Dungeon – 40th Floor:
"P-proposal?" Elfaria repeated, taking a cautious step back as her grip tightened on her staff.
The pulsing dungeon went silent, as if it had realized its efforts were pointless. That silence didn't ease her nerves—it only deepened her anxiety. If The Mother herself had abandoned its hunt, then whatever stood before her was beyond even the dungeon's will.
The towering woman of water nodded indifferently.
"Yes. I have a deal for you, so hear me out."
Elfaria forced a brittle smile and glanced over her shoulder for an exit. "I'm not interested… so good day, Miss—"
"Undine," the woman cut her off, her voice calm but firm. "My name is Undine. And I insist, so why don't you take a seat?"
She gestured toward the Devander's corpse. Her words were polite, but her tone made it clear this wasn't a request.
Elfaria exhaled in defeat and sat back down.
Undine folded her arms, nodding in mild satisfaction.
"First of all, I assume you're curious about what I am, no?"
Elfaria nodded but kept silent.
"I'm what is called a spirit," Undine continued. "Something in between a familiar and a guardian, you could say."
"A spirit," Elfaria murmured, studying her closely.
Undine was a mass of mana, much like a guardian. But unlike those magical constructs, she held obvious sentience, agency—and something deeper. A soul. Life itself, like a familiar. Yet she wasn't flesh and blood.
Elfaria bit her lip before speaking. "...You're kind of like a summon?"
It was the closest comparison she could manage, recalling mentions of elves who had taken mage guardians to another level.
Now that I think about it, didn't Sarissa tell me that Lefiya has a Summon Burst or something?
Elfaria was half-asleep during the conversation, so she hadn't fully understood what it meant.
Undine tapped her cheek in thought, then shrugged. "Close enough. Let's go with that."
Elfaria narrowed her eyes. "Alright, Miss Spirit—"
"Undine. I said I have a name."
She sighed. "Alright, Miss Undine. What is it you want from me?"
Undine's expression turned solemn.
"Unlike guardians, summons, or familiars that remain completely autonomous, we spirits can fuse with a mage. In fact, we grow strongest when we possess a host."
She pointed directly at Elfaria.
"I want you to be my host."
Elfaria's eyes narrowed. "Why?"
Undine's next words made her stiffen in horror.
"The Fated Day is upon us."
"W-what?!" Elfaria screeched, trying to spring up, but her injuries pinned her down.
"You heard me," Undine said flatly. "The day when Paradise's fate will be decided is not far off."
Elfaria clutched her staff. "H-how can you say that?! How can you be sure?!"
Undine exhaled slowly. "I have a friend with a gift for divination. She foretold that calamity will strike within the next two years. Likely this one."
Elfaria shook her head violently. "T-that's not possible. W-we just reinforced the barrier, and those spies may think they're clever, but Lord Aaron—"
She cut herself off and snapped back. "Regardless. W-where's your proof?! You can't expect me to believe a claim like that!"
Undine only shrugged. "You've little choice but to err on the side of caution, though that's beyond the point. Like many, I have a bone to pick with the Heavenly Invaders, and I want your strength to help me kill as many of them as I can on the Fated Day."
Her face darkened as she clenched her fist, venom in her tone. "Preferably the Celestial Host himself."
A shiver ran down Elfaria's spine. She forced a trembling smile, sweat rolling down her cheeks.
"Are you capable of such a thing? Do you really have that kind of power?"
Another shrug. "Won't know until we try."
"Hah." Elfaria let out a tired breath, steadying her racing heart as her face hardened.
"A-and why me, specifically?"
Undine's reply was blunt. "I'm a water spirit. I need a water mage to bring out my full power. And who better than the former Albis Vina?"
Elfaria's brow twitched at the subtle jab. She chuckled cautiously.
"You seem to know a lot about me."
Undine smiled with a trace of mischief. "I've done my homework. So, what do you say?"
Elfaria didn't answer right away.
"Maybe you haven't heard, but there's a new Water Faction in town. The chief seems like the real deal—and she's pretty too. Maybe you should seek her out instead."
Undine twitched at that, though she kept her smile and shook her head.
"I'm not interested in chasing rumors. And it's not like I can just stroll into the tower whenever I please."
She could, but there was no need for Elfaria to know that.
"You'll do just fine. No need to complicate things. So, what do you say?"
