Meanwhile, in the Divine Realm.
In a sky palace gleaming with gold and jade, like dawn over a sea of clouds.
A stunning blond youth lounged sideways on a blindingly ornate throne, swirling red wine like a lazy comet.
Before him sat a middle-aged man in Dark Demon robes, his face as stern as carved stone.
Minutes slid by like melting wax.
"God King, what should we do next?"
The middle-aged man finally broke the silence, his voice rough like gravel under ice.
That youth was the God King who ruled the Divine Realm—Naretia Saskodo.
"Rangetsu, care for a drink?"
Instead of answering, Naretia lifted an empty glass, filled it with red like sunset, and tossed it like a shooting star.
Rangetsu—the leader of Dark Demon—caught it with ease.
His power had long sat at the peak of the Divine Realm, ready to break through like a storm crest.
"Then I won't refuse."
Rangetsu caught the glass with reverent hands, raised it to his lips, and drank in slow ripples.
"Fine wine!"
After a sip, his eyes opened like shutters at dawn, praise slipping free.
"Of course. It's from my private hoard."
Draining his own cup, Naretia set it aside and leveled his gaze like a blade.
"This time your Dark Demon losses were heavy—more than a dozen Sacred Realm mages fallen, and even a vice-chairman extinguished."
"Sigh, that was my mistake."
Bitter as ash, Rangetsu said, "I thought the boy had only one dragon at Holy Peak guarding him. I didn't expect..."
He shook his head, letting the rest dissolve like mist.
Naretia burst into laughter, bright and cruel like bells in a storm. "You really underestimated the Mizumi Clan, didn't you?"
"If I'm not wrong, the youth you wanted is the current clan head’s son—and a Sword Wielder."
He rose from the throne and stepped up to Rangetsu, a mocking smile thin as a knife.
"With that identity, do you really think he'd have only one dragon at Holy Peak at his side?"
"I truly didn't expect that."
Rangetsu took the taunt without a ripple, as if used to such tides.
"God King, I know I erred. That's why I'm here for your counsel."
"Hmph. Good that you know. You moved without my order."
Suddenly, a crushing aura erupted from Naretia, freezing the air like winter glass and driving breath from Rangetsu’s chest.
"God King, please calm your wrath! I won't act on my own again."
Rangetsu went pale as chalk, begging fast like a man in a storm.
That ambush on Yumigawa Sumeragi and his people days ago—Rangetsu had launched it without Naretia’s leave. No wonder the God King burned.
"Hmph. Know this—without my support, Dark Demon is just third-rate driftwood. And you dare talk about overturning the Mizumi Clan? Get your stance straight."
Naretia drove a kick into Rangetsu, sending him flying dozens of meters like a leaf caught in a gale.
Thud.
Cracks spiderwebbed across the palace wall, and Rangetsu spat blood in scarlet bursts.
"God King, I know I was wrong. I won't act alone again!"
Half-kneeling, clutching his chest, he pleaded without pause like a drumbeat.
"Ah, how pitiful."
A beautiful woman appeared at Naretia’s side, six wings unfurled, white dress gleaming like moonlight—an angel. She saw Rangetsu’s bedraggled state and laughed, a silver chime with teeth.
"Gabrielle, what is it?"
Naretia turned to her, brows arched like a drawn bow.
She was one of his strongest—Battle Angel Gabrielle.
Her power stood at the peak of Main God, ruling space and destruction like twin stars.
Above the Divine Realm lies the rank of Main God; the details would come later.
"Yes, God King."
Gabrielle nodded, then spoke with respectful calm like cool water. "We just received word: the Mizumi Clan may be sending someone out of the Central Continent again."
"Is that so?"
Naretia frowned, then looked at Rangetsu. "Stop pretending. Get up. I doubt that kick truly hurt you."
"Yes, God King."
Rangetsu gave an awkward chuckle, stood, and brushed dust from his robe like ash from snow.
"What now? Should I make a move?"
Gabrielle shot Rangetsu a cold look, then asked Naretia, her voice sharp as a blade.
"No. Strike carelessly and you'll end up like Dark Demon—paying dearly."
Naretia shook his head, thought for a beat, then spoke.
"First we gauge their strength. Gabrielle, use your judgment."
"Understood, God King!"
She vanished, space rippling like water before stillness.
"Then what about the Eastern Moon Continent?"
With Gabrielle gone, Rangetsu finally dared ask, his voice small as a candle.
"Sigh, Rangetsu, try using your head, will you?"
Naretia stared at him, irritation simmering like thunder behind clouds.
He still had his uses, so Naretia leashed his temper like a hunter leashing a hound.
He snapped a kick into him again. "Idiot! If the open path fails, use the shadows!"
"Uh... the shadows? What do you mean?"
Rangetsu blinked, slow to react, as if fog filled his skull.
"That Mizumi boy is enrolling at Egisia Academy—you know that, right?"
"I know."
"Then there you go. Send a few girl assassins under twenty from Dark Demon to transfer into Egisia Academy."
"Let them inch close to the boy, earn his trust... You don't need me to spell the rest out."
"Of course, God King. I'll handle it. Please rest easy."
Rangetsu nodded fast, wearing the mask of a man promising the moon.
"Then why are you still here? Go prepare and pick your people."
"Yes, yes. I'll prepare now. I take my leave."
The space around him wavered, and, like Gabrielle, he vanished without a trace.
"Will this really go smoothly?"
Naretia settled back onto the throne and stared at the scarlet carpet underfoot, his murmur drifting like smoke.
…
