raised a third finger on my right hand.

"My third and final condition is this: I want to see the prisoners on death row or the most heinous criminals the kingdom has."

Charlotte wasn't the only one surprised by the request. Everyone turned to stare at me with varying degrees of shock, the least affected being Alalia and Dylan.

"I need to know why," the princess replied after recovering.

Before answering, I stretched my right arm, palm up, toward the center of the table. Everyone followed the motion with their eyes. After a second, I brought my Aura to life, forcing a light pulse through it, enveloping my entire arm in the bluish-gray tone of my soul.

"Ohhhh! So that's why your soul's outline looked different!" Doll-Alalia exclaimed, jumping from the tiny chair she was seated in. Without wasting time, she ran over to my arm, poking my Aura with her finger and causing it to ripple slightly.

"This is Aura, something I managed to awaken in Jinn's world," I explained while the dryad continued to touch my hand. "In short: it's the physical manifestation of my soul, a shield that covers my body and is fueled by my soul."

This time, Dylan spoke first. I could feel mana pulsing in his eyes, even without turning to look.

"What are the benefits and drawbacks?" His tone was restrained but noticeably eager. I noted his left hand trembling slightly, as though he could barely stop himself from grabbing a pen or pencil to take notes.

"Besides the barrier, which can withstand a considerable amount of damage depending on the person, there's an increase in all physical parameters, including the body's natural regeneration, and the awakening of a Semblance. Well, most of the time," I explained briefly.

I knew some people never awakened their Semblances in their lifetime, but those were isolated cases. The vast majority eventually discovered theirs.

"And what about the disadvantages? Well, I'd say there aren't many, aside from your emotions becoming more 'visible,' easier to sense for any being already capable of such a thing." Like the Grimm or my Nightmares.

However, there was the fact that having a part—even an external one—of your soul exposed probably made it easier for any enemy capable of damaging souls to attack. I knew a few who could do that in Terraria, especially in the Corruption. Still, the benefits far outweighed the drawbacks.

Helena was next to speak: "There weren't any Terrarians in the world your companion came from, were there?" I nodded. She furrowed her brow slightly before her eyes widened. "You want to use the prisoners as experiments." It wasn't a question.

"Theoretically, any living being with a soul can awaken Aura… But, as you said, there weren't any Terrarians in Remnant—the name of Jinn's world. I'd rather the first person I help awaken Aura be a criminal whose soul collapsing or exploding wouldn't bother me than one of my friends…" I let my voice trail off at the end of the sentence and glanced around for a moment.

Across the table, Charlotte's face was set in a frown, which faded after a sigh, as though she had come to a conclusion. Helena simply appeared thoughtful, showing little emotion on her face.

Alalia continued poking and examining my Aura with great interest.

On my side of the table, reactions were more varied: Gilbert's brow was slightly furrowed in concern, as though he didn't approve of the idea of human—or Terrarian—experimentation. The man had undergone something similar in Jille, so I could understand his hesitation. But he chose silence over words.

Robyn, like her father, seemed to be struggling with some internal conflict, though hers was much lighter and brief. I noticed her waving at me for some reason I couldn't comprehend as she gently placed a hand on her father's shoulder.

To my right…

"How confident are you that Aura is compatible with Terrarians? After all, we're from different worlds and races."

...Dylan didn't seem affected in the slightest.

His eyes glowed the usual blue hue they always did when he used his innate magic. His brow wasn't furrowed, nor did he appear disgusted by my proposal. None of them did, really—just varying degrees of disagreement. But Dylan simply didn't seem to care, for one reason or another.

"Quite confident. As I said, theoretically, anything with a soul can awaken Aura." Ruby's damn dog had Aura. "My precautions are just for the worst-case scenario." Messing with souls was serious business, and I wouldn't take it lightly.

Even though I had Ozma and Jinn to assist me—the two most experienced people in Remnant regarding Aura—I still preferred testing it on someone who deserved to be dead long ago rather than on any of the people at this table, especially those on my side.

"I…" Charlotte began, then hesitated. "You mentioned something about a Semblance. What is that?" I noticed her shift the subject mid-sentence but chose not to comment.

"If I were to compare it to something in Terraria, it would be akin to innate magic." The surprise was evident in almost everyone. The only one who didn't react was Alalia.

"It varies from person to person. Some can run at speeds far beyond others; others can absorb damage and return it; still others can create clones, turn into smoke, or craft illusions. I know someone who can even create glyphs, something akin to Mystic Symbols." More like Runes, really, but close enough.

Each member of Team RWBY, along with Neo and Roman, made a remark—be it an emote or a "He's talking about me!" when I mentioned their Semblances. I would've done the same with Penny and Qrow's, but the former didn't have one, and the latter's was too complicated to explain, so I left them out.

