On the fringe of Nightfall Forest, two figures walked at an easy pace, like shadows drifting along a cold stream. Agas was wrapped head to heel in a black mage’s robe, his presence as chill and heavy as winter fog. The other man seemed bright by contrast; his loose black coat didn’t stain him with malice, it framed him with a clean, blade-cut charm.
“Looks like it’s up ahead—the castle the Sage of Truth gave him,” the young man said, shading his brow with his left hand as noon glare struck like a white knife.
“Castle?!” Agas stalled, then memory stirred like silt in deep water. Ouyang’s castle—the thing he still couldn’t see through. He had suspected a supreme artifact, yet under careful watching it remained as plain as a stone in rain.
“That thing… I remember now. I didn’t expect it to come from the Sage of Truth…” He spoke, then caught the crooked smile on the man beside him, like moonlight catching an edge.
“Dongze, that look… there’s a story behind this, isn’t there?”
Dongze kept the same half-smile, yet his gaze held a quiet ache, like a lantern behind frost. “That castle was a gift from the Void Watcher. The Watcher simply sent it through the Sage. It holds the gathered strength of seven Watchers. Once its Void Illusion Realm unfolds, even an Emperor who has sounded the Hymn will be badly hurt—might even fall. His Majesty the God Emperor told me the Void Illusion Realm can serve as a backup ‘Gate’ when needed.”
“Void Illusion Realm?” Even as an ancient-blooded being, Agas had never heard the term; it sounded like thunder buried under a calm sky.
Dongze stopped. He clasped his hands behind his back and looked up, as if measuring clouds on a windless lake. “Agas, I know your grudge with His Majesty the Sovereign. But as Lady Dreamkeeper said, all things become yesterday. One day, when you look back, those feuds will feel like dried leaves on a path. Lord Dream Chaser also said, before Time, everything rots—even gods. At life’s dusk, if you meet an old face, even an enemy, you’ll feel a peace like a hearth on a winter night.”
“What are you getting at?” Agas pushed back his hood. A pale face rose like moonstone; short gold hair flickered under the wind’s soft brush. He respected the head of the Dark Magic Association more than anyone; her words had settled in his heart like ink in paper.
Lord Dream Chaser was a legend, a star that vanished after the First Era. Rumors said he and Dreamkeeper were siblings; their tempers matched like twin rivers—aloof, solitary. Others swore they were lovers; perhaps that’s why one chased dreams while the other kept them.
“As the Watcher of Time and Eternity,” Dongze went on, “Lord Dream Chaser peered into the river of ages. He saw a corner of a future so far that not even the Sage of Truth, nor the Watcher of Fate and Hope, could glimpse it. He didn’t say what he saw, but it wasn’t a gentle dawn. So I hope you’ll help us. Don’t carry your family’s blood-debt into this place.”
Agas fell silent, then let out a crooked smile at the sky, like a crack in ice. “You’ve known for a while that I worked with those people. Why keep me, Your Majesty Dongze? Even if you’ve lost your former power, it wouldn’t be hard to erase me.”
“This was Lady Dreamkeeper’s request. She was the first to notice it. You are her subordinate. She wanted to give you a chance. Do you… mean to fail her expectations?”
“Fail her expectations?” Agas’s eyes went hazy, like mist over a lake. Because of those First Era rumors, he had always thought Dream Chaser and Dreamkeeper were lovers, so he could only bless them in secret. When Dream Chaser disappeared, joy flickered in him like a guilty spark in the dark. For her, he chose black magic. He wanted to shoulder some of her load. He wanted to be the one standing at her side.
In the end, he succeeded. In black magic he stood second only to her. He became the vice head of the Dark Magic Association. He eased her burdens, like a strong beam under a roof. But their bond went no further.
She stood on the second rung of existence; he was a humble one who had not even sounded the Hymn. Some words, some feelings, had to be buried like seeds beneath frost.
Dongze offered his hand, palm steady as a flag in still air. “Work with me for real. For Lord Dream Chaser’s dream, and for Lady Dreamkeeper’s dream. I need your black magic. In an age watched by rules like winter stars, only black magic can do what daylight won’t allow.”
