“First time meeting… or have we met before?” Fenrir stepped into the wooden hut, a flicker of surprise crossing her face, then she smiled.

Heat rose in Aphelia’s chest before reason cooled it. She hadn’t met this Demon Dragon Princess at all. The one she’d met was the Ouroboros coiled inside her own body.

“Of course not. I’ve seen you, but you may not have seen me.”

She let the slip turn into deference, slow and unhurried, as if praising someone far above. Royals appear before the people all the time; countless claim to have “seen” Fenrir. The excuse fit—except Aphelia forgot what level she now stood at to say it.

“To draw the gaze of a True God is an honor. His Majesty will be pleased.”

Fenrir dipped in a small bow. For royalty, that was already generous. Aphelia heard the misunderstanding and let it lie.

“We received Master Merlin’s orders. But the appointed date…” Fenrir rubbed a finger over the ring on her hand. A scroll slid out like a fish from water, inked with Aphelia’s arrival and brief instructions. A faint crease touched Fenrir’s brow.

“…the Abyss isn’t fit to enter right now, Miss Aphelia.”

“Oh? Unfit? Why?”

A small knot tightened in Aphelia’s gut. She didn’t press. She waited.

Fenrir didn’t answer. She sighed, her voice turning soft. “Come see. As for the other young lady…”

“Call me Violet. If it’s inconvenient, I’ll wait here.”

Violet’s smile was easy. She didn’t mind.

“Thank you. It’s complicated here. Even I…” Fenrir exhaled and waved it off. “Miss Aphelia, please. We can talk on the way.”

A princess moved first to open a door. Fenrir reached the threshold—yet before her hand touched wood, Koko pushed it inward from outside. She stood framed by light, face calm as a sheathed blade.

In that solemn, iron-cold camp, three women stepping out felt like flowers opening after frost.

Fenrir led, her voice low as spring rain as she introduced things to Aphelia. Koko followed with a strict, guarded look, as if watching an unseen edge. That trio, walking through a camp full of men, drew eyes like arrows to a banner.

Most soldiers, upon seeing Fenrir at the front, killed their stray thoughts on the spot. They snapped back to drills. Some even stripped off shirts, muscles knotted like corded rope under sun.

“Miss Fenrir, your camp’s style… really is bold.”

Heat pricked Aphelia’s temples. She clenched her fists; a vein jumped at her brow. She forced a smile while soldiers flexed and tossed her winks like pebbles on a pond.

Fenrir winced. “My apologies. A poor sight.” Then she barked, voice like a whipcrack. “What are you staring at? Back to training! Any violators—double Abyss watch!”

Groans rose like a wave and broke. No one protested. Shirts flew up from the dust; boots hammered back to lines.

“Your soldiers are well-drilled. That’s your work, Miss Fenrir.”

“You flatter me. Even with an army in hand, I’m nowhere near you. True Gods are rare. You’re not here to seek a breakthrough, are you? A friend of Master Merlin must be formidable.”

She waved it off with a laugh and led them past the first barracks, heading for the mountainside.

“What, you’ve stationed troops on the peak too?” Aphelia blinked, then asked.

To garrison such a steep peak—scarred by countless battles—laying legions and weaving a long defensive line there was like plucking the moon from the sky.

The Demon World wasn’t foolish. If they did it, there were secrets in the stone above.

“Of course. The foot of the mountain is the last line. There are more units up top. The things in the Abyss aren’t something a few thousand at the base can handle.”

A neat stone road spiraled up, each slab laid square. Thick white fog pooled along it, a sea of milk that swallowed sight. The path up vanished a few steps ahead.

“Please don’t stir your Arcane Power. Once we’re on the mountain, the defensive array will engage. You won’t see below. Don’t panic, or the peak guards will counterattack. In a place like this, we have to stay sensitive.”

Fenrir’s hands spread in a helpless gesture. Aphelia nodded. No argument there.

“Miss Aphelia, how much do you know about the Abyss?”

They walked in Fenrir’s wake. Fog muffled the world, yet her voice stayed clear, always a few steps ahead—never closer, never farther.

“I’ve heard a little. Nothing like what you know. You command the garrison. The Abyss has been calm for years; that’s your credit.”

The praise landed like warm wine. Fenrir chuckled and continued.

“After the first Calamity of the Abyss, the monsters attacked again and again. Each wave hit harder, trying to break the Knights’ line. Stationing a full army on the peak was almost impossible.”

“The monsters were like rats. They’d been around for years, but they fought like several legions. They turned our fallen into their own kind. And each one hit harder than our Demon World regulars. If not for several Demonic Knights holding the breach with sheer skill, we would’ve lost more than a few provinces.”

They climbed. Aphelia’s steps faltered a fraction; she kept moving. She said nothing. Pure white Aether thinned into hair-fine threads and seeped into the stone beneath her feet.

“Then Master Merlin took the field. With His Majesty the Demon King, they smashed the horde with thunderous force and drove them back into the Abyss. Three Demonic Knights fell there, and that famed knightly order with them.”

Fenrir stopped. She turned and pointed at the stone road.

“Miss Aphelia, with your True God strength, you’ve noticed what’s in the slabs, haven’t you?”

Aphelia nodded. Her face sank like a sky before rain. “These stones are mixed with the refined remains of Titleholders. Their Arcane Power and their Title power are etched into the road itself. Am I wrong?”

Surprise sparked in Fenrir’s eyes, then softened into a smile. “As expected of a True God. When I became a Titleholder, I could only feel something hidden. The part about Title power—His Majesty had to tell me.”

“And the bones in here…”

“Yes. Those three Demonic Knights. And their entire order.”

She turned and led them upward.

“To solve the Abyss, even our archmages had no method. They couldn’t touch something that vast. Because beneath it lay the thing you’ve come to find—the World Will.”

“Master Merlin’s return changed that. He used the three Demonic Knights and the whole order to forge a layered array. Souls and strength as medium. A seal that never stops. Every powerhouse then called it cruel and cold-blooded. But it was the last reed to clutch.”

“They were too loyal…”

Her voice lowered. Her pace slowed. She ran her fingers along a pillar by the road, stone cold as old bone.

Aphelia sighed, thinking of mortals she’d met. “Only devotion that looks like folly could build something like this.”

“Each pillar in this array carries one Titleholder’s power. That elite order had one hundred and fifty. This ring of pillars to the mountainside—one hundred and fifty in all.”

“Under Master Merlin’s grand design, the array inverted and drew from a high-grade Mana Crystal vein below. It became the garrison’s guarding formation. But that means constant Arcane Power flows. It keeps those already-tormented knights from ever knowing rest.”

The words faded as their feet left the last of the stone road. They stepped into the encampment on the peak.