She repeated herself, voice firmer this time.
Elfaria still didn't budge.
"It's too bad I'm not close enough to the Water Chief to summon her for you. But I know someone else who might do just fine. Why don't I introduce her—"
"Ceridwen is certainly impressive," Undine cut her off, her smile slipping. "But she isn't strong enough to achieve my wish. And she has little potential left to grow."
Elfaria froze. Her own smile fell away.
"Just how much do you know?"
Undine said nothing.
Elfaria clicked her tongue. "If you're after power, then Ellenor—"
"I'm not interested in any Multos!" Undine snapped, patience fraying. "I want a purist of water magic. That means you! So stop wasting time with excuses!"
Elfaria's temper flared. "W-why should I?! You appear out of nowhere, claim to know who I am, drop some grave prophecy, and then expect me to agree on the spot?! I don't even know you! What's in it for me?! What kind of deal is this?!"
Undine nearly tore at her own spiritual hair in frustration.
"Gaaah?! Are you stupid or something?!"
Elfaria used her staff to push herself upright. "Who're you calling stupid—"
"You!" Undine jabbed a finger at her, shrinking down to Elfaria's height to stare her in the eyes.
Elfaria winced but refused to step back as Undine spat the words at her.
"I thought I was being obvious. Help me, and you gain my power. Power to reclaim your throne and fulfill that promise with your lover boy."
Elfaria went blank. "You can help me beat Yuno…"
Undine paused, clearing her throat with a hint of awkwardness. "M-maybe not him. But any other Vander, yes. That I can promise."
Elfaria's eyes narrowed. "You know too much. Even about my promise with Will. I'm sorry, Miss Undine, but the more you talk the more alarmed I am by your presence."
Whatever gratitude she had felt for being saved was already beginning to fade.
Undine stiffened, a flicker of anxiety passing over her before she snapped her fingers.
"T-then let me show you my sincerity."
"Huh—"
Vroom.
Before Elfaria could react, water pooled around her, rising into a spherical cocoon.
She braced for pain, for suffocation—but instead, a cool calm washed over her.
Plop.
The cocoon burst apart into droplets, leaving her standing in shock.
Her wounds were gone. Cuts, scratches, and bruises erased. Her skin restored to its flawless state.
Her dress had been patched by fine threads of water. Her hair was clean, gleaming.
Most of all, her mana reserves surged back—not full, but nearly three-quarters.
Elfaria's jaw dropped. "H-healing magic?"
For a moment she wondered if Undine truly was an elf summon.
Undine waved a hand as if it were nothing. "A minor thing. This power can be yours if you make a contract with me. Enticing, isn't it?"
Elfaria exhaled in exasperation. "It's certainly impressive. But if I ever reclaim my throne, I want to do it with my own strength."
Her eyes met Undine's. "I'm thankful, but that's all. There's no meaning, no sense of accomplishment, in taking your hand."
Undine flicked her hair, scoffing lightly as she tried to hold her composure. "This proves I'm offering a deal, not forcing one. Don't rush to say no. Think about it."
Elfaria raised a brow, unimpressed. She turned for the exit.
"My mind is already made up. Sorry—"
"Wait!"
Undine grabbed her shoulder, voice tightening as she cleared her throat.
"I-I still have something to show you."
Elfaria blinked. "Huh?"
Undine didn't answer. She simply raised one finger skyward.
Elfaria frowned, confused—until her eyes began to widen.
The dungeon air stirred.
Mana itself came alive, drawn into Undine's grasp.
The energy spiraled upward, gathering at her fingertips. Slowly, a towering sphere of water began to form above them.
"Mana Zone?! You can use that?!"
A trace of eagerness—of desire—mixed in with Elfaria's shock.
Undine cleared her throat. "A-a bit. I'm not human. I have near infinite mana and am essentially part of nature itself, so I've never needed to manipulate it for my own benefit, but…"
"But?"
"But my previous hosts mastered it—and another technique. One that could benefit you greatly. I've watched long enough to understand how they work."
Elfaria slowly turned back toward her. "I'm listening."
Undine sighed. "Instead of making you my host right away, why don't we start with a teacher–disciple contract? I'll teach you the two techniques. If you see results or merit in our lessons, we can renegotiate later and discuss you becoming my host."
"..."
