“Exactly.” Lucimia smiled, a crescent moon of poise. “I let Fuzzy Orb melt into the current of energy. When Vosh absorbed it, her first reflex was to scrub herself clean.”

“She did erase Rexi’s memory, but she didn’t clear the Devouring seeded in that stream. She thought the waters were safe, yet she carried my Devouring back to her core.”

“Hmph. To make her stumble, we had to let her taste victory first, like a fish biting a hidden hook in still water.”

She’d shaped this method back in Erwei City, where she’d argued with Bevi under a sky of doubt. They’d posed a question like a knife: if an effect is laced into energy, would Nirael suffer side effects after absorbing it—could she be steered?

Now she used the blade of that hypothesis without hesitation, like lightning finding a path.

“So that’s it—too strong, Lucimia.” Rexi breathed, a sigh like wind over grass, then asked, “Right, what’s the exact effect of your Devouring? Once it returns to her body, with energy full as a sea, won’t she take a hit and purge it fast?”

“Yeah.” Nirael frowned, confusion like a folded map.

“Hmph. If you can see that, how could I not?” Lucimia lifted her chin, pride like a bright pennant. “My Devouring is named—Devouring the existence of seals Vosh has already broken.”

The words fell like thunderstones, and Rexi and Nirael both stared, stunned as deer in snowlight.

“That… that works,” Nirael said, clarity rising like dawn. “Because you strike first, the Devouring triggers, and the seals Vosh breached will re-seal. She won’t use energy, and without energy she can’t purge.”

“My gods—too strong, Lucimia.” Rexi finally caught up, awe spreading like warm light.

This time she agreed from the heart, respect settling like a well-placed stone. The black-haired girl was a mind as keen as winter steel.

She found herself liking her more, like a lantern found in fog.

“To help you trust me more, Rexi—you can share the memory in my mind.” Lucimia offered, calm like still water. “Let’s all see Vosh’s state.”

Rexi blinked, eyes like twin moons, glanced at Nirael, and Nirael gave a nod like a quiet drum. Rexi snapped her fingers, a crisp spark in air.

—

The same familiar space opened, chaos like drifting ash, no up or down, only a weightless dusk.

Vosh’s conscious soul slid back into her body, her mood bright as a festival fire. She’d absorbed Ment’s energy and a slice of Elyssus’s power, each gulp a step toward breaking her seals.

“With this much energy, the seal on my arm should crack like dry clay.”

She spoke, and as she reached to tear the chains on her arm, a sudden weakness flooded her, like winter water pouring through bones.

At once, the seals she’d already broken coiled back around her body, chains like iron serpents winding her whole arm, even binding her fingers.

“Wait—what the hell is this?”

Shock hit like a hammer, and panic gnawed like rats. She reached for her Purification Power, but her strength was sand in a sieve, the Authority failing to rise.

“What’s happening? Why are the broken seals returning like ghosts?”

Vosh stared at the chains, terror riming her gaze like frost. Out of the corner of her eye, a black shape pricked her sight like ink on snow.

She shifted her gaze and saw an oval creature with velvet-black fur, a tail like a brush, and big round eyes blinking like wet stars, Fuzzy Orb crouched on her chain.

The orb’s round eyes blinked, guileless as a small animal, watching Vosh like a curious child at a window.

Vosh understood at last—she’d been played by Lucimia, a chess piece flipped in silence.

Her face darkened, words ground like grit between teeth. “…Lucimia. Very good. You did well… Lucimia…”

“Lucimia… Lucimia… I’ll remember you. You’re the second to make me suffer after Olivya. Wait for me—next time I won’t spare you.”

Vosh glared at Fuzzy Orb, a stare like knives, knowing Lucimia could see through that soft lens into this prison of chains.

—

“That’s the shape of it.” Lucimia stood with hands on hips, pride like a high ridge. “Her earlier work collapsed like a sand wall. We likely bought more time to keep her sealed.”

Rexi and Nirael traded a look, silence like silk, each reading the other’s praise for Lucimia as clearly as firelight.

That Purification Deity—how long since she’d tasted defeat? Besides Olivya, Lucimia was the second to wound Vosh, a mark like a brand.

Waves rose in Nirael’s heart, a tide like moon-pulled water. Watching Lucimia, she felt how much the girl mirrored Olivya, though their paths forked like two roads through pines.

“All right. Since it’s handled, I’ll keep my promise.” Nirael exhaled, breath like steam.

“Lucimia, Devour my ability,” Nirael said, steady as a drawn bow.

Lucimia gathered herself, gaze like ink, then nodded. She raised a hand; a shadow seeped from her palm like smoke, circled Nirael’s form once, then streamed back to Lucimia’s hand.

Soon, new lines unfurled in Lucimia’s mind like script on parchment: [Time Acceleration], and intel on the Time Ability User path laid out like a map.

She found Bevi’s intel and Nirael’s differed like two accents; together they formed a fuller picture, a mosaic like joined tiles.

“Good. Since I’m not dead, I need to rebuild the Empire.” Nirael’s voice was a bell with weight. “Because of Ment, order and key personnel are gone, vitality bled like a field after frost. Resetting it will take time.”

The burden pressed on her shoulders like a mountain, yet she braced like a pine against wind.

“Lucimia.” Nirael looked at her, gaze like a straight blade.

“What is it?”

“I have a request, a small thorn I can’t ignore.”

“Say it.”

“My state isn’t good. I feel I’ll lose control, and once I do, I won’t be myself. When that day comes, I want you to kill me.”

“…”

Lucimia hadn’t expected that; the thought settled like dark rain. She weighed it, then nodded once, firm as a knotted rope.

“All right.”

“Thank you. If that day comes, I’ll warn you first, like lighting a beacon.”

Nirael thanked her, then turned to Rexi. “And you? You’re royal blood. Will you rebuild the Empire with me?”

“Me? Rebuild the Empire?” Rexi winced, a smile like thin ice. “Forget it. I don’t have that kind of skill, and I promised Lucimia something I must honor.”

“Fair.” Nirael shrugged, motion like a loose cloak. “The Empire welcomes you anytime, like open gates.”

“Thanks.”

“So… we’re done? Dismissed? Want a bowl of the Empire’s specialty—tomato beef brisket soup, warm as a hearth?”

“Mm… no.” Lucimia shook her head, motion like falling leaves. “I’ve got other matters.”

“Understood.” Nirael nodded. “The Empire welcomes you too, Lucimia, like a home-fire.”

“Mm.” Lucimia dipped her chin, thoughtful as a cloud. As Nirael turned to go, she spoke. “Wait, Nirael. I have a question.”

“A question? Ask—if I know it, I’ll answer, like a clear spring.”

“Do you know where Kalan Village is?” Lucimia asked, voice steady as a drum.

Kalan Village was where Yuna had been abducted, the place where Olivya’s faithful seized Yuna, a memory like a scar.

“Kalan Village…” Nirael frowned, thought moving like slow smoke, then replied, “Sorry, Lucimia. I haven’t heard of Kalan Village. But I know a place called Karan City.”

Lucimia frowned, doubt like ripples. “Karan City? Same name?”

“I don’t know.” Nirael shook her head, motion like a loosened knot. “Karan City sits in the Lowegar Kingdom—the one Shebelle mentioned when you first came to the Empire.”