“Ah—don’t hit me. I’m innocent. I’m just the guy showing the path,” Raphael wailed, crouching like a turtle under hail.

He’d been yanked awake and thought frostbitten elders from the Tree of Life’s domain had noticed him, clubbed him, and erased the Demon Race and humans behind him like wind snuffing candles.

Fear crawled over him like cold moss, and he hugged his head as if his palms were a shield of bark.

He knew exactly what those warped ancients could do, like winter wolves smiling with clean teeth.

Especially his master, a thorn in human skin.

Every twisted torture he knew was a lesson from that immortal fossil, a dry river that never shows mercy.

If they saw his mistake, they’d reach for iron and fire without a second breath.

See, knock me out first, then bind me to that chair thick with tools, like a spider’s altar in a cellar.

He’d wake to a forest of hooks and blades, a cold garden of iron flowers he knew like his own shadow.

Eli watched Raphael in silence, like a cloud pausing over a peak, and sighed. “What are you doing?”

“I—I—huh? You’re not dead?” Raphael blinked like a kicked lamp, then shouted, voice scattering like startled birds.

Eli picked at his ear like flicking dust off a blade. “Dead? You got tricks laid out here too?”

“N—no.” Raphael shook his head like a sapling in wind. “I thought—I thought—”

“All right, cut the noise. Lead on. Where’s your Tree of Life?” Eli arched a brow, voice light as a skipping stone.

Boredom weighed on him like damp clothes; those two girls had him doing grunt work like a mule in spring mud.

“Ah—oh, oh.” Raphael scrambled up like a cat from water, then glanced around like a scout on a ridge.

Huh? Where’d the clan’s old fossils go, those lords on their thrones of dust?

When orders fell like snow, they preened high above; now that we need them, they vanish like mist at noon.

Raphael frowned, a knot in raw wood, then sighed. Looks like I’ve got to let these two—hmm? Why is there one more?

He scratched his ear, annoyed, then waved it off like smoke. “The Tree of Life you want is right in front of you.”

“Hah?” Eli followed his finger like tracking a hawk’s cry, and saw the black, cylindrical statue at the center they’d been circling like ants.

Nothing ringed it except empty stone, a bare lake around a dark pillar.

Eli’s mouth twitched like a tugged thread. “That black, long, thick cylinder… that’s your Tree of Life?”

“Yeah, right here, black, long, and thick,” Raphael shrugged, hands loose as fallen leaves.

“You sure? That black, long, thick cylinder doesn’t look like a tree,” Eli rolled his eyes like marbles in a bowl.

“That’s because you’re seeing the Tree of Life’s base, like a root under soil. Go up one level and you won’t see this black, long, thick cylinder.”

Edlyn stepped aside with frost in her gaze, looking at the two like mud on white silk. “Two bastards, spewing gutter talk.”

“Huh?” Eli blinked, grin bright as a fox’s lantern. “Come on, you misread it.”

“Tch. Get lost. Don’t come near me, you creep,” she snapped, yanking Yiyi back like drawing a blade from a sheath.

Eli shrugged like a leaf dodging rain. “That’s your issue, Ed-chan. I’m being proper, and you’re the one going crooked.”

He pointed at the Tree’s root in the center. “Look, it’s literally a black, long, thick cylinder.”

“Shut it. Don’t you understand ‘quiet’?” Edlyn’s glare flashed like a dagger in moonlight.

Raphael scuttled to the side like a crab, used to this couple’s storms on the road.

Most days, the man poked the nest, the woman lit like summer thunder, the man got pummeled, then grinned and apologized until the storm broke.

Raphael cupped his jaw, brow furrowing like plowed earth.

Tss—

This was the same energy as certain prisoners he’d interrogated, the ones twisted like vines around iron.

You whipped them once, and their eyes lit like wildfire in dry grass, hungry and bright.

Thinking of that gaze gave him gooseflesh like frost bumps rising on water.

With those types, he didn’t bother with questions; he cut the knot like a sword through hemp and saved time like daylight.

Raphael looked Eli up and down, shock creeping in like a cold draft.

Could this guy be that kind of pervert too, a moth chasing the flame?

Right then, Eli, joyously bickering with Edlyn like sparrows arguing at dawn, felt a creepy stare crawl over him like an ant line.

He scratched his head, turned, and caught Raphael looking away like a guilty cat.

He lifted a brow, a question perched like a crow. What’s that about?

It wasn’t the first time either; others had thrown him the same weird look, a pebble in his shoe.

What was the deal?

“Hey, elf, how do we get up?” Edlyn ignored Eli and tossed the question at Raphael like a coin into a well.

Raphael dodged Eli’s gaze and asked Edlyn, puzzled, “Why go up? You came for the Fountain of Life, right? It’s on this level like water at your feet.”

Edlyn froze, thoughts rippling under her lowered lashes like fish in a pond.

Eli’s eyes gleamed like a cat spotting string. “By the way, elf, what’s your name?”

“Uh—I’m—Raphael.” He edged away from Eli like a wary deer, smile stiff as dry bark.

“Oh? So, what do you do on a normal day?” Eli’s tone was breezy as wind over grass.

“...” Raphael stared at Eli, lips sealed like a clasped book.

He feared the man would learn his trade and force him into something dark as a cellar.

“Why so quiet?” Eli smiled, soft as a spring thaw.