Elfaria stayed silent, studying Undine's face for any sign of deceit.
Then, just as she parted her lips—
"Alright—"
Disaster struck.
"Why, look at what we have here?!"
Broom!
Rumble!
The chamber shook as a blazing comet erupted from below, tearing into the room in a streak of crimson.
The towering water sphere evaporated into steam. Undine lost her grip on the ambient mana in an instant.
Both women stiffened, bracing as the smoke cleared.
A predator stepped out.
Tall. Muscular. A lion given human form, fangs jutting past her lips where the trace of dungeon meat lingered.
Her vermillion hair was cropped short, her body packed with muscle as she cracked her knuckles and grinned.
"I like me some strong women! Let's play!"
Vroom!
Flames roared to life, encircling them in a blazing ring.
Elfaria blinked, realization creeping over her.
Oh. Mr. Mystery is a Miss.
Undine pinched her brow, muttering under her breath as her frustrations boiled over.
"Damn Mereoleona."
She'd seen the signs before but had prayed—to whatever god still lingered above—that she was wrong.
Or at least hoped it wouldn't matter. That they wouldn't run into her.
But like Elfaria, little in Undine's life ever went her way.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Mereoleona Vermillion was having the time of her life.
After being chained to boring old Samios for six long years—a miracle in itself, considering someone like her could barely stay put in one place for an hour—she finally cut loose.
Just like Rigarden, Samios had its own entrance to the dungeon. With zero hesitation, she jumped straight into the abyss.
Dungeons—in her old world—whether man-made or natural mana zones, had always amused her.
Traps, beasts, challenges, barriers, treasures—they made for a decent way to kill time.
But that was all they were. For Mereoleona, unless she held back, there was no thrill.
This dungeon, however, was alive. Immortal.
Clear a level? Defeat a room? No problem. The dungeon would simply reset, filling itself with new prey by the time she came back.
She could cut loose just fine.
It was a battle junkie's paradise.
And that was why Yuno had little chance of finding her.
He assumed she'd rush straight for the fiftieth floor, eager to face whatever lurked there.
And so he himself had headed straight down to the deeper stratums.
Never could he imagine she lingered, circling the upper levels, clearing a few floors, then backtracking to do it again.
She wasn't in a hurry to clear her newfound playground. She wanted to savor the hunt.
By the time she finally descended, Yuno's group was long gone.
So she started over, playing between floors thirty-five and forty-five. When boredom set in and she prepared to tackle the final five, a rumble from above caught her ear.
Finishing her meal in haste, she reascended, tearing through the previous five levels like it was nothing.
And then she found her.
A water mage—her worst matchup—sitting on the corpse of a Devander.
Not just any Devander, but a larger, stronger one than the beast she had fought countless times before.
Mereoleona hadn't known the Devander could evolve.
She hadn't known the dungeon could play like that.
Otherwise, she would have gladly let it conquer the entire labyrinth—just to face it in a glorious death match.
In fact she would even aid it in doing so, allowing it to evolve to the max.
But it was dead now.
Which meant the mage who killed it—Elfaria—would have to take responsibility.
And not just Elfaria.
Mereoleona's gaze slid to Undine. Her lips curved as she licked them, making the spirit flinch.
She had long hungered for an excuse to fight the Water Spirit, even the Sea God. But a soft spot for Noelle, and Asta constantly in her way, denied her that chance.
Now, though, one of her most craved prey stood before her.
Here, in her hunting ground. Alone.
And this time, she wouldn't take no for an answer.
She cracked her knuckles, grinning wide, ecstasy burning in her eyes like wildfire.
"Who's first? Screw it—both of you, at once!"
Undine flinched back, dragging her mana tight around herself. Elfaria mirrored her, staff raised, her gaze flicking nervously to the spirit.
"You… know this scary lady?"
The words slipped out, because the magic rolling off Mereoleona wasn't just overwhelming—it was suffocating. Undine, who only moments ago seemed untouchable, suddenly looked small. This pressure was on par with Yuno, maybe worse.
Undine gave a stiff nod.
Elfaria screeched. "T-then calm your friend down!"
"Friend?" Undine hissed, her composure cracking. "That's an overstatement!"
Elfaria blinked. "Huh?"
"You heard me! She's a savage. She does what she wants, when she wants—and right now, she wants to fight! No one can stop her!"
