They rode a magic carpet toward the Royal Capital, drifting like a wind-borne leaf under a pale sky.

Unease pooled in Lucimia’s chest, then plans lined up like chess pieces on a quiet board. What should she do next?

Do they keep wrecking every Cross once they arrive? How does she meet Nirael—will Nirael step from the mist like a shadow that knows her name?

Where is Ment’s true body? Nirael said the Royal Capital’s sanctum holds a place called the Mist Domain, with a Cross buried inside like a coffin under fog. Will Ment be lurking there?

Relief brushed her like cool water; she wasn’t meant to join the battle. Maybe Nirael won’t tell her the details. She only needs to bring the rat swarm to the Royal Capital, slip into the Mist Domain, and shatter the Cross like breaking black glass.

The rest shouldn’t touch her; she’d watch Nirael and Rexi end Ment, like two blades crossing under moonlight.

A thorn pricked her thoughts: what if Ment already slaughtered people in the Royal Capital, just to starve the rats of energy? If so, Nirael would still be short on power. Could the two of them really take Ment head-on?

Will I still have to step in? The question hung like a blade above a thin thread.

She could act; the Devouring Authority burned in her like a furnace. But her current state was heavy with taint, a dark ink spreading through clear water.

Ment didn’t run. He chose a frontal clash, like a hunter waiting with a spear. He must be ready for Lucimia to move.

Even if he starves Nirael, once they set foot in the Royal Capital, he still has to face Lucimia, a storm walking on two feet.

Is Ment the type to ignore that? No—he counts his knives before nightfall.

Unless he “air-drops” a counter Dark Deity… The thought flashed like lightning across a clouded mind.

Wait… an “air-dropped” Dark Deity?

Her gaze unfocused, then snapped back. Not a new Dark Deity descending from nowhere, but seizing a known one—turning a chained god into his hound.

Ment knows he can’t stop Lucimia, so he turns his blade toward Nirael. Would he use some method to reassert control over Nirael, make her stand on his side, and strike at Lucimia and Rexi crossing the sky toward him?

It’s not impossible; the odds feel heavy, like storm air before rain.

If Nirael and Ment face her together, her path would be a cliff-edge. Nirael, fed with energy, would be far stronger than before. Her Devouring Authority could still swallow them both, like a black tide, but what about afterward?

She’d be wrecked. If she loses control, in a way the Dark Deity faction wins; they hunger for her collapse the way wolves scent blood.

She has another blade—the Severing Authority. She can cut Ment’s hold on Nirael, a clean break like a silk cord snapping. No need to Devour.

Yet the guess wobbles. Before, Nirael hadn’t absorbed energy, Ment was flush with power, and still he failed to control her. Now Nirael holds more energy than him—how would he bind her?

Possible, but far harder, like trying to shackle fire with wet rope.

So what will Ment do?

I can’t see it… The fog won’t clear; she’ll walk by feel and trust her feet.

Unless he truly becomes the Purification Deity’s dog. If he bows that low, she runs—swift as a deer vanishing into trees.

For now, prep the ground. She remembered a Deceiver’s follower teaching sword at the Royal Capital’s Academy. That Deceiver had stockpiled energy inside a summoning Magic Array, a reservoir glowing like bottled lightning. If all else fails, let the rat swarm eat Elyssus’s energy too; bleed Elyssus low, and avoid the presence of Devouring that might let Elyssus slip his bonds like a snake shedding skin.

Yes—she should try to contact that follower, and feel out the city’s pulse.

She closed her eyes to reach out—then felt Rexi’s stare like a warm lamp on her cheek.

“What are you doing? Don’t stare at me,” Lucimia asked, voice a soft ripple over stone.

“Heh. You’re gorgeous. Let me look a little more,” Rexi said, grinning like a fox in sunlight.

“…”

Lucimia held Rexi’s gaze, calm as a still pond. “Do you realize you look like… a hopeless perv right now?”

“Eh? Do I? I’m appreciating beauty. Do you know how pretty you are? If you went to school, a whole tide of people would chase you.”

“Fine, fine. Look all you want. Don’t distract me. I’ve got work.” She waved her hand like placating a child, turned away, and reached for the thread to the follower.

Rexi wasn’t as obedient as Desty. She ignored Lucimia’s words, crawled to her side like a playful cat, and pinched Lucimia’s cheek.

“What now…” Lucimia opened her eyes, a sigh like wind slipping through reeds. “I’ve got urgent business. If you’re bored…”

She drew a magic book from her Storage Ring, the cover glittering like frost, and handed it to Rexi.

“If you’re bored, read.”

“Okay.” Rexi accepted the book, but didn’t open it. She leaned in, eyes bright as stars. “You know, I’ve always felt you’re not like other girls your age.”

“I told you not to interrupt me… Forget it.” Lucimia breathed out, then let the moment be, like setting the sword down for tea. “Why do you say that?”

“Mm… maybe that’s not quite it. You look more like an adult, not a kid. I tug you, grab your hair, and you don’t get mad. And once you learned about the fear of heights, you even switched carpets.”

“And look at me—still pestering you. You don’t snap; you hand me a book, and now you’re humoring me. It feels like an adult soothing a child, an elder indulging a junior. But you’re not Bloodkin, so you should be young.”

Rexi tilted her head, thoughts clicking like beads. “You’re a little girl, yet like an adult—strong, knowing, steady to a degree. And I just heard a bit from Bevi—you’re really smart. Like the soul in you isn’t a little girl’s, but a grown woman’s.”

“An adult?” Lucimia blinked, the word falling like a pebble into deep water.

It fits. She’d nearly forgotten the old shape of herself, already woven into this life. The past felt like watching a stranger across a river. Still, some qualities survived, turned into instinct—always there like a silent compass.

So of course it looks like this.

“Right.” Rexi’s voice softened, like dusk settling on a rooftop. “You said you had friends who didn’t end well for all kinds of reasons… were they killed by a Dark Deity?”