Saying his Semblance could be "bad luck" didn't seem all that polite, either.

"Do you… Devas, do you know what you're saying?" Gilbert touched my shoulder, speaking with a serious tone. He still looked worried, though I sensed it was for another reason. "No, forget that. Do you know what you could demand for this?"

"I'm fully aware."

"And yet you offer this knowledge for free?" I turned my gaze to Charlotte as she spoke. From the way she looked at me, it was as if I'd grown a second head or opened an eye in the middle of my forehead.

"Didn't I request information and materials?"

"No." Helena's tone was drier and more serious than before. She scrutinized me for a moment. "Your first two conditions were tied to Charlotte's request for help. The third is just to ensure the Aura awakening isn't dangerous. You didn't ask for anything in return."

I stared silently at the duchess. She held my gaze. It was impressive to know she was Gilbert's age—nearly sixty—when she barely looked thirty.

After a second, I replied, "It's true, I didn't ask for anything." I nodded and continued in a neutral tone: "What do you think I should ask for then, Helena? Millions of gold coins? The rarest materials in the kingdom? A vast piece of land? Or should I follow Selina's suggestion and demand slaves, maybe even the princess's hand in marriage? Think I'd make a good king?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Charlotte shrink back at my words.

I stared at Dylan's mother for a few more seconds before sighing and averting my gaze. I poked Alalia's doll on the forehead, noticing she had stopped manipulating my Aura when Helena began speaking, then withdrew my hand, interlocking my fingers once more.

"I don't want anything. Not for this." I stated. I could negotiate for other things or simply get what I wanted on my own. "Get the information and some materials I asked for and help me; that's payment enough."

"…Help with what?"

I turned to the princess, who had asked.

The shadows under the table darkened and filled with eyes. Only Dylan and Alalia seemed to notice the change—glancing down briefly. I pointed my finger in the direction opposite the kingdom… before answering.

My voice came out deceptively neutral—to me, at least, though it echoed throughout the Proto-A. Judging by some reactions at the table, something must have slipped through.

"To kill whatever's in that storm."

The truth was, there was nothing I wanted more than to kill that Eye.

[…]

"Are you stereotyping this dungeon by any chance?" I asked. The whole place was dark and dimly lit, though well-maintained. There wasn't a single cobweb or speck of dust. Even rats and cockroaches were nonexistent, as far as I could tell.

Still, the environment felt very much like a dungeon from some medieval fantasy kingdom. The same could be said for WinterHord. The difference was that this one had far more Mystic Symbols on its walls, ceiling, and floor—some of which I didn't even recognize. I committed those to memory.

"Uh… no? I think?" Charlotte looked momentarily confused, turning to glance at me. Her face was illuminated by the small orb of light floating beside her. "It's the standard design for dungeons throughout the kingdom. At least, the ones sanctioned by the crown are like this. Prisons for minor crimes are different and located above ground."

I accepted the explanation at face value, shrugged, and continued following Charlotte, who led the way to the prison for the kingdom's most heinous criminals.

We weren't alone: Dylan, Helena, and Alalia were with us.

Melissa had opted out due to work. She'd also mentioned hating dark and cold places, likely a trait picked up in WinterHord, so she probably wouldn't have come anyway. Out of everyone, the nurse seemed to be struggling the most with the recent "revelations," so to speak.

Darnell, like Melissa, had gone to the hospital—heading for his patrol shift. The man had briefly spoken with me before we arrived at the kingdom, asking for advice on improving his equipment. I saw no reason not to help him.

Robyn and Gilbert had different reasons: knowledge and status. The dungeon we were in lay directly beneath the palace—or almost. It was slightly to the north, under part of the palace and one of the Guild's bases, but that was a minor detail.

Even though they were my party members and, if I pressed the issue, neither Charlotte nor Helena would object, they didn't have the "status" to be here. Only a select few held that privilege: the royal family, the Oakwoods' matriarch, the royal mage, and a handful of others. Dylan and I were exceptions.

I also didn't think it appropriate to ask them to accompany me, even though father and daughter said they would if I needed their help. Robyn had gained some experience in WinterHord and now with the storm, but she wasn't really a contractor and had no real reason to be here.

Gilbert was different, but the old merchant had work to do—something that had recently increased due to the kingdom's events. He had struck several deals, including one with Dylan's mother, and was now supplying provisions to various areas of the realm, including the "city" that had formed around the walls.

Lastly, Selina. The Steampunker had stayed aboard Proto-A with Jinn. The former was in an almost manic state of insight, muttering to herself while sketching prototype models and designs in a small notebook she had pulled from her Travel Space. Meanwhile, the latter supervised Selina, monitoring for anything unusual in the surrounding mana or in the storm itself.