Not unless your name was Noelle. Or Nigel. Or maybe… Leopold.
Undine bit her tongue, not daring to say it out loud as she backpedaled—until the wall of fire stopped her cold.
Elfaria followed, retreating step for step. Something about this crazy woman tugged at her memory, feeling a tad familiar, but there was no time to puzzle it out.
She shook her head sharply.
"So she's like Zeo…"
That was all she needed to know. Words wouldn't reach this kind of lunatic. Negotiation was worthless.
Her throat went dry as she forced her trembling legs forward.
It had been a long time since she felt this kind of fear.
Not even the Heavenly Invader from that incident rattled her like this. That fear came from despair—the terror of never seeing Will again.
Of never being able to make him whole again.
This fear was different—raw and primal. The dread of being hunted.
"M-mind telling me how strong she is?"
Undine's voice dropped, heavy with resignation. "In terms you'll understand… even with my power, I can't promise you victory."
Elfaria's grip loosened, staff nearly slipping from her hands.
"Oh, joy."
And then Mereoleona lunged, fire howling around her fist, laughter ripping from her throat like a predator that had finally cornered its prey.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Mercedes Caulis – Sixth Stratum:
South of the stratum, in the Fantafirmary—the so-called hospital of the tower—Will groggily opened his eyes. A sharp headache throbbed as he reached for his forehead.
"Augh."
"Will! You're awake!"
He turned his head to the left. Sitting on a bench by his bedside, with Kiki curled in her lap and a bandage on her cheek much like his own, was Lihanna.
"Thank goodness!"
"Mreow!"
She smiled softly and handed him his glasses.
"T-thank you…" He took them from the Carbuncle with a confused murmur, sliding them on as he slowly sat at the edge of the mattress.
"Where are we?"
"The Fantafirmary," Lihanna replied simply.
Though he had never been here before, Will needed no further explanation. The 401st Cohort's self-orientation had covered it.
He glanced past her and spotted his sword, sheathed and resting against a stand.
Vroom.
With a touch of his space ring, the blade vanished into its pocket dimension in a flicker of dark blue light.
Lihanna didn't bat an eye, but her concern deepened.
"Can you recall anything that happened?"
Will hesitated. He wanted to say no—but the truth was he remembered it all too well.
The sensation of his body being seized by an otherworldly power was not something he could forget.
"..." His fists clenched as his thoughts spiraled.
Does that Woman in Black have something to do with Wis…? Because that power felt nothing like Courage…
"Will?" Lihanna's voice cut through, pulling him back.
"S-sorry, Lihanna." He forced an apologetic smile. "I remember everything."
She bit her lip. "C-can I ask what that was… back there?"
Will went still. How could he answer what he didn't even understand himself?
He sighed bitterly.
I need to find Mr. Finn.
Just as he was about to respond, Will's ki flared and he snapped his head up.
Fwish!
The curtains drew back to reveal a familiar petite witch, her eyes shadowed by strands of blond hair.
Will and Lihanna shot to their feet as Kiki scrambled up onto his head.
"M-Miss Serah! How is Emma doing?!"
Serah didn't answer. She simply raised a hand and gestured behind her.
They followed, only to stop cold in the next partition.
Emma lay unconscious on a bed, her frame frail in a loose hospital gown. Her skin was pallid, the usual green laced through her hair faded toward white.
Vines coiled across her body, flowers grotesquely blooming from her cheeks and limbs. At her head and beneath her bed glowed intricate magic circles, runes flickering with faint light.
Sitting watch, arms crossed, was a young man they both recognized. His eyes opened briefly—one sharp, dispassionate glance—before closing again.
I barely sensed this guy… what's up with that? Will's stomach twisted.
Clairie Serah cleared her throat.
"Her injuries are bad, but her Floralphagia is worse." She exhaled heavily, her tone caught between clinical and regretful. "The prolonged exposure to Belledors is wreaking havoc on her body. Even with elven curative spells, it will take time to mend."
She nodded at the half-elf.
"But the good news is she's alive. The elves gave her first aid as well as emergency treatment, and Sylor here will remain at her side until further notice."
Will and Lihanna clenched fists and teeth in tandem. Relief never came. Only the sting of failure—Shade had slipped away.
Creiwy's voice broke the silence, her attempt at consolation as steady as it was unwanted.
