The obsidian chamber of the Spirit Hunters' stronghold glowed faintly, its walls etched with runes that pulsed with Mahito's energy. Julius stood alone, his dark cloak tattered from the battle against the Mindless White God, its stolen powers—Ra's fire, Zeus's lightning, Buddha's resilience—still haunting his memory. The celebration of Ragnarok Infinity's defeat had passed, but Mahito's warning echoed: a new shadow stirred, tied to the hierarchy of spirits. Julius's contract with the First Spirit King burned in his chest, urging him to learn more.
"Mahito," Julius said, his voice firm. "You showed me the hierarchy—Mindless Spirits to the Spirit Kings. But who are the Kings? Give me their names."
Mahito's spectral form materialized, a regal silhouette crowned with ethereal flames. The air grew heavy, the stronghold's skeletal guards outside clattering nervously. One skeleton, trying to salute, dropped its arm, the bone skittering across the floor. Julius stifled a grin—his infinite army was powerful but clumsy, a comedic reminder of the war's lighter moments.
"The eight Spirit Kings are the pillars of existence," Mahito began, his voice like a cosmic tide. "Their names carry power, hunter. Speak them wisely, for they shape the war you fight to end Ragnarok."
A vision bloomed, a cosmic void with eight thrones, each radiating a unique aura. Julius gripped his blade, ready for truths that could shake the heavens.
"I am Mahito, the First Spirit King, Origin," Mahito declared, his throne blazing with creation's spark. "I forge spirits, binding them to hunters like you. My contract grants your infinite skeletons, a gift of creation's will."
Julius nodded, feeling the weight of his skeletal legions, their bones born from Mahito's power. The vision shifted to a serene throne, glowing with soft light.
"The Second Spirit King, Serenva, Keeper of Harmony," Mahito said. "She calms conflicts, her aura binding gods and spirits to peace. Her power once stilled your skeletons mid-battle, forcing restraint."
Julius recalled a fight where his army froze, a soothing force halting their blades. "Serenva," he muttered. "She's why I couldn't strike."
"Yes," Mahito replied. "Her peace is a double-edged sword."
The third throne erupted in flames, a warrior's silhouette looming. "Kravox, Lord of War, the Third Spirit King," Mahito intoned. "He fuels battles, his rage empowering spirits and hunters. His spear ignites wars, but his aggression blinds him."
Julius remembered a spirit-driven enemy, its blows earth-shattering, likely Kravox's doing. "He's a brute," Julius said.
Mahito's flames flickered. "A necessary one."
The fourth throne glowed with wisdom's clarity. "Lumira, Sage of Wisdom, the Fourth Spirit King," Mahito continued. "She grants foresight, guiding battles through knowledge. Her traps nearly outwitted you once."
Julius recalled a spirit's uncanny predictions, countered only by his Spiritual Domain. "Lumira's a strategist," he noted.
The fifth throne swirled with shadows. "Zykros, Herald of Chaos, the Fifth Spirit King," Mahito said, his voice tense. "He disrupts order, his power unpredictable. The Mindless White God's chaos echoed his will."
Julius shivered, sensing Zykros's influence in that battle's madness. "Chaos is trouble," he said.
"Always," Mahito agreed.
The sixth throne bloomed with life. "Vitalia, Mother of Life, the Sixth Spirit King," Mahito said. "She nurtures spirits, granting regeneration. Her vitality overwhelmed you once, regrowing foes."
Julius thought of a spirit that regrew endlessly, sealed only by his magic. "Vitalia's relentless," he said.
The seventh throne was skeletal, eerie like his army. "Morteth, Reaper of Death, the Seventh Spirit King," Mahito intoned. "He reaps souls, recycling them into the hierarchy. Your skeletons carry his echo."
Julius felt a chill, his army mirroring Morteth's aura. "He's part of me," he said.
Mahito nodded. "A fraction of his will."
The final throne radiated starlight, its figure cloaked in cosmic authority. "Admin, the Cosmic Arbiter, the Eighth Spirit King," Mahito said, his voice low. "They enforce the hierarchy's rules, judging gods and hunters. Their wrath, as you faced with Bakunawa, shapes Ragnarok's cycle."
Julius clenched his fists, recalling Chapter 29's terror. "Admin's the top?"
"The pinnacle," Mahito confirmed. "Their judgment awaits you."
The vision faded, and Mahito's form wavered. "These names—Mahito, Serenva, Kravox, Lumira, Zykros, Vitalia, Morteth, Admin—are your map, Julius. A shadow stirs, tied to Admin's will. Prepare."
Julius stood, his resolve steel. "For Bathala, for the diwatas, I'll face them all."
Outside, a skeleton tripped, its skull rolling into a wall, sparking a laugh. Julius grinned, the names of the Kings burning in his mind. The neverending war called.
Ne-Zha smiled as he raided the base of the soul keepers / or the spirit hunter stronghold. He grabbed a massive katana and halved the receptionist, blood spewing all around as which alerted all of the spirit hunters