Falling... an endless plunge. In that seven-colored, uncanny void, Augustine and the rest kept dropping, time and space unraveling like torn silk on the wind.

Suddenly, the rainbow haze thinned. Through the blur, sky and earth surfaced like islands in fog.

The seven-colored space peeled away at last. They landed in a strange world, the air glittering with magic like fireflies at dusk.

Augustine raised a palm. A tiny fireball bloomed there, a cherry-sized sun. He felt it at once—this casual apprentice spell hit like a Sun Ring Level blast.

“What... is this place?” Augustine turned to Rex and Besha, seeking an anchor. Rex only shook his head and looked toward the woman with gold wings. “Ask her. I’ve got no idea where we landed.”

Everyone’s attention swung to the winged woman. Since arriving, her eyes had stayed shut, as if she listened to the bones of the world.

She lifted her head. Her gaze reached for the horizon of the sky. No sun burned up there, no visible lamp, yet the world lay bright. It felt like a hidden sun burned beyond the firmament, veiled from mortal eyes.

“We came... at the wrong time, and to the wrong place.” Her voice rang like silver bells, bittered by a wry smile. “All I can do is pray to the Highest Law. Please, not the deadliest time point.”

“The deadliest time point? What time are we in? Where are we?” Rex’s face tightened, as if an old omen stirred.

“Place—Divine Continent. Time... I’m sorry, I don’t know the exact year. Only this: it’s the past.” She breathed, wary eyes still on the sky, like a hunter watching storm clouds. “By the time mechanism the Endless Plateau left behind, we should’ve appeared inside the Endless Plateau. For certain reasons, we’re on the Divine Continent instead. We need a portal off the Divine Continent, get back to the Endless Plateau, and maybe—just maybe—return to our proper time.”

Even as she spoke, she kept watching the vault of heaven, as if it might birth a nightmare.

“Sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. My name is... you can call me Fia.” Golden hair flashed as she glanced at Rex, then Augustine and the rest. She hesitated a heartbeat before giving the name.

Augustine sensed it—Fia wasn’t giving her full name. Trust hadn’t settled yet; it hung like a misted blade between them.

“I’m Augustine, student of Lord Void Messenger—the First Demon King—of the Origin World.”

“Eh? You’re... Father’s student?”

Everyone froze, minds blank as winter fields. Everyone except Rex. Ouyang, the First Demon King—since when did he have a child? If he did, his secrecy was terrifying.

“Is that really so unbelievable?” Fia quietly folded away her golden wings. Her innocent tone brushed over their stunned faces like spring rain.

“It’s surprising. Teacher never said he had a child.”

After a brief shock, names were traded, glances measured. Learning Rex had once been a Demon King let everyone exhale. With a god-tier being among them, even the wrong time tasted less fatal.

“Uncle Rex, how’s Father?” Fia swept her fringe back, revealing a face more exquisite than an elf’s, sky-blue eyes sparking with mischief. “Did he run off to another world to cause trouble again?”

Rex could only shake his head with a weary smile. Silence pooled between them like a shadow. Old distance. Old thorns.

“Forget it. Priority one—find the Endless Plateau at this time point and leave a timeline that isn’t ours.” Fia spoke as if she’d expected Rex’s silence. She let it pass like wind over reeds.

She took the lead, feet sure on forest paths as if she’d walked them in another life. Guided by her, they soon saw a settlement clustered in the distance, smoke thin as threads.

They split into four knots along the way. Fia alone in front. Behind her, Rex and Besha. Then Morris with two others. Augustine’s seven brought up the rear like a slow, watchful river.

“I’ve seen that girl Fia somewhere... but the memory’s faded like old ink,” Pulis muttered around the banner he’d carried even through the rainbow fall, the flag still unbowed on the Divine Continent.

Caro eyed Fia’s lone, free stride. “Can we really trust her? She’s hiding something. I can feel it like a pebble in a shoe.”

As the village came into view, a three-headed bird scythed across the high sky, each head crowned with a different force—thunder, fire, wind. Storms howled. Thunder walked the rooftops. Fire climbed like hungry vines.