He still wanted to know why people kept giving him that look, like a mirror with a crack.

Raphael fidgeted, hands waving like anxious wings, about to deflect with smoke and mirrors.

Edlyn called from the side, voice sharp as a bell. “Hey, stinky Hero, get over here. I’ve got words for you.”

Eli ditched trembling Raphael like dropping a hot coal and trotted to the Demonic Lord with tail-wagging cheer.

Right then, the Tree of Life’s central root stirred like a waking serpent and flung a vine, aiming to coil Raphael like ivy.

It punched up through the ground like a spear of earth.

Eli’s foot caught a root like a snare in tall grass, and he tumbled in place, rolling comically like a gourd, then landed face-first on Edlyn.

He rubbed his aching hand like soothing a bruised fruit, then opened his eyes.

“Oh ho. White.” Eli blinked, satisfied as a cat finding cream.

He braced to push off the floor, but the owner of the little white panties vaulted up like a spring and sat on his back like a mountain cat.

Killing intent poured down his spine like winter rain. Eli drew a deep breath and steadied his heartbeat like a drum.

He lifted his head. “Yo, Ed-chan, nice weather, huh? Blue sky, white clouds, not a storm in sight.”

Edlyn’s pretty face froze, smile sharp as a fan’s edge. “Eli~ looks like you don’t plan to see tomorrow’s sun.”

“Ah? Do I?” Eli smiled sweet as honey poured over stones.

Edlyn’s laugh was cold, a string of “heh heh heh” like ice beads.

Eli chuckled back, a hollow “ha ha” like wind in a bottle.

Silence fell around them like snow over a field.

Eli swallowed, the sound dry as a reed, then forced a grin. “So, Ed-chan? I think I glimpsed a pattern up there.”

Yiyi sighed, head shaking like a willow in light rain. “Sigh. Good luck, main body.”

“Ahhhhhhh! Secret Art—Abyssal Chrysalis Thunder!”

Boom!

...

“Hm?” Zero sat in meditation like a stone under moonlight when his eyelid twitched as if a cold slap from nowhere struck a pond.

He got kicked out of meditation like a boot to a door.

He frowned at the sky like reading a strange cloud. “Emmm, weird. What was that sudden jolt?”

Janus rose from her trance like dawn lifting night, eyes curious as dew. “Huh? What happened to you?”

Zero’s brow tightened like drawn string. “Nothing much. I felt someone slap me and yank me straight out of meditation.”

“There’s such a thing?” Janus frowned, puzzled as a fox at glass. “Awakening shouldn’t do that.”

“Yeah, it’s odd,” Zero said, thoughts circling like swallows.

“You two. The altar is ready,” Era’s voice rang from outside like a bell over stone.

Zero’s eyes flashed like sparks. He smiled. “Janus, want a peek at your father ahead of time?”

Janus frowned, a crease like a river bend. “Didn’t you say without what Eli brings back from the Far East, he might beat you down?”

Zero smiled like a knife in silk. “We can still rouse his consciousness and talk. He can’t break the seal yet, not like this.”

“...” Janus fell silent, thoughts deep as a well.

Zero ruffled her hair with a soft hand, warm as a hearth. “What’s wrong? Tell me. Do you want to?”

Janus sighed, breath a faint cloud. Her voice was complicated as twilight. “He gave me life. I want to ask him why.”

“Why is a mountain,” Zero laughed gently, “and he can’t explain that in a few steps.”

“It’s fine,” Janus said, shaking her head like small waves.

“Then let’s go,” Zero smiled, taking her hand like threading fingers through light, and stepped out.

“You two?” Era looked at them, doubtful as a bird on a wire. “What do we do now?”

Zero smiled and strolled ahead like a man crossing a bridge. “Come. Wake the Abyss. Let me show you the true father of the Demon Race.”

Era’s mouth fell open like a gate. The Abyss!

As with a Celestial God, it sat at the world’s extreme like a pole star opposite a void.

Zero reached the Miter Empire’s capital center and eyed the high platform built from stone and the bones of beasts, a tower of hundreds of meters like a bleached cliff.

“Every time I see it, it’s grand,” he said, awe rising like tide.

“Mm,” Janus sighed, a soft wind through reeds.

“You demons collect corpses with, ah, great enthusiasm,” Zero shook his head, words catching like thorns.

Stone formed the body of the platform, carvings fine as lace, yet certain places were pure skullwork, a mosaic of death like a frozen tide.

It looked eerie, a cold orchard of bone.

Zero squeezed Janus’s hand, then leapt like a hawk; they rose hundreds of meters and landed steady on the peak like light on a blade.

He narrowed his eyes, kissed the back of her hand like a vow, and stroked it, tender as spring rain.

Then he drew a shallow cut across her skin, a line thin as a crescent.

Weird blood of gold, gray, and red beaded up and slid down like molten sunset, dripping onto the altar.

Zero snapped a healing spell, light blooming like a lily, and sealed Janus’s skin.

Janus chuckled, eyes bright as tea. “Why so nervous? With our power, that cut is nothing.”

“You’re my wife,” he said, voice low as embers.

“Ugh. Cheesy,” she muttered, cheeks warm as peach skin.

Zero smiled, then watched the blood soak the platform’s heart like dye in cloth, eyes narrowing. “Come, Abyss. Let me see you with my own eyes.”