5th Day of the 1st Fire Cycle[1], 2000 g.c.
Speeding through the open paths carved by the towering amberwood trees, Nightcrawler glided down the dirt road like a predator stalking its prey. The triple moons above painted everything in a soft, eerie hue—one silver, one blue, one crimson—casting streaks of celestial light across the canopy and the shimmering hood of the Nightcrawler. The obsidium remix chassis drank in the glow and reflected it with a subtle sheen, like polished stone blessed by shadow.
Inside, the six-wheeled beast purred in flawless harmony with the road. There was no rocking. No bump. Just a smooth hum beneath our feet as the suspension turned every dip and rut into a gentle sigh. The whispering winds slipping in through the barely audible AC vents carried a blend of cool air and a rich, nostalgic aroma—Black Ice. The scent wrapped itself around us like a memory from Earth, triggering flashes of city streets, midnight drives, and everything I'd left behind. Reclining in those velvet-lined, voidsilk cushioned seats—custom-fit for indulgence—it felt less like we were preparing for a battle, and more like a goddamn luxury cruise.
Dream Flower blinked out the window, her brows furrowed in a rare expression of confusion. "How does it ride so smoothly? Many wagon rides are uncomfortably bumpy. But you can barely feel anything in here."
"That, my dear," I said with a smirk as I leaned into the wheel, "is the magic behind tire suspension. If you think that's impressive, wait till I put you on game about power steering."
Nicole traced the silver filigree lining the door interior, her pale fingers drawn to the contours like she was reading a spell in Braille. "What kind of technology is this, Your Majesty? How do you even learn something so… alien?"
"You'll be amazed at what men can do when they chase greatness," I said, eyes fixed forward on the trail lit by mana-powered headlights.
Alex snapped his fingers and leaned back with a grin. "Hell yeah, bro."
The road sloped downward before leveling out in front of a tall wooden gate reinforced with crimson plating and tribal etchings. Standing vigil at the entrance to Panty Raider territory were twelve Pandaren archers, armored in glinting bronze bikini sets that left almost nothing to the imagination. Each one was a tall, well-built Beast-Woman Sociovore—their fur a perfect contrast of ivory white and ink black. Their panda-like features were paired with expressions of stern caution, and not one of them looked remotely impressed by our arrival.
Their composite bows notched with poison-tipped arrows were already drawn and aimed at the Nightcrawler. Bicorns—equestrian beasts with two spiraling horns and a sleek obsidian hide—snorted beside them, hitched in groups of two and pawing at the ground with irritation. Their confusion was painted clear as daylight. Eyebrows furrowed, ears twitching, lips moving silently as they murmured to one another, unsure whether to attack or admire. They'd never seen anything like the Nightcrawler—no reins, no beast pulling it, and no arcane glyphs to suggest it was being levitated.
One of the Pandaren broke formation, her thick thighs striding in smooth dominance as she made her way toward the driver's side. Her snout wrinkled slightly, not out of aggression, but authority. Still, her tone grated on my nerves the moment she opened her mouth.
"Halt! You there, Majin... Who are you with, and what is this contraption you are mounting?"
She said it with a kind of condescension that made my neck twitch.
Maybe it was her tone. Maybe it was the subtle way her voice had that you-don't-belong-here edge. Either way, I didn't like it.
My pupils flared—my soul's aura reacting before I could even speak. With a single breath, I activated a wide-cast [Charm], pushing my mana out like a warm fog. The spell draped itself across the entire squad in a wave of soft pinkish-gold shimmer, invisible to the naked eye but vibrating through the soul like a forbidden lullaby. The Pandaren guards froze mid-breath. Every bowstring fell slack. Their once-suspicious expressions softened like they'd just caught sight of an old friend. Minds ensnared. Hearts melted. Total control.
Alex let out a low chuckle. "Hahaha. I was wondering what your plan was."
"How about you try addressing me again, woman," I said, never breaking eye contact with the squad leader.