"Thanks to you two, we were even able to save Brann and Niall from the puppet spell. They won't move freely for some time, but they will recover."
Her expression softened.
"Mimily and the other two boys have already returned to the Ice Faction without major injury."
"..."
Will and Lihanna's mood only soured further.
Only then both of their gazes stiffened, flicking between Creirwy and Sylor.
"W-wait, Madam Creirwy, he's—"
"Oh, you can trust Sylor." She smiled casually, leaving them frozen in place.
"B-but your orders were to be discreet—"
"No buts. He already knows everything. No point in being annoying and talking around him."
Creirwy then tilted her head, grinning mischievously at the half-elf. "Ain't that right, Sy?"
Sylor didn't bother opening his eyes, nodding silently from his seat.
Will was speechless, forcing a wry smile. "How can you be so sure?"
Creirwy didn't answer. Instead, she winked from behind her curtain of hair.
"Big Sis has her ways. That said, just because it's safe to speak around Sylor doesn't mean the same for the others. But you smart kiddies already know that, right?"
Will and Lihanna exchanged dry glances. Lihanna exhaled, tired, and stepped forward with a solemn glare.
"Madam Creirwy, that mage—Shade, as she called herself—used an esoteric branch of puppet magic called Berzeme Sique. Have you heard of it?"
Creirwy brought a thoughtful hand to her chin.
"For reasons I can't disclose, I was already looking into puppetry before this incident. I came across the name in my investigation. The Berzemes were a clan who specialized in the art and once attempted to take control of the Western City of Terralis."
Vroom.
Her hands glowed as a white flower floated between her palms.
"Obviously they failed, and as I'm sure you're thinking, they were executed for plunging the city into chaos. However, their use of Belledors as a reagent for their magic is news to me."
The flower slowly vanished.
"Perhaps it's a unique aspect of this Shade. But if what she told you was true, this tower is probably crawling with more puppets."
The duo stiffened under her gaze.
"Be on guard at all times, whether you smell Belledors or not. There's no telling who the enemy is or where they might strike."
She snapped her fingers. "That reminds me—I was on the fence before, but I no longer have reason to hesitate. Since I know this is the Berzemes."
Lihanna blinked. "What're you talking about, Madam Creirwy?"
The witch snickered. "Who better than those who've faced their terror firsthand to gather information on the Berzemes? I'll be summoning a big shot from Terralis."
She looked at the two with a mischievous smile. "For obvious reasons, I'll have you greet our guests once they arrive."
She fixed her gaze on Will. "Especially you."
Will froze, confused. "Huh?"
Creirwy grinned, offering no explanation.
Shortly after the Second Bloom Creirwy had a pang of realization.
She had thought the Silva name sounded vaguely familiar, and now it clicked.
With Ed's and Workner's report on the All—student Praxis—and if this boy really is her ward, then who better than him?
It was time to test that theory.
While Creirwy stared at him oddly, Will suddenly stiffened, his pupils dilating once more.
"Even more puppets…" he murmured, his voice tight and anxious, drawing everyone's attention before he turned.
"I need to go—"
"Albis Vina is fine."
Will froze mid-step.
Lihanna and Creirwy followed his gaze to Sylor, who was finally looking at them.
"I mean Lady Elfaria is fine. No need to see her."
Will turned, sensing no deceit in his ki, but the man's calmness only heightened his panic.
"H-how did you know that I… no, never mind. How do you know Elfie's fine?!"
Sylor replied with a single, calm word.
"Classified."
Will nearly snapped. "BUT—"
Sylor cut him off bluntly, yet with a strange undertone of care. "She's not a puppet. If she was, the sky would've already fallen."
Will froze again. Sylor continued with characteristic indifference that somehow felt protective.
"But let's say she was, and Gohtia didn't use her to tear down the great barrier immediately for some reason. That changes nothing. Seeking her out would only provoke chaos and destruction—destruction that would likely harm her in a way that can't be undone."
The half-elf's gaze was steady. "So stay away. For your sanity and her safety."
Will remained motionless, while Lihanna and Kiki struggled for words.
Creirwy folded her arms, studying Sylor for a moment before turning back to Will.
"He's right. I don't know his source, but I can assure you, Will, Elfaria is fine. She's somewhere… safe."
Oh, how wrong Creirwy Serah was. Though the danger Elfaria currently faced was of a type neither of them could anticipate.
