[30 Minutes Earlier, Planetary Time]
"Yeah!!" The crowd erupted in thunderous cheers, their voices surging through the arena like a living tide as thousands of spectators celebrated the victory of the disciple nurtured by
The disciple raised her spear high, basking in the adoration as the last hurdle was cleared. Only one opponent remained—the student chosen by .
Lounging atop a luxurious red sofa in my private viewing booth above the stands, I plucked a grape from an ornate bowl of glass and gold, savouring its sweetness as the juice burst across my tongue. "Oh my, Idaten's produce is far better than I was told. Why don't you try some, Corvus?"
"I'm fine, High Empress." The hooded Zorain paced behind the sofa, visibly restless.
"With all that pacing, I'd say you're the complete opposite. You're going to ruin my grapes with all this tension." I popped another one into my mouth, relishing its ripened sweetness.
With a heavy sigh, Corvus finally planted his feet. "Forgive me. It's just... I don't understand how you can remain so calm, knowing the Traveler will be here today to claim the Empyrean. With his abilities, once he gets it, there's nothing stopping him from vanishing into the void again."
A smile tugged at my lips. "It's Pictor who seeks the Empyrean. I'm merely here as an ambassador. The acquisition is your responsibility, Zorain of Gold. But if another Kralscell tries to interfere, I'll act without hesitation to protect you."
"Thank you, High Empress. But there's something I still don't understand." Corvus circled around, kneeling before me between the bowl of grapes and my bare feet. "The order to capture the Traveler—it came from you, not the Zorain of Blacks. When he held me hostage... why did you let him go? That was the best chance we've had in seven thousand years—since the Zodiac War."
I paused, letting the grape I had just plucked drop back into the bowl. "That's your question, is it?"
"I know I've overstepped my bounds," Corvus said, bowing his head. "But only one other person knows how unpredictable the Traveler is. Yesterday may have been the only time we could have caught him. For all we know, he could be standing on the sun right now, waiting for a signal from his comrades."
I chuckled, remembering. "He's done that before. It's a miracle only his clothes were burned off. The reason I didn't capture him, Corvus, is because I value his friendship. That bond is already fraying while I protect you and your brother from his wrath, as per the terms of our agreement. I've lost hundreds of friends over the eons. Only a handful remain. I won't risk losing that rare smile of his just because I'm obsessed with him."
Corvus grimaced, his voice lowering. "His smile is a lie, Your Grace. Just like his existence. Even my brother—the one who found the homunculus—has no idea what truly generated him."
My smile vanished. Cold silence descended like a veil. "Leave. And never speak of this in my presence again. Or I will hand you to Strife myself."
"Yes... High Empress." Corvus rose and left without another word. A servant entered in his place, pushing a silver trolley stacked with the finest dishes Idaten-II had to offer.
The young waitress placed a plate before me—a steak glazed with ivy-seasoned butter, accompanied by an egg made from rare hybrid flora. "Excuse me, High Empress. Your lunch."
Her green hair drew my eye as she leaned forward to set the meal beside the grapes.
[Skill: Winter Overlord's Alteration, Activates!]
Purple veins pulsed across the walls of the room. Tendrils snaked around the waitress's limbs as she subtly reached for the wineglass, attempting to pour a fine dust into its surface.
"There's no need for the charade, [Witch Queen]."
"I'm afraid I don't understand your meaning, High Empress. This is merely a seasoning. A delicacy from Idaten, sent by my lords for your enjoyment." Her voice was calm—too calm—but I sensed the tremor in her legs beneath the skirt.
[Skill: Winter Overlord's Alteration, Constricts!]
The veins around her left arm constricted. Sharp splinters exploded across the floor as the puppet arm fractured. Wooden fingers dangled by twisted threads. Her eyes narrowed with growing annoyance.
"You Kralscells and your damned perception... I should have expected this. I wish I could say the same for [Harp's Last Tune] and [Black Grace of the Setting Sun], though."
"What were you trying to poison me with, [Witch Queen]?" The veins twisted tighter around her frame. The wooden joints groaned but held.
"A mild sedative. One your aether wouldn't register as hostile." With a slow twist of her wooden neck, she detached her puppet's head and turned it to face me. Her real voice echoed from within. "Tell me—where did I go wrong? Even [Traveler on a Journey] wouldn't have noticed me until it was too late."
I scoffed. "I'm the ruler of a pantheon. It would be irresponsible not to know what's in my food."
"Ahh, so... a sixth sense for killing intent? Plus lesser clairvoyance—what, a minute into the future?" Her eyes glinted with respect, and something more dangerous. "Such a precise weave of abilities. I was hoping to chat longer, but we're running out of time."
From beneath the arena, a towering red and gold pillar had cleaved the arena in two, sending shockwaves through the stands and burying the two final combatants beneath a mountain of stone and dust as it reached into the sky. Nobody moved. Nobody cheered. They didn't know how to interpret the spectacle unravelling before them.
"Hoohoohaahaa!" A wild, piercing laugh shattered the hush, shrill and mischievous, like a gleeful hyena dancing on a battlefield.
Atop the towering column stood a monkey-like man dressed in tiger-skin monk robes. He clutched his stomach, howling with laughter. "These are the best and have to offer? Hahaha! Hoohoohoo~! They didn't even notice me right in front of them!" He pounded his chest proudly. "Come on! Send down a real god to entertain me! Hah?! Anyone?!"
I shifted my gaze to [Witch Queen]. Her smile—it was smug, sickeningly amused, and it stoked a heat in my chest I hadn't felt in centuries.
"You think the [Mountain-Crowned Stone Monkey] is enough to stop me?"
"Certainly not you," she said, her puppet's wooden mouth creaking with faint delight. "But many of the other Kralscells? Absolutely."
A sudden pinch grazed the side of my neck. I slapped at it instinctively—and saw a moth flutter away.
"You—!"
I raised my hand, driving a spike of stone through the air. Corruption laced the spike as it caught the moth mid-flight, disintegrating it in an instant. But something was wrong.
My legs faltered.
My vision blurred, and I could feel my aether drawing back into my core, retreating as if the walls themselves were too heavy to maintain.
"What... what have you... done to me?"
The [Witch Queen's] broken puppet limped forward, dragging its mangled limbs across the floor like a corpse wearing its own death. It knelt before me, a wooden face locking eyes with mine, even as its strings frayed.
"Don't fret. Just the same sedative I mentioned before. A personal blend. Tested on a very stubborn little lab rat." Her tone was maddeningly casual. "Though, to be honest, I didn't expect it to take hold this quickly. You really must have weakened since the days of light and shadow."
I gritted my teeth, summoning what little strength remained to force the words out. "If you kill me... another war of light and dark will... begin."
"Strife would never forgive me if I killed you." The puppet tilted its head like a doll. "Even if you were the one who handed the boy over to Idaten's old gods. To be dissected. To be broken. All with your signature on the writ."
The venom in her words burned more than the drug.
"What... are you... after?" I managed.
"What any Crusader wants, High Empress," she whispered, voice cracking under a veil of fervor. "A shift. A change. A recalibration of this tired, crooked universe."
Then the puppet crumbled, shedding its false skin into a swarm of moths that scattered through the shattered air. Her laughter danced on the breeze like a funeral hymn. "You'll understand soon enough. Hahaha~!"
Through the cracked glass, I watched Corvus grappling with the monkey at the summit of the pillar. His green-blazing daggers moved sluggishly. He was fighting like a man underwater, desperately lunging at a foe who never stayed still.
Sun Wukong darted circles around him, chuckling as he danced from handstand to backflip. "Is this a game of tag, or are you just lonely, Zorain of Gold?"
Then, from above, an angel descended.
One of
He struck with divine force—clean, surgical. A blow that should have split the Monkey King in two. Instead, Wukong exploded into a cloud of shimmering golden mist. One strand of hair floated upward, caught by the wind.
"What?! Where did he—Ough!"
Reappearing instantly, Wukong crouched on the angel's shoulder, poking his temple with a mischievous grin. "Excuse me, sir. Did you happen to see a handsome monkey pass by? About this tall? Golden-brown fur? Beautiful face?"
"Get off me, ape!" the angel snarled, spinning in mid-air, already summoning a spiralling cyclone.
"Now, now. Let's be civilized!" With a sudden twist, Wukong kicked Corvus into the angel's face and used the recoil to flip backward into a flawless handstand atop the pillar once more. "No need to insult a monkey. That's like painting a pigeon white and calling it a dove."
The angel roared, his sword raised high. "I am an angel!"
He brought his blade down like divine judgment.
It didn't even leave a scratch.
The strike bounced harmlessly off the red-gold pillar. Wukong didn't flinch. His eyes twinkled with mock innocence. "Well, if you say so."
Gripping the pillar's edge, Wukong began to shrink it back to size, lifting it as though it were a mere staff. With a single, fluid spin, he swung it upward—smashing the angel skyward.
The force of the impact shattered the glass of my private viewing box. The shockwave carried warmth on the wind, the heat of Idaten's air washing over my face like a memory.
I saw the monkey laughing as he tumbled down.
Then, at last, my willpower—sore, spent, and broken—gave way. My eyelids slipped shut, and the drug dragged me into darkness.