"By the way, can I take a look at some of the sick people later?" This flu epidemic smelled of something worse. "I've got a useful skill for that. A larger and improved version of analysis magic."

"My daughter and Alalia found nothing," Helena pointed out. Her tone wasn't accusatory, but it seemed to ask: even knowing this, did I still believe something might be there?

"I know, but it's better to be sure."

Aside from being more sensitive to foreign things, I also had the stream to assist me. If it turned out to be nothing, great; but if it was something, I'd rather burn it in the womb and stop whatever it was from being born.

"We can go to the central hospital afterward," Charlotte agreed with little resistance. Helena chose not to argue. Alalia, resting in her arms, nodded before her voice echoed softly in the surrounding wind.

"I don't think I missed anything, but I've been fooled before…"

After a few minutes of walking through dimly lit corridors and past several metal doors, we arrived at what seemed to be containment cells. They were reinforced with thick bars inscribed with Mystic Symbols. Each cell had a unique set of matrices, and every prisoner was shackled in chains similarly engraved with symbols—these varying chain by chain, prisoner by prisoner.

Some cells had glass walls, others bars. Some were made of raw metal, with only a metallic door or a small window. A few were identical, others similar, and some entirely unique.

You know, thinking back, I'd associated the term "heinous crimes" with murder, rape, torture, and the like. But in a world where magic existed, that list could be far more extensive. Considering that all the prisoners here seemed essentially sealed away, that list was undoubtedly much worse as well…

It was almost instinctive. I pulled the Bone Helm from my inventory and placed it on my head. The widening of Dylan's eyes said he recognized where—and from whom—that item came. I ignored the four who were now staring at me with curiosity and suspicion and focused for a brief moment.

The shadows deepened. The light illuminating the environment grew frail.

"... Why are these people still alive?"

Not one of them had committed fewer than heinous crimes. Not one bore less than ten or more innocent lives on their conscience. None of them should still be breathing...

Sins. I could feel them. Each one.

The Shadowflame writhed within me. Hunger. It wanted me to use it. It pulsed just beneath my skin.

"Twenty-seven victims. Twenty-two children. Experiments with earth, crystal, and stone magic. Murder. Torture. Terrarian experimentation…" I looked at the cell to my right. A man stared back at me in terror, behind the glass. The air around me grew cold. "He wanted to create a golem as intelligent as a person. Something self-sufficient."

"'Children are more malleable. They adapt better.'" I spat the words. I could 'hear' them, 'read' them. His sins spoke to me. Whispers in a windless place. Dispersed words.

The color was purple.

I turned, my gaze passing over the four others present in the room. One shone blue, analytical and concerned. Another, light green, frightened. A third, brown, cautious. The wooden mask on the doll's face reflected recognition.

"Forty-nine victims. Twenty-three deaths. All women. Potions. Slow poisons. Murder. Torture. Poisoning. Slavery…" The woman in the cell recoiled, the chains clattering against the bars. "She envied every woman she killed. Loved watching them writhe, seeing their skin melt away."

"'Commoners and slaves should be as ugly as their roles in society.'" The words spilled out on their own. "She envies you two, Helena, Charlotte. Your beauty."

The corridor's chill turned dark. The light shifted to a purple hue.

"This flame…" I ignored Alalia's whisper and kept walking.

With every cell I glanced at, the Shadowflame grew frenzied. It followed the same path as something more innate within me. It flared outward. This hadn't happened in Remnant, even though I could see human sins much more clearly than Terrarian ones. An old job. An old memory.

An old habit.

Numbers began appearing in my mind. They rose and fell rapidly before stabilizing on specific digits.

"198 years, 4 months, 12 days, and 23 hours." A glass-walled cell. A man.

"126 years, 5 months, 8 days, and 1 hour." A metal, steel cell with no view. A woman.

"83 years, 2 months, 29 days, and 17 hours." A barred, steel cell. A woman.

"837 years, 9 months, 15 days, and 21 hours." A cell with no door, only a small window. Bronze. A man.

All monsters. Every single one of them. All the flame wanted.

I heard Ozma calling to me from within my Spiritual Realm, concerned. My response was simple: "I'm fine." The flame was part of me. It didn't want what I didn't want. I wasn't influenced; I was the one who influenced it.

Its whispers were words I wanted to hear. Words I would say. My will.

I stopped before a "common" cell. Metal bars. Mystic Symbols. An old, filthy man.

I stared at him. He trembled. My gaze didn't waver. His voice was muffled by the matrices on the walls. I read his lips. His pleas were ignored. Dylan's voice, however, I heard.

"Devas, my friend, my brother, look at me." I turned to him. Brown and a blue glint met brown and a purple glow. "You're not yourself right now. I don't know where that flame came from, but the rest… it's identical—or almost—to that deer. Is it you or the mask? Insanity?"

The concern in his voice danced around the fire, reaching me. He was a good man. His number was nonexistent. His sins, insignificant.

"I'm fine, Dylan. Don't worry. It's me. It's always me and will always be me."

My response reassured him. Not completely, but mostly. His trust in me was immense. He sighed in relief. Helena chose this moment to answer while Charlotte seemed frozen.

"Everyone here is serving a life sentence. This is the kingdom's worst prison."

"Why?"

"Lack of sufficient evidence to sentence them to death. Many also have influential families." She looked around, disgusted, before turning to me. "But you seem to know all their crimes."

"The fire knows. The flame knows. I know."

"The Shadowflame…" Alalia's voice made the environment lighter. Happier. She tilted her head, curious. "I didn't think it still existed. I couldn't sense it before. How did you acquire it?"

"W-what is that flame?" Charlotte clutched the doll against her chest. "I can feel it judging me."

I answered both questions simultaneously: "The fire of hell. I got it in Jille. Tamed it only in Remnant." I didn't elaborate further. I let them form their own ideas. I'd explain to Dylan later.

I glanced at the cells for a moment before a thought arose. I asked dryly: "And it didn't occur to you that, if they escaped, they'd be in the perfect spot? Beneath the palace and one of the Guild's main headquarters." I stared at Charlotte and Helena. "Every single one of them hates you two with everything they have."

"It's impossible—"

"As impossible as you talking to an alien?" I interrupted the duchess. "As impossible as that same alien killing another? In WinterHord."

She fell silent. I scoffed. Charlotte's eyes widened.

"The traitors of your vision, Alalia… Could they have?" Her voice was a barely audible whisper. Dylan was the only one who seemed confused. The duchess mirrored the princess's wide eyes as the doll in her arms responded.

"It's likely…" Alalia's words didn't confirm it, but the possibility was enough to tense both Helena and Charlotte. "Damn, it's very likely they freed them…"

"And even weakened, they'd cause some damage." That's if whoever freed them hadn't healed them first. I turned to the man in the cell. "Just another drop in the ocean of reasons I have to kill you."

He couldn't hear my words. I knew that. The cell's matrices blocked sound—on both sides, though they could be disabled—and vision, limited to the inside looking out. However, just as he could "feel" me, he could sense the intent behind my words.

He fainted.

I tore open the cell door with bare hands. The fire made him wake. Dense shadows shaped the eight black hands that lifted him into the air.

"You know, Marchel, how many you raped?" His name surfaced effortlessly—the flame whispered. My voice sounded delirious, even to me. "Do you know the exact number? Or should I say it?"

"No, please! It wasn't my fault, the maid seduced me!" His words disgusted me. Everything about him was repulsive.

"He lies." Charlotte's firm voice made my face turn. My gaze made her recoil momentarily, but she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "I remember him: Marchel Lyero, former lord of the Lyero family. We managed to charge him with slavery, tax evasion, murder, torture, and rape—nine victims, that last one."

Marchel tried to scream again, but one of the shadowy hands gripped his throat.

"Wrong, princess." I shook my head as the old man writhed in the air, terror etched into every muscle of his face. "You're good at hiding bodies. Hiding victims. Experienced…"

The number of victims had three digits.

"One hundred and twenty-three. You raped every single one of them. Men, women. Children, the elderly. And you enjoyed them all. You tortured each one."

The number the flame whispered had four digits.

Before anyone could intervene, my lips parted. A chant emerged from me. One of three. Two were born from the Shadowflame. The third was mine.

... Only mine.

"For it is in sin that we find our essence and ruin…"

Everyone in the prison froze. Most in fear. Three in shock. One in awe.

The old man became even more terrified. The purple fire rose.

"Through it, we become the personification of temptation and choice, shaping the shadows that devour the world's light…"

I dislike this role. But here, now, it was necessary. The flame is mine and always will be.

Sins are Sins.

"Infinite in corruption and unbound by redemption, I claim your soul and, by my hand…"

I could see it in his eyes: The fear. The man. The soul.

The first remained until the end.

The second burned in the fire.

The third the flame wanted in my Spiritual Realm. I denied it.

Hell awaited him.

"Condemn thee."

[...]---[...]

There are three chants that belong to the Devas. Two of them exist thanks to Shadowflame, a kind of "sharing," so to speak. The third is something entirely his. They will appear in the future.

Well, that said, I'm back from vacation, and the chapters will return to their regular schedule. Next chapter: January 9th.

Have a good night and happy reading!