She blinked twice, then lowered her head gracefully. "My apologies, my lord. I did not mean to offend."
Dream tilted her head with a playful grin. "Hehehe. She even looks a lot friendlier now."
It was true. Her body language was different now—shoulders relaxed, lips softened, even her short tail swatted gently. It was almost... cute.
"I want you to go forth and warn the heads of the Panty Raiders that Demon Lord Xiro Mikazuki is coming," I said, raising my voice just enough for the entire squad to hear. "Tell those bitches to have the red carpet rolled out."
No one objected. Not a blink of hesitation. All twelve women bowed in unison, climbed onto their bicorns, and rode off down the winding trail beneath the ancient Sycamore Tree like loyal scouts sent by royalty.
Dream whispered as the last one vanished from view. "Did you all see how easily he took control of their minds? So many with no effort."
Alex nodded. "Yeah, Xiro's a nightmare when you're not on the same side as him."
Ameera's eyes glowed with a flicker of renewed hope. "With an ability like that, we could find my father's location in no time."
"That sounds good and shit," I replied, pulling the steering wheel slightly to angle back toward the main path, "but I've learned that it ain't never that easy."
She turned to me, curiosity burning in her tone. "What do you mean, Your Majesty?"
Alex spoke up before I could answer. "What he means is, even with his divine abilities, life has a way of making things difficult."
I nodded. "Exactly. You gotta be ready for the fuckery."
Nicole leaned forward slightly, her eyes locked on me with a strange intensity. "That's where you're wrong, Your Highness… There is nothing you can't do, my lord."
The air thickened. Something in her tone—so firm, so unshakably sure—hit me harder than a sword to the gut. Faith. Pure, unapologetic faith. The kind that didn't come from logic or proof. Just pure belief.
An internal ping echoed through my skull, followed by the calm voice of [Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi].
"New Follower gained. Installing a faith connection of Xirotation to the Dhampir, Nicole Kanra."
"Well damn," I thought. "That can't be good with her Crest of Holy Madness."
"They won't become alerted to it until her faith in you surpasses her subconscious faith in the Church," [Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi] clarified with detached serenity.
"Talk about an ironic death," [Midnight Star: Belial] chimed in, dark amusement in his tone. "Killed for believing in Boss's awesomeness."
His comment settled like acid in my chest. I had spared Nicole, chosen mercy over execution. Yet somehow, her death was still orbiting me, tethered by threads I didn't fully understand. Was this fate? Destini's quiet manipulations again?
I looked back at Nicole. The girl who was once tasked with watching me now practically worshipped me. The faith shimmered off her like heat off asphalt. And all I could think was—'Damn. One day she might kill herself—just for believing in me.'
I shook my head, letting my dreadlocks whip gently as they caught wind. That kind of paranoia wasn't productive right now.
I rolled the window back up and shifted gears. Nightcrawler purred in response. The road ahead was dark, but alive with energy. The Sycamore Tree loomed in the distance—an impossibly tall monolith of twisted wood and glowing sap, branches clawing at the heavens like skeletal arms. We were half a mile out from the masquerade, and shit was looking like a fun time was about to be had, one way or another.
Pulling up in front of the Sycamore Tree was like rolling to a stop at the base of a skyscraper carved by Giants. The base alone towered like a cathedral of bark, gnarled roots twisted like petrified tentacles into the earth, and the tree's trunk ascended endlessly into a swirling galaxy of emerald leaves and phosphorescent moss that shimmered with mana under the tri-moonlight. It was a monument to nature's arrogance—untouched, undefeated, and defiant.
The air around it vibrated faintly, thick with the hum of enchantments so old they felt like part of the wind itself. There was something nostalgic in that moment, too. Like walking into a storybook I'd forgotten was mine.
The Pandarens—still under the lingering effects of my [Charm]—were already in formation at the entrance. All twelve had lined up in flawless symmetry, surrounding a woman who stood out like ebony glass in a sea of onyx fur. Her posture was effortless, sensual even in stillness. Hands resting gently on her pelvis, hips tilted just slightly in the way that made everything feel like a tease. That confident allure could only belong to one person: the sixth Sonata Core herself.
Luvina Puff.
Four of the Pandaren women moved with synchronized grace to my vehicle, opening Nightcrawler's butterfly doors in slow, ceremonial fashion. With them lifted high like wings, the Nightcrawler looked less like a machine and more like a mythical beast caught mid-transformation. The doors released a gentle mist of cool air, carrying the scent of leather and Black Ice, cutting through the wild floral and pheromonal spice that surrounded the Sycamore.
The Pandarens then dropped to one knee in reverence, forming a path up the moss-lined staircase that led into the tree's glowing entrance. Their movement was choreographed like a play—fluid, loyal, beautiful.
Alex's chuckle came right on cue.
"You know, Xi? I could get used to this kind of treatment."
"You already know," I said, not even touching the ground as I lifted myself with [Axis Flight], hands tucked in my pants pockets. "King shit."
I floated forward on a breeze of my own making, barely disturbing the air as the tails of my coat rippled behind me like sentient cloth. Moonlight bounced off my three-eyed shades, making it hard to tell where I was looking, which, ironically, gave me the advantage. Luvina's eyes were already locked onto the reflections, studying me in silence.
The scent hit me before her voice ever did—ambergris and cinnamon laced with honey. It was decadent. Animalistic. Designed to lure and linger. And just beneath that scent, her mana signature pulsed like a slow drum—dense, coiled, but elegant. Unmistakably lethal.
She was shorter than I by a head at least, but stood with a presence that challenged size. Her face was half-hidden behind a black lace cat mask, but her expression was open, sultry, and deliberate. She studied me the way a tiger watches another predator that's gotten too close.
Her inner thoughts drifted loud enough that I caught the emotional frequency.
"His aura is so dark and potent, yet it feels endless. Like a void wrapped in seduction. Damnit, why did he have to be cute, too?"
For a half-second, I watched a tremble strike her left leg. Subtle, almost imperceptible—but there. She caught it, too, and gathered herself back up like nothing happened. But I'd already seen it.
Finally, she parted her dark, glossed lips. "And here I thought all of the VIP guests had made their way in already. I'm Luvina Puff, the Madam of this fine establishment. What winds should I thank for blowing in such a handsome devil?"
Her voice was warm, like velvet wrapped in sin.
"Well, well," I said, tilting my head. "I've never seen your kind before. Even your mana signature's something unique—Xeno-Human, right? So you're the Umdori she mentioned. I wasn't expecting an alien to have such a lovely set of tits on it."
"On her, not it," she corrected with a playful but pointed glance. "And don't you think it's rude to compliment a woman's breasts before even introducing yourself?"
I cracked a small grin. "Don't you think it's rude to introduce yourself to a Demon Lord with a clone?"
She stiffened just slightly, her breath catching with a small noise of surprise. "Uh! I…"
Her gaze flicked upward instinctively, then darted back to mine. She blinked once, twice. A forced smile returned to her lips, smoother than before but not quite as sharp.
"I bet you were. But I'm sure your gate guards already let you know who I am. Let's skip the foreplay. We're both not new to this."
"But I'd rather we don't, Demon Lord Xiro," she purred. "How else do you expect a girl to get in the mood?"
"Fine," I said, lifting an eyebrow. "But I better not end up with blue balls."
That earned a sultry laugh. "Hehehehe. You're quite charming… in a primal way. I was even impressed you realized I was just a clone so quickly."
"It was easy," I said, giving her a quick once-over. "A body is right in front of me, but the pulse of your Soul Core? That's coming from above, not in front. Rookie mistake."
"You don't say…" Her tone had shifted, like she was mentally moving pieces on a chessboard. "Well, once you make it to the top floor, you'll meet the real me. In the flesh. I promise it won't disappoint."