A danger that would make Will shiver, want to run, yet somehow exhale in fragile relief.
"Somewhere… safe?" Will raised a brow. "Where is she?"
He was met with only silence.
Clenching his jaw, he exhaled, frustration tight in his chest.
"F-fine, I—I won't see her…" he stuttered, despite the anxiety clawing at him.
He wasn't sure he believed his own words. All he could do was pray something would distract him from his worries.
Sylor nodded slightly, a faint mark of approval.
Trying to compose himself, Will parted his lips again.
"T-the mage used dark magic. Is it possible the traitor is from the Dark Faction?"
Creirwy shrugged.
"No one in the Tenebrias Noctane matches Shade's description. Still, it's too early to rule them out."
Especially with Maius' constant 'reminders', she paused in slight annoyance before continuing on.
"The traitor could be anyone, and it's not just her—we have to worry about her puppets too. She's almost surely infiltrated every faction."
Will's eyes narrowed as something in Creirwy's tone tugged at his mind. Nevertheless, he remained silent.
The arbiter sighed.
"She could be hiding or mingling amongst any of them. Perhaps she even has a secret base like mine… perhaps even—"
Creirwy paused, shook her head, and raised her hands.
"Well, anyway… let's talk about something else."
For a moment, Will and Lihanna thought she was going to playfully ruffle their hair.
Boink!
Instead, she slammed their foreheads together.
"Oww!"
"Augh!"
"I told you to spy, not have brawls out in the open! You saved Emma, but still!"
The Thunder Faction recruits whimpered.
"We're sorry…"
Fwish!
Thump!
Before Creirwy could respond, curtains were pulled back again as footsteps stormed into the room.
"Creirwy! Sylor!" Arvin Olus entered, his frown solemn, Monica Orphan matching his expression at his side.
"Is it true our dear comrade Emma was attacked?!"
"Tell me, is she all right?!"
Will stiffened. His Ki flared, and his eyes turned red as they stepped forward.
His finger nearly brushed his ring, but suddenly a voice echoed in his head.
[Serfort! Don't move.]
Will froze as Arvin and Monica casually stepped past him, hovering over Emma.
The voice came again, speaking into Lihanna's mind as well.
[Not a word from either of you, understand?]
Is Miss Serah using telepathy to speak to us? Maybe then I can… talk back even without magic.
Will tried to reach for the mental link.
[But—]
[I know what you're trying to say.]
He struggled to keep his shock from showing.
[H-how—]
[Not now, Serfort. It isn't time to take action yet.]
Creirwy cut him off before communing with both of them.
[The tower has its own considerations. The wretch will likely send puppets to trail you or even make an attempt on your lives. Don't let down your guard for anyone. Always treat them as foes before friends first. That goes for me as well going forward.]
"Ah, Arvin. Monica. I've been waiting for you. I'll explain everything. Come, this way."
Creirwy greeted the Wind Faction duo while continuing to speak to Will and Lihanna telepathically.
[Try to keep everything we discussed amongst ourselves. Share as little as possible with your classmates.]
The three of them stood at Emma's bedside while Arvin and Monica nodded at Sylor from across the bed.
"I'm so sorry we couldn't protect her. Apparently there was an attack by an adversarial mage. Would you like to hear her diagnosis?"
They didn't. Instead, they asked something else.
"Was it the so-called traitor?"
"Where was the Upper Institute during all of this?!"
"Well… it's like this…" Creirwy started, attempting to sidestep the explanation.
[That all being said, remaining in Zeo, Guil, or Anna's presence should keep you safe for the time being. Try to stay close to any of them at all times, preferably all at once.]
"..."
Will and Lihanna went silent for a moment, before the latter whispered to her partner.
"Will… this is quite serious…"
Will clenched his jaw, staying quiet in contemplation.
The tower is the very image of order in our world. A beacon of hope. A symbol to trust, celebrate, and aspire to be a part of, shared by every Rhizanth in Paradise.
Even dwarves and elves have respect for it.
But now the Upper Institute, the other factions, and the highest of mages could be the enemy…
If any of this gets out it would be catastrophic.
The last thing a world on the brink of destruction needs is panic from the masses.
Distrust and division will not just topple the tower but endanger the barrier itself.
Will clenched his fist.
This issue can't be dealt with simply with a swipe of the sword or wave of a wand. It has to be handled clinically and preferably stealthily, with none the wiser.
He turned, stepping past his friend as Lihanna slowly followed him to the doorway.
I hope Gohtia will keep things quiet for a little longer. Long enough for us to do a cleansing—.
"Great Mage Yuno is quite angry."
Sylor's sudden voice froze them by the doorway.
Not just him—Monica, Arvin, and Creirwy all turned as well.
It was unclear who the half-elf was speaking to as he stared up at the ceiling, only to part his lips again.
"Furious doesn't even begin to cut it."
All five stiffened while Will and Lihanna hurried outside.
Lihanna whispered again.
"What was that?"
Will shrugged. "A warning."
Lihanna shook her head. "Not Mr. Sylor, I'm talking about Madam Creirwy. Why'd she tell you to freeze?"
The magical swordsman replied softly as they continued down the hall.
"Paramout Kreutz was right, somewhat. It appears we've looked down on the tower's competence, and perhaps by extension our enemies."
"???" Lihanna blanked.
Will sighed. "No need to search for the puppeteer. It seems they've already got that side handled."
"Huh? W-wait a moment, what're you talking about…"
Lihanna trailed off—ceasing her questioning—as Will shook his head.
"That being said, we can't assume there's only one traitor, even if said traitor has an army of puppets."
Lihanna bit her lip.
"So what are we going to do? We can't trust anyone in the tower—"
"Yes we can." Will cut her off with a soft smile. "Don't forget, Lihanna, we still have our friends."
"But Madam Creirwy said—"
"With how well we know them, we'd be able to tell if they were a puppet right away." He chuckled. "It's not good to involve our entire cohort like we tried before, so let's just stick to our closest allies."
Lihanna's worries dissipated as her expression softened, feeling moved. "Will~"
Bwm!
Both of them twitched, only to turn around and see a familiar head of blonde hair towering over them.
"Having fun? Owenzaus? Serfort?" He asked with a dark smile.
"A-Adjutant Guilford! What're you doing here?!"
"How'd you get here?! You appeared from out of nowhere!"
Guilford didn't bother explaining much.
"I got a message from Creirwy and so had to take some time out of my very busy day to pick up a couple of slackers in the Fantafirmary!"
He crossed his arms over his armour, lightning crackling around him in irritation.
Bzzt.
"I hope you're ready, you shameless slobs. 'Cause you've got a storm of makeup drills headed your way!"
"Aaaaghhh!"
The duo groaned.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
First Stratum — Water Faction Manor:
"What's going on here?" Asta asked, cradling Nigel in one arm as he stepped into the common room.
Seated at a round table were Noelle and Argenta, surrounded by piles of books and papers, many of them crumpled. The latter whimpered miserably while Noelle scoffed.
"Her punishment for nearly wasting six years of Nacht's efforts."
Argenta let out an aggrieved cry, feeling wronged. "I-I didn't know! This isn't fair!"
Noelle ignored her as her husband and baby stepped forward with blank looks. "Her punishment is paperwork?"
Noelle snorted. "This isn't paperwork."
Asta scratched his cheek with his free hand. "Then what is it?"
Noelle sighed in mild frustration and pointed at the mess of papers. "Apparently all factions need to have some inheritance. Meaning supreme spells, so here we are trying to cook some up. Emphasis on trying."
Honestly, Noelle didn't mind much. It was about time she came up with one of her own.
Asta's confusion only deepened as he glanced at Argenta. "Is that really something you need to whine about?"
Argenta snapped her head toward him, jabbing her fingers at the textbooks. "You think this is easy?! I have to learn so many fancy words… Why do these Rhizanth speak so weirdly?!"
She then pointed at some diagrams depicting mythical beasts. "Moreover, I have to make a spell that forms something strange like this! What even is this?!"
Asta squinted. What is that? Some man-deer on drugs?
Bam!
Argenta slammed the desk in frustration, nearly jolting Nigel. "I don't want to do this! Why can't I just summon Yamato Orochi—or better yet Kyūbi?!"
Noelle's annoyance sharpened. "How many times do I have to tell you?! This is about inheritance! Meaning these spells will be passed on or at least showcased! Forming some magical construct of a mythological creature this world has never seen is a big red flag!"
For once, Argenta didn't stