Medith dug a book out from under a pile of clutter—a slim volume the mysterious youth had written himself.

“How…” She flipped through it, shock tightening her chest. Everything matched what she’d seen before, except the blurb had changed.

“I may never finish this book. I hand it to you. Don’t ask who I am, or why I hold that power. When you reach the Void of Truth, all will be clear.”

She finished reading and fell into long, quiet. Then she closed it, slid it neatly into the hidden nook of the bookcase, and snow-shelved it beside the divine book. Her gaze drifted toward the distance, a lonely kite-string caught on the wind.

1.6: The women’s gear was under urgent maintenance. The Queen prepared the finest equipment, a steel leaf to shield them with force.

1.7: Milia pointed out the city’s Dusk Legion had no manager. She volunteered to stay, handling duty in Medith’s place. Medith hesitated, then agreed.

1.8: The women’s uniforms and kit were all set, ready to march. Medith received the [Fiendslayer], personally handed over by Euticles.

Vmmm— Medith raised it to the sky. The Bloodsword answered with a bright, crisp hum.

The greatsword measured eighty-five centimeters. The blade was wider than a palm—an average one; if yours is huge, pretend I didn’t say it.

A blood-red channel ran down the center, like a dried crimson bed, waiting to Sip an enemy’s life and fill its starving soul.

Edge and tip gleamed silver-white. Along the edge ran pale green lines, purpose unknown, like moss-light on frost.

At her request, the edge carried countless micro-serrations, bristles that made skin crawl, too fine for the naked eye.

The tip flashed under the sun, a shard of winter that looked ready to pierce anything in this world.

The hilt matched the blade’s color, silver bright. At the pommel sat a verdant jewel, inside it swam a thousand green threads.

Medith bent at the waist, drew the greatsword and cut the sky. Bzz—keeen— The blade swung at high speed, pulling a white arc of sword-qi out of air.

Ding— The stroke ended, burying deep into the ground, smooth as a candle spearing a cake.

She weighed it in hand. The jewel seemed to lighten the load; the weapon moved like her own arm—nimble, yet proud.

That crimson channel down the spine radiated a menace that thrilled the blood.

“Fiendslayer doesn’t quite fit. I’ll give it back my old sword’s name. Blood Drinking Sword. It matches this blood-groove.” Her smile warmed like dawn. “It’s a tenth of my divine sword’s power, but the feeling’s back.” Medith whirled the Blood Drinking Sword at speed, joy bright in her face.

Sais watched, frost-eyed, as Medith leapt into a dance of death. It felt like even her rank couldn’t match a single blade.

1.10: Medith donned the corps uniform, woke the women she’d dragged to live together. They geared up in neat lines and stepped out.

[Dusk Legion Headquarters]

Just east of the city gate stood a grand building. The banner above didn’t show the Queen’s green leaf cradling the Scepter, but Medith’s Black Sun. In the royal city, that was status raised to its peak.

“Milia, I’m handing you Commander for now.” Medith gave her a Black Sun badge, rush-forged in pure gold.

She had devised a basic rank set: plastic, black iron, silver, gold. From low to high, matching member, group leader, captain, commander. Production wasn’t scaled yet, so it wouldn’t be announced.

“Milia…” Iling spoke with reluctance, then wrapped her in a tight hug.

As part of the earliest cadre to follow Medith—and having survived the journey to Sia City—their bond needed no words.

Milia smiled and patted her head, a big sister brushing away tears. “Silly girl, why cry? It’s not life and death. With the General here, what’s there to fear?”

“Hehe…” Iling chuckled, wiped her eyes, and scampered back to Medith’s side.

“Everyone, I’m sorry I can’t train you myself. I carry a mandate, leaving to negotiate abroad. Until I return, all legion affairs go to Milia. Treat her as you treat me. You don’t honor a person—you honor the badge.

We don’t care for distance, race, strength, or gender. As long as we all fight in this darkness, you are the Dusk Legion.

Now tell me loud—who are you?” Medith drew the Blood Drinking Sword. The blade cracked the air, loosing a ringing hum.

“Dusk Legion!!”

“Good.” Medith nodded, satisfied.

“Then—open the gate! Move out!” Her sword pointed at the city gate, yawning wide ahead.

“Ya-ho-ho-ho—” The Lita Sisters squealed, their eyes scrunched into comical (>﹏<).

“General, out there, please be careful. Mission first—don’t meddle.” The Queen wore a look of reluctant tenderness.

They hadn’t been together long, barely time to polish feelings; now came parting again.

Medith nodded. Her hunt for the Divine Stone had been rephrased by the Queen—private business could hurt her reputation if she ignored the nation. But in Xurenxus City as it stood, it was fine. Besides, Milia, Euticles, and the Dusk Legion remained.

“Captain Sais, urge the General when needed. Protect her. Send regular letters.” The Queen looked at Sais seriously. She set aside her usual needle-pointed front; Sais nodded, earnest.

“This is for the General.” The Queen drew a black, eyeball-like object from the pocket-space tucked at her chest.

“What is…” Medith had never seen it before.

The Queen took Medith’s smooth jade hand, placed it in her palm, then folded her slender fingers, making her hold it tight.

“That thing I gave you to examine—after analysis, we found it isn’t a real eye. We don’t know what it does, but its power is huge. Take it, in case.” said the Queen.

Medith nodded, grateful. During their first talk about the mainland’s past, this had been inside that handkerchief.

They’d thought it belonged to someone who knew the old history, someone murdered by Soledo and his crew, tortured for clues to the divine book.

The divine book was ancient; the Elvenfolk no longer knew when the legacy began. It wasn’t impossible others knew it—or had held it.

“Then, Your Majesty, we’re off.” Medith gave the Queen a complicated look.

The Queen smiled, flowers opening in her eyes. “Safe travels.”