Even from afar, they heard it—the harsh chorus of screams, the breaking sobs, the raw edge of pleas for help.

“Move! We stop that monster bird. If we leave it be, it’ll slaughter the whole village!” Righteous anger flared in Irina. She raised her staff, and a dragon of fire roared skyward.

The fire tornado slammed into the bird and broke like surf on rock. It did little—except yank the aggro onto them.

“Irina, that was reckless. We can’t handle that thing,” Caro snapped, cold water on boiling blood. Irina blinked, then blanched. Her Sky Level force hadn’t even scratched it. Its rank spoke for itself like a thunderclap.

“Honestly, charging in without gauging its power? That’s how you wipe a team...” Fia’s laugh was light as wind chimes. She turned back, and a longsword of holy radiance formed in her hand.

“May the Light be with you.”

In a heartbeat, the gold-bright blade blazed like dawn. Fia leapt, a streak of sun across the air, and met the monster bird head-on.

Scree! The creature shrieked. The center head belched a pillar of flame. Fia kicked off empty air, slipped past the flame like a swallow skimming waves. The second head spat globes of lightning. The wings beat, and a gale tore through the trees, plucking trunks like weeds.

Rex stepped in, a wall against the storm. He caught the spillover damage before it could shred Augustine’s group.

“Over here!”

The earth yawned. A rough hole opened, and a man climbed out. His mouth never moved, yet his voice rang in their minds like a clear bell.

“That bird only attacks what’s on the surface. Get underground and you’re safe!”

They traded looks—ah, so that’s it—and followed the sign. Rex swayed, then nodded. He ushered them down, pain smudging his features like ash.

Thanks to Fia keeping the beast busy, they slipped below without disaster, Rex sealing harm like a door against the wind.

“Fia... she’s still out there.”

Guilt tightened Irina’s voice when the last of them huddled in the earthen dark. Fia fought on alone above, blade and storm crossing like claws.

“You fear for your ally? Don’t.” The hide-clad man who’d opened the hole gestured calm, his thought-voice warm and steady. “That lady is a Heavenly Deity. She can handle a berserk divine beast.”

Relief eased their shoulders like rain after heat.

“Lord Rex, at god-level, aren’t you a match for that bird?” Pulis stared at Rex’s pallor. The question slipped out, heavy as a stone.

Rex didn’t posture. He nodded, honest and unflinching.

Silence gathered. A god-level being, hurt without even a direct clash. Irina’s cheeks burned; her rash strike had drawn the aggro, and Rex had bled to shield them.

A piercing death-cry finally shattered the quiet. The ground shuddered. The beast had fallen. Their guide peeked up the hole, then waved them out with a grin.

Above, trees lay uprooted, strewn like bones after a typhoon. The ravaged earth made them suck a collective breath.

Fia’s clothes were slicked with blood. She bowed her head, eyes shadowed. White light unfurled. A golden battle dress replaced the torn fabric, bright as noon over a field of wheat.

“Ohenidorang pays respects to the Heavenly Deity. Thank you for saving our village!” The hide-wrapped man—Ohenidorang—dropped to both knees, forehead to soil, reverence pouring off him like incense.

In Augustine’s ears, his words were strange music, a tongue none of them had heard.

“That’s the Divine Tongue. It’s also a common speech,” Rex murmured. He tapped each forehead with a finger, and meaning bloomed in their minds like flowers.

Fia smoothed her war-skirt and brushed away dust that wasn’t there.

“What’s the time now? Divine calendar?”

“Replying to the Heavenly Deity: it’s the Divine Era, Glory Year 75,672.”

Fia’s face drained of color, white as paper under frost. Rex’s expression darkened too, as if he remembered the taste of ash.

“Glory... after utmost glory comes dusk. Damn it. The one time point I feared most—and here we are.”

She lifted her chin and stared into the end of the sky. Something dreadful seemed to breathe beyond the blue.

“We must reach the Endless Plateau before that, and leave this node in time. Otherwise...”