"Seems I'm the one who'll disappoint," I said coolly. "I'm here for business. Not pleasure."
Her eyes flared just slightly behind the mask, but she kept the mask of flirtation intact. "I know you seek the Blood Witch... Kiranna. But if you're willing to entertain me with a little more foreplay…" She stepped closer, her hand brushing against mine for the briefest second, "...I'll be more than willing to give her over to you. Along with information on the Angels."
The second she said Angels, my brain lit up like a cathedral during a thunderstorm. My patience was thinning fast—but so was my resistance to curiosity.
"Angels?" I echoed, deadpan.
She nodded slowly. "Mmhm."
I paused. Let the air stretch for a moment between us. She smelled like temptation. Talked like trouble. Looked like sex with good lighting.
"…Fine," I said. "I'll hear you out."
She beamed. Not with any innocence, but with victory. "Thank you, Kind devil."
As Luvina and I wrapped up our teasing introductions—every word soaked in double meanings and lustful tension—Alex and the girls finally made their way up the grand staircase. Their steps echoed with caution and curiosity, the magicked wood beneath them humming faintly with residual mana. They found us eye-fucking each other like two predators sizing up a mate—and a meal.
Luvina, ever so smooth, shifted her stance with a delicate grace. It wasn't fear. It was calculated restraint. The flirtatious fire in her eyes dimmed, tempered just enough to keep the moment presentable in front of company. With a subtle nod of her chin and a quiet, sultry laugh, she broke eye contact and turned to greet the rest of my crew.
"More of the Devil's entourage joins us," she said, her voice as silky as the gown she wore. "Welcome to the Sycamore Tree. I am Lady Luvina Puff. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Alex smirked and gave a respectful nod. "Nice to meet you. Alex Zo of the Mikazuki Clan."
I stepped forward slightly, hands still buried in my pockets, as I took the attention away from the women. "Don't worry about their names. These women are part of my Royal Guard. They'll be accompanying me and my lil' bro."
Dream Flower tilted her head slightly. "Huh?"
"Hush. Follow my lead," I whispered through [Telepathy]. "I don't need her alerting the other witches of a name one of them may recognize."
"Yes, sir," Dream replied silently, her expression shifting back into her resting battle-face.
"Understood, Your Majesty," Nicole echoed.
"Brilliant idea, Lord Xiro," Ameera added with a graceful flick of her wrist, hiding her mouth as if to stifle a yawn—her way of feigning disinterest while scanning Luvina for threats.
"You will find other noblemen inside with a similar style for security," Luvina noted. She offered them all a practiced smile, but I noticed her eyes lingered on Alex. Not romantically, just...observational. Like she was calculating something.
"No lie, Xi," Alex muttered under his breath. "Looking at Lady Luvina is making me feel overdressed."
He gave her lewd silk gown a second look—and I didn't blame him. The threads themselves shimmered, as if they were woven from starbeams and promises. Magitons converted into semi-transparent mana-fibers clung to her body like they were desperate never to let go. Ameera caught him ogling and subtly shifted her head with a silent scoff. I felt the laughter bubble up in my chest, but played it cool.
Luvina's voice drifted like incense smoke. "There is only one true clothing rule to tonight's event, and that is you must wear a mask of some sort to enter."
"A true midnight masquerade, huh?" I mused aloud.
"One you'll never find anywhere else."
"Fine," I said with a shrug. "I'll play along for a while... or until I get bored."
I flicked my fingers open like I was preparing to count. Four tiny orbs of rotating Omnis Mana spun above each digit—cool, smooth, and dark like pearls made of ink and lightning. I tilted my hand and flung the orbs across to each of them. They struck their faces with feather-like gentleness and instantly unfolded into animal masks: Alex's became a sharp wolf, Dream's a bold bear, Nicole's a cunning bat, and Ameera's a sly fox. Each was laced with silken thread in a design that mirrored Luvina's cat-like motif.
While the others adjusted theirs, I reached into my memory. That damn mask I picked up from Jerrica's Labyrinth—Death's Mask. It flashed into my mind like an intrusive thought I couldn't ignore. It was dark, elegant, and dramatic as hell. Definitely had cringy edgelord written all over it, but the idea of showing up at a party wearing literal death? Kinda had me bricked up. Not gon lie.
"...Yeah, I got something cooler in mind for me."
With a single slash of my index finger, I opened a portal into the [Midnight World] and retrieved it. The moment that obsidian mask—smooth as glass, yet etched with faint carvings of mournful runes—touched my hand, knowledge crashed into my brain like a psionic flood.
"Death's Mask allows the wearer to manipulate the very aspects of death within themselves, allowing True Revival up to three times a day. The mask drains MP while equipped and will subvert the user to succumb to their truest form of self, the longer it is worn," [Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi] said calmly.
"You have no idea what you're implying with this kind of ability, I thought. But we'll talk about that later. This might actually let me bring Shukaku back."
[Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi] shut that idea down quickly. "Incorrect, Master. Besides the loss of all psions and his Soul Core, the mask cannot restore life. It only negates death."
[Midnight Star: Belial] crept in. "You should worry more about the side effects. Succumbing to your truest form means leaning into your dark desires as well."
"I ain't concerned with that shit. I run this, not my urges."
Silence.
"See? Just let me cook. We need that information from Luvina. If she knows more about the Angels, that's worth more than gold."
I was feeling myself. The kind of arrogant high you get after consecutive wins and power surges. I thought I was untouchable.
But I was about to learn the truth the hard way: my biggest enemy had always been... me.
The moment the mask touched my face, everything changed.
A piercing guttural roar—half my voice, half Belial's—exploded inside my skull. I staggered, trying to stay upright as a flood of suppressed trauma surged through me like a hurricane made of knives. Earth memories. Pain. Resentment. The betrayal. My fury at the game we were all trapped in.
Then came the lust. Violent. Dominant. Pervasive. I wanted to fuck, conquer, devour. And under it all, the drive to destroy. To raze. To undo. Chaos.
Was this who I really was? Not a king. Not a leader. Just a chaotic beast dressed in silk and ego.
My body responded with primal instinct. A bubble of Devil Mana formed around me, ready to defend. But the instability... oh, it backfired. My aura surged outward in a tidal wave of violent power, shaking the Sycamore Tree down to its ancient roots. The ground cracked. Nearby walls trembled. Wind curled unnaturally. Mana screamed.
Luvina and the others turned toward me, unsure whether to run, fight, or simply marvel. Some shouted, some reached for me, others waited.
But inside my head? I was losing.
The power I used to command was now pressing against me like a tidal wave, and I couldn't swim. I was drowning in myself. The constant pounding of an unpredictable force was beating me harder the more I fought back. Just when I thought I'd snap—when the mask would devour me entirely—I stopped struggling and relaxed. The thought of me losing to a mask was too stupid for me to accept. I was Xiro. Not a victim to power.
Then something ancient and patient stirred. A steel wire pulled tight across my spine—[Strong Spirit] kicked in like divine CPR. Then the beast inside me—[Adaptive Predator]—snapped awake, and I could breathe again.
It roared to life like a werewolf freed from its cage. My mind cleared just enough to stand. But I wasn't the same.
"Did you change your mind, Xi?" Alex asked cautiously.
I let out a chuckle—deep, guttural. "Ha... ha... ha... ha."
He stepped closer. "Nigga, are you even of sound mind?"
My mask shifted. The surface warped into something new—my iconic three-eyed shades—only now the lenses pulsed with indigo mana. I grinned like a monster wearing a man's skin.
"I've never felt better."
Eyes widened. Even Luvina's lips parted slightly. My aura spun around me like a vortex of midnight petals. I felt good. Free. Like I had broken a lock I didn't know I was wearing. Every cell in my body was high on some cosmic molly. Floating somewhere between nirvana and madness. My voice was darker, laced with [Midnight Star: Belial]'s undertone. We weren't fighting anymore—we were vibing. Harmonizing. One. A remix of sin and sovereignty.
"Let's go find some pussies to play with," I growled.
Dream turned her head slightly, brow furrowed. "Is King Xiro truly fine? He seems a bit… changed."
Ameera's voice was low. "He seems wild. Even more dangerous."
Nicole leaned in, whispering almost breathlessly. "Why is that sexy to me?"
"I understand what you mean, Ms. Bodyguard," Luvina said, her voice suddenly breathy. Her legs pressed subtly together as she studied me again, a scientist marveling at a perfect specimen.
Alex, ever confident in my chaos, nodded. "Xiro's fine. He's got it under control now."
"Maybe he does," Luvina thought, her smile never fading. "But I can recognize energy born of desire from anywhere. The Devil may have a chink in his armor that I can strike at. Promising..."
"If we're done here," I said, adjusting my coat, "I'm heading in."
"One thing before you go," Luvina added. "As long as you're within the Sycamore Tree, you may be approached with a Duel of Dominance. A battle where losing would place you under the will of the winner for the remainder of the party."
"Now you're giving me a hard-on."
"The higher you get within the great tree, the more the dangers increase. You can refuse to battle, but the tree will forcefully reset you back to the ground floor."
Dream tilted her head. "What happens if you die?"
"You die," Luvina said plainly, no malice, just fact.
"First my erection, now you have my attention," I said, chuckling. "This just might be fun."
Luvina leaned closer. "If you reach the top, I promise our meeting will be worth it."
"I'll be there soon. Keep it wet for me."
She blew me a kiss—and with a shimmer of Yin Mana, her clone dispersed like shattered blacklight. I stepped forward, shoulders high, heart thumping, mana pulsing wild and untamed beneath my skin. Alex and the girls joined me as we walked into the ballroom of shadows and sin.
I wasn't just attending the masquerade anymore.
I was the party.
The masquerade itself did not disappoint. It was a decadent opera of lust, violence, and mana flowing like vintage wine. To my left, bare breasts jiggled with laughter, dunked in wine, licked by tongues that didn't care for names or history. To my right, three women in opal pink lace gave head to a man with a peacock-feathered mask, all moaning as if the entire ballroom was a stage and they were the headliners. Straight ahead, two duels of raw magickal prowess played out in silenced zones—tight bubbles of warped air where weapons clashed and bodies twisted in high-speed combat, yet not a single sound breached the barrier to disturb the rest of the sinful gala.
The air was thick—thick with dark incense and heavy mana. It flowed like black smoke, only visible thanks to my [Heaven's Kaleidoscope], and was being carefully funneled somewhere above us, like someone had cracked open a vein in the world and was harvesting the juice. I clocked it, but didn't act yet. There were other things demanding attention.
The music was… haunting, but jamming. Strings strummed by the broken fingers of Zillans, their bodies looking half-drained, kept alive only by some magickally induced desperation. Each note bled sex and sorrow, twisted in minor chords over a bass drum that sounded like the heart of some monster trying not to die. The shit was slappin'.
But none of that compared to the amount of fucking happening.
"Ayo," I muttered, elbowing Alex, "look at them freaks gettin' busy on the dancefloor."
Ameera looked horrified, her face frozen mid-step. "What kind of place is this?"
Alex cocked his head, eyes scanning the room like he was still trying to figure out the script. "I thought it was a brothel at first."
"I'm not convinced it's not," Dream added dryly, adjusting her bear mask with a tight grin.
Nicole blinked, her cheeks blooming red. "There are a lot of naked bodies in here…"
"Oh yes," I said with a grin, letting my tongue flick across my teeth. "The smell of pussy is strong in here."
The three women blushed and flounced in perfect comedic timing. Nicole tried to hide her face behind Dream's shoulder. Dream crossed her arms with a "tsk," while Ameera shot me a glare she probably thought was scary. It wasn't.
Alex coughed and pointed. "There go the stairs over there. Let's just head up to the next level. Maybe somebody knows where the prisoners are."
We didn't even get five steps before we were stopped.
Standing in front of us was a tall, curved tank of a woman. A Caprigyne—one of the goat-kin sociovores. Her horns curled back like a ram's, her fur white-gray and smooth over taut, feminine muscle with the abdomen exposed. Her eyes had that eerie horizontal pupil thing, and her nostrils flared with each breath like she was trying to inhale our power through her nose. She wore minimal armor—mostly decorative—and a silk sash that somehow emphasized her strength and beauty simultaneously.
Her voice was deep, yet sultry. "Wait, powerful dark one. I am Clanmistress Karissa of the Mbuzi, and I can't help but smell great strength and magickal power within you... And your friend." She turned her nose toward Alex. "It is part of my people's culture to breed with all strong men. I will have you two mate with me."
Ameera's eyes bulged. "Wait, what?!"
Alex nearly choked. "Huh?"
I held back a smirk. "You know, fucking a goat sounds like an old fraternity hazing story I once heard."
"What are you talking about, Xi?" Alex asked, visibly uncomfortable.
"Nothing. Just looking at this chick's tits and giving it an honest consideration."
Dream raised an eyebrow, side-eyeing me with judgment. "Into the more furry and hairy kind?"
"I actually like it shaved."
Nicole, without thinking, mumbled, "Noted. Oops!"
Dream whipped her head around. "Nicole, Nicole."
"Sorry!" Nicole covered her mouth. "Don't know where that came from."
Karissa stepped forward, muscles flexing beneath her fur. "You Woollings do not need to be concerned with what he likes. He will be breeding me tonight. As will the one who smells of Tengu."
Turning her muzzle toward me was already bold, but when she turned toward Alex and winked, that was a line Ameera wasn't letting her cross.
Without hesitation, the Vulpin woman stepped forward and delivered a savage backhand across Karissa's face. The crack echoed, followed by Karissa skidding backwards—hooved feet grinding sparks into the floor—until she stopped nearly twelve yards away.
Ameera's tail flared with silver flames. "Lord Alex is off limits. Fix your appetite elsewhere."
And just like that, the tree responded.
A spatial shift rippled through the air around them. A soft, shimmery pulse, like someone dropped a stone into still liquid mana. The air around them warped like heat haze on chrome, not restraining, but isolating. Inside that barrier, the floor cracked and reformed, with floating islands rising where tile had once been, all framed in a light that pulsed between violet and blood red. The battlefield widened: stretched into a full arena. A visual trick was played over us, letting us watch as if they stood right in front of us, still.
I blinked, realizing the mana running through the Sycamore Tree had a personality. Not just a system, but an intent. The spiritons inside reminded me of an Anima—a spirit-form. This tree had control over space within itself, manipulating reality like a skilled bard reworking a melody. The power here… it was interesting.
And this was only the first floor.
I stuffed my hands in my pockets and floated gently above the ground. "Well," I muttered to Alex, "this just got interesting."
Dream Flower and Nicole had no hesitation leaping into cheerleader mode for their Vulpin friend. Despite the dangerous undertone of the duel unfolding before us, they seemed energized by it—maybe because it broke the usual pattern, or maybe because seeing Ameera act boldly for Alex hit a nerve they liked.
"Go Ameera! Kick her ass!" Dream shouted, voice playful but laced with real support.
Nicole leaned in, her tone more cautious. "I'm not sure if Ameera can handle the physical strength of a Caprigyne. It might be a tough match-up."
Dream didn't blink. "Then this will be exciting. It's my first time seeing her fight."
"At least their mana signature feels near equal," Nicole added, her sharp senses narrowing on the dueling pair.
She wasn't wrong. Both mana pools pulsed with similar power, throwing ripples across the barrier like sonic waves through glass. But Nicole didn't catch the finer details. Karissa's mana was dense, concentrated like magma beneath bedrock. That told me she'd been through dozens of battles, maybe hundreds. She'd refined her force, built up that spiritual pressure from years of muscle memory and bloody victories.
Ameera? She had passion. She had instincts. But if she wanted to win, she'd need more than just heart.
I glanced to my right, then back at the battlefield with a grin curling my lip. A dumb, chaotic idea popped into my head—and that's usually when the best things happen. I raised my hand, shaped the mana like clay, and formed a sleek pedestal beside the edge of the spatial ring. A sharp vertical pulse—whoompf!—and a portal opened underneath Alex's feet. In a blink, he dropped out of thin air and landed right in the middle of the platform, looking around in confusion as the warp closed behind him.
"What the hell, bro?" he barked, brushing off his jacket.
I leaned back into my own theatrics, arms folded. "I mean, since you're the prize."
He squinted at me, half-annoyed, half-smirking. "You got jokes tonight, I see."
"What can I say? I love a good cat fight."
With no shame, I conjured my own throne next. A tall, ridiculous thing made from obsidium remix with velvet trims, spiked arches, and glowing runes so extra it looked like I was the lord of this horny little tree kingdom. I leaned into the pose as particles of Omnis Mana shimmered into form around me, catching the eyes of several nearby guests. Now, everyone was watching Ameera and Karissa. Good. Let the stakes rise.
Then, a snap of my fingers.
Ameera's elegant dress unraveled and reshaped midair, replaced with a sleeker, more combat-friendly two-piece. Deep blue, cut high on the hips, reinforced where it needed to be, but still sensual as hell. Of course, with Death's Mask on, my creations were... flavored. The outfit leaned hard into lewd seduction while keeping her nimble with some secret protections. I liked it. Alex loved it. She didn't complain.
[Sage Wisdom] kicked in, feeding me stats like an RPG menu whispering in my head. Caprigynes like Karissa? They were raised in cultures where physical dominance was law. Combat. Mating. Hierarchy. It was all measured in strength and superiority. Blood Rights dictated leadership, breeding privileges, even who got to pass down their Combat Arts. So yeah—beating another woman's ass to earn the right to fuck her man was just another Tuesday for them.
"To think the Caprigyne would know the Panty Raiders this personally," I murmured, not even trying to hide my thoughts.
Dream Flower nodded, still watching the ring. "Oh, I heard that many of their clans were becoming bandits, but I didn't think they were working under the witches' command."
That struck a nerve.
Karissa, mid-stretch before the fight, whipped her head in our direction. "You there," she called, her tone sharp. "You speak what you don't know. The Mbuzi Clan and the Panty Raiders have a truce and trade agreement. I respect the Panty Raiders' creed of rebellion and female freedom, but that's where it ends."
I raised a brow. "So they can still hear us while in a separate spatial area? Noted."
Inside me, [Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi] whispered, "Analyzing Spatial Battlefield."
Karissa turned her gaze back to Ameera, nostrils flaring with anticipation. "And thanks to them, I'll get to breed with both a powerful Oni and Tengu tonight. And neither of them will be able to walk tomorrow."
The arrogance in her voice hit like a slap. Her tone wasn't cruel—just sure. Confident. In her mind, the match was already over.
But Ameera's stare was ice. Her byzantine blue eyes locked onto the Caprigyne's bladed whip. There was no witty comeback. No pouting, no fluster. Just a rising storm of emotion she hadn't even fully named yet—desire, fury, possessiveness—and she aimed it straight at her opponent.
She was driven.
And me? I leaned back in my throne, conjured some butter-soaked popcorn with a flick of mana, and started munching.
No matter how it ended, this was going to be a damn good show.
[End of Chapter]
[1] April on Earth