—
In common thought, Nightfall Forest meant danger and death, like a black sea under a moonless sky. People kept far away, as if from a cliff in fog. A recent thunderous blast made it worse; some claimed the forest’s Night God had broken in from the underworld. Now the forest felt like a forbidden tomb.
For all that, Ouyang and the Jade Rabbit actually met humans here.
“Rabbit, go ask what’s going on,” Ouyang said, stifling a yawn like a cat in the sun. He sent the Jade Rabbit ahead. He knew a rabbit walking like a man would startle common folk, but he didn’t bother to stand in their shoes.
Under orders, the Jade Rabbit braced itself and strode forward, steps bold as drumbeats. “Humans, what are you doing in Nightfall Forest?”
Demon King’s City held only a slice of the forest, yet the Jade Rabbit spoke like a landowner at his gate. Before it stood four humans—two adults, two children—shaped like a small hearth-lit family.
“R-r-rabbit…” The little boy in the woman’s arms pointed, voice hopping like a frightened sparrow. A rabbit in a black official coat and high top hat—he’d never seen such a thing.
The woman and the man were just as stunned, faces blank as snow. The man held a little girl; shock sat on all four of them like frost.
“Humans, answer my question!” the Jade Rabbit barked, voice cracking like a whip. The shout snapped the family awake, like water thrown on sleepers.
“Mr. Rabbit, we’re going to find the Void Messenger’s temple and receive the Void Messenger’s blessing!” The little girl waved at the rabbit from her father’s arms, voice sweet as honeyed haw. The Jade Rabbit’s stance softened at the sound.
“The Void Messenger’s temple? You came to Nightfall Forest to look? Who told you?” With Ouyang behind him like a mountain, the Jade Rabbit feared no four mortals.
“Um… Mr. Rabbit, how should we address you?” the man tried, words careful as stepping stones. He was the head of the family; he had to speak.
“Humans, remember this. The Rabbit Lord’s name is Jade Rabbit.”
“Mr. Jade Rabbit, we’re believers of the Void Church,” the man said, words spilling like a long sigh. “Lord Collin told us there’s a temple of the Void Messenger deep in Nightfall Forest. If we find it, we can live in a place like an Ideal Land. No noble lords squeezing us. No fear of empty bowls…”
Listening to the flood, Ouyang nodded inwardly, and the name Collin rose like a note from the past. The seeds planted have started to sprout, he thought, like green tips after rain. Collin’s promises weren’t exactly true, but why not make them true? Demon King’s City lacked ordinary folk. Better to house his own believers than fill the place with strays. The only snag was the temple. He hadn’t built one. But that wasn’t a mountain—he could raise a temple in the time of a few heartbeats.
The Jade Rabbit snorted, breath sharp as a flint spark. “So you’re sick of noble exploitation, and hardship drove you to seek a temple here for a better life?”
“My lord Jade Rabbit, we—” the woman began, but the man cut in, voice steadying like a hand on a tiller. “My lord Jade Rabbit, I’m Angus. I’m no freeloader. The real reason is—I offended a local noble.”
As it went: Angus had a neighbor with a beautiful daughter. A young aristocrat passed by one day and tried to seize her like a hawk grabbing a chick. Angus and the neighbor were close; that girl was like his own. He took up a hoe like a farmer taking up thunder. In the struggle, he killed the noble’s son by accident.
When he finished, the Jade Rabbit nodded, ears tipping like blades of grass in wind. “Humans, you’re lucky. The Rabbit Lord is the Void Messenger’s representative in the mortal world. Since you had the courage to brave peril-choked Nightfall Forest, the Void Messenger will guide you to the Ideal Land!”
A decree-like scroll bloomed in the rabbit’s paw, unfurling like dawn. “This is the Void Messenger’s decree. Carry it and go that way. You’ll find the Ideal Land.”
Watching the rabbit play oracle, Ouyang’s thoughts moved like weavings on a loom. If we’re taking in many believers, the name Demon King’s City is a poor banner. Decision made. We’ll rename the city… Ideal Land.
