Lucimia masked her aura as Elyssus’s, like slipping into a borrowed skin, and stepped out of the rift like a cut in the sky.

Below, the crowd churned like a tide; familiar roofs lay spread like tiles after rain. It was the Town of Tranquility.

“The first summoning ritual… of course it’s the Town of Tranquility?” she whispered, breath thin as frost.

Unease pricked her. If Elyssus absorbed all the energy, could it break her Devouring? The odds felt low. Her bite was already set; even full-fed, it might not breach.

Still, to ward off mishap, Lucimia devoured the excess energy, sipping poison to test its bite. One portion wasn’t enough to tip her into frenzy.

It hurt anyway. Resentment, hatred, despair—like an eel-swarm—wriggled into her skull, hissing with cold teeth.

“Hss… quiet…” She breathed the word like a blade.

She invoked her Devouring Authority. The dead fell silent, ash settling on snow.

Then she wore Elyssus’s name and reached out along threads of prayer to followers elsewhere—everyone except Ritch.

Faces on the other end gaped at her image, stunned like fish hauled into sun.

“Wait—where’s the big octopus? My huge octopus? How’d it turn into a pretty girl?” their murmurs bubbled like boiling water.

Doubt flitted like moths around a lamp, but if they could speak with her, it had to be Elyssus.

Besides, the girl bore a few tendrils like strange jewelry, and her aura smelled of Elyssus. Enough proof for hungry hearts.

Lucimia read their bewilderment like ink on water and said this was her true form. Earlier, energy had run thin, so she’d looked grotesque.

To seal it, she added, “Think. Would your god really be an eyesore?”

The followers heard and nodded, agreement falling like soft rain.

The world called it a Dark Deity, but these followers held it as true god, the hand that would grant desire like fruit on a branch.

So they believed. Elyssus was a beautiful maiden, not that hideous giant octopus. Belief settled like dust across their eyes.

Lucimia nodded, satisfied, a cat after cream.

She could have fully taken Elyssus’s shape. But she had just devoured its Authority Power; it needed time to digest, stew simmering under a lid. For now she could only fake its aura and a few tentacles.

Strangely, their gazes grew even more devout, candles leaning toward a stronger flame.

She didn’t dwell. With her identity secured, she issued her first command, words dropping like seals.

“Stop every other summoning ritual.”

Followers balked, confusion stirring like ants in a nest, but Lucimia had her script ready.

“I’ve already descended. There’s no need to feed the remaining energy into the summoning Magic Arrays. Save it for the Sacrificial Rituals. The Church will hunt me next; that reserved energy will be my hidden blade.”

She let the words flow, smooth as oil on water. The followers nodded, finding sharpness in her calm.

“Good. I returned thanks to you. Stay where you are and wait. I’ll come to you one by one and fulfill your wishes.” She painted a grand promise, a mooncake too perfect to bite.

Fulfill their wishes? As if. She meant to cut them down one by one, weeds under a sickle.

“Thank you, my Lord!” they cried, naive as spring sparrows.

Once the followers dispersed, ebbing like a tide, Lucimia revisited her plan.

To deal with Elyssus, the choke points were Magic Arrays and followers.

She couldn’t erase every array and follower in the world, a sea of lanterns stretching beyond sight.

Even if she devoured Elyssus, if its followers saw their god hadn’t descended, they’d keep firing arrays endlessly, wheels turning without rest.

They would stop only when Elyssus successfully descended—when the bell finally rang.

She took a cue from the octopus’s body-swaps. If she could replace Elyssus itself, she could wield its voice and order its followers to halt.

Good. First step set like a stone in the path. Now the second: how to devour Elyssus?

Simple. Borrow its trick of tainting Holy Water to replace people, and send the Fuzzy Orb into Elyssus’s body by magic, a seed slid under bark.

That was her plan, folded sharp as a blade.

She returned to the present, eyes steady as a pond.

Below, ranks of soldiers stood in lines, iron reeds braced in wind, facing her. Alvis watched from afar, gaze heavy as stormcloud.

Pain speared her skull just as she moved.

“Hss…” She clutched her head, teeth grinding like grit.

“Lucimia Lucimia Lucimia!!” Elyssus screamed in her mind, a rabid storm rattling old rafters.

“I won’t let you have it easy! I won’t let you win! Never!”

Elyssus plunged into final frenzy. A mass of black mist billowed, pouring toward the Fuzzy Orb like smoke seeking lungs.

Lucimia guessed the shape of it. Cornered, any Dark Deity would have a last-ditch fang.

She pressed down the struggle, but wisps still leaked from the Fuzzy Orb’s mouth. In reality, the mist seeped from her skin, shadow unspooling from silk.

“ROAR—ROAR—ROAR!”

The instant the mist bled out, every octopus in town went berserk, a reef exploding with teeth.

They tore off their veils and showed true bodies, moonless nightmares rising from water.

Not like before. Eyes blazed red, bodies smoked black, claws bared, murder thick as iron scent.

Their tentacles sprouted blades—not Blue Ringed Octopus barbs, but knife-like bone plates jutting along each limb, steel grown from flesh.

Those bone blades harvested lives below, sickles moving through a red field.

Lucimia tried to wrest control, but they ignored her, wildfire with no shepherd, moving on pure instinct.

“What… did you do?” she asked Elyssus, voice thin as a reed.

“What did I do? Heh.” Its laugh scraped like rust. “I released every octopus from control. They obey neither me nor you! And don’t forget—the black mist’s pouring from you in reality. Every kill they make will be pinned on you. The Church will come. I said it: even trapped, I won’t let you have peace!”

Elyssus was hysterical, a cracked bell rung without mercy.

“Hmph…” Lucimia held her heavy head, thought flashing like knives, and made to cut down the octopi.

Yet—

“Lucimia!” Elyssus roared inside her skull. “Our duel isn’t over!”

The black mist kept spilling like a poisoned spring. With no choice, Lucimia poured all her focus into resisting Elyssus, spine set like a drawn bow.

Deception and Devouring collided again, two tides smashing on the same shore.

“It’s your fault, your fault, all your fault.” A woman’s voice breathed by her ear, cold as night water.

Huh? From where?

Confusion pricked her, and more voices rose, a cloud of flies over carrion.

“It’s all your fault, you ruined me. I’ll take revenge. I’ll peel your skin!”

A thousand voices overlapped. Her mind blurred like ink let loose in rain.

Men and women, old and young—every tongue dripping endless hatred for Elyssus… no, for Lucimia.

“Pfft.”

She coughed a mouthful of blood, red blooming like a flower.

Then blood leaked from her eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, crimson threads trailing like rain on porcelain.

“This… energy?” she forced out, each word a pebble.

“Yes, Lucimia.” Elyssus’s glee crawled like spiders. “I see it. You don’t dare absorb my energy. You’re afraid of losing control. So I’ll feed it to you! Heh heh—get ready to go mad!”

“Tsk…” Lucimia clicked her tongue and snapped her Devouring Authority shut, severing the channel like cutting a rope.

But what she’d already taken shook her, a wave that wouldn’t stop at the first breakwater.

“So damn loud…”

She clamped her hands over her ears, but the voices marched inside her skull, drums beating under bone.

She glanced at her hands. Pale little hands, painted red. Too much blood lost; her consciousness blurred, a lamp guttering in wind.