Planet Noxis – Midnight Covenant's Core Sanctum
The throne chamber was quiet.
The usual hum of bugs and whispers of dark mana were absent. The crystalline device at the center of the room pulsed softly, almost gently, as though aware that something had shifted.
Nidhogg sat on his throne, unmoving, brooding.
His claws tapped the armrest in a slow, steady rhythm, each click echoing across the obsidian chamber. The wound Robin left, already healed, still ached in his mind more than his flesh. A wound to his reputation. A crack in his aura of invincibility.
One by one, the Fullbringers entered.
Odin. Achlys. Phoenix. Tempo. Gerald. Montgomery. Lenatti. Karma.
None of them spoke until Karma, who remained on the planet to safeguard spoke up. "I take it we failed."
Gerald, as ever, took the lead. "We failed to eliminate the Archbishop."
Karma's eyes grew wide in astonishment, "They sent an Archbishop?"
Achlys bowed her head slightly. "Their constructs were more resilient than expected. Coordinated deployment. Full reinforcements. They planned for our strongest."
Montgomery tapped his cane lightly. "I should've drawn the Archangel off sooner."
"What's an Archangel?" Karma questioned out loud.
Odin frowned, folding his arms. "We were reactive… not proactive."
Gerald lowered his voice. "We'll take responsibility." Nidhogg blinked.
And then he laughed. Cold. Dismissive. Almost amused.
"Responsibility?" he repeated, rising from the throne. His presence pushed the air down like gravity.
He descended the steps slowly, eyes scanning each of them. "You think I sent you to win?"
No one answered.
"I sent you to test them."
He paused, stopping before Phoenix.
"And test them we did." His voice grew colder.
"They showed us coordination. They showed us their ambushes, their fallback patterns. They showed us their best. We got Archangels out of them. They sent an Archbishop."
He turned away from them.
"I bled for a single moment, and they declared it a victory."
His tone was quiet now. Almost reverent.
"But we learned so much more than they did. That they view us a threat."
Elsewhere – Training Grounds
That night, the Fullbringers gathered in pairs across the various training sanctums carved into the black mountains of Noxis.
Achlys sliced through mannequins crafted from hardened Church steel, testing new poisons made to bypass divine resistance.
Tempo worked inside a time-bubble, speeding and slowing the flow of mana around him, trying to distort the movements of light spells he memorized during the Elaris fight.
Phoenix meditated in a chamber of soul flame, channeling the lives she'd stolen, burning through the weaker ones and refining the stronger.
Montgomery walked labyrinthine halls in pitch black, sharpening his hearing further, preparing for a day when even those who don't "listen" will hear his call.
Gerald punched against gravity seals, reciting Nidhogg's belief in him after every blow, strengthening the connection between invocation and action.
Odin rewrote his runes, looking to improve them without wasting so much mana.
Lenatti practiced with a dagger by herself, looking not be useless with her bear.
Karma looked to unlock the hidden spells in the book that was bound to him that made him a Fullbringer.
Each one had made the same vow. Never again.
Never again would it take multiple Fullbringers to fight a single Archbishop. Each of them would become the executioner of saints.
Meanwhile Planet Celestia
Location: High Hall of Luminous – Church Command Citadel
The Holy Banner of the Church hung lowered in the Grand Hall, a rare symbol of loss, one the Cardinals would never publicly acknowledge, but privately understood.
Archbishop Virell stood in a healing ward, flanked by high-ranking priests. Her body trembled from residual soul erosion. Her mana well was fractured. But her voice was steady as she gave her report.
"He was no ordinary demon," she whispered. "His magic moves like a plague. It learns. It adapts. And it consumes."
High Archbishop Iscariot sat with his chin on his hand, studying the information given to him from the battle.
"Why did he retreat?"
"A girl," Virell said. "Robin, I believe. Wind and light magic, a natural attunement to both."
"The last survivor of Greenwake," murmured one Deacon.
High Archbishop Iscariot closed his eyes. "So be it."
He stood and walked toward the dais at the head of the chamber. All within bowed. Even the Archbishops.
"This Midnight Covenant…" he began, "...has transcended cult status. They are no longer fragmented radicals. They are a unified army. With leaders. Discipline. Objectives."
He turned, voice deepening with divine command.
"As of this day, by the authority of the Church and the will of Luminous, they are to be considered a heretical nation."
"War is declared."
He raised his staff.
"All planets under Church control are to purge any suspected Covenant agents. Local militias are to be activated. The Midnight Covenant is no longer to be captured."
He lowered his voice.
"Only exterminated."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Unfortunate news for everyone but me: I'm going on vacation this week. After Wednesday, don't expect a chapter until next week Tuesday. Don't worry, if anything happens to me, I've updated my will that a random person who donates power stones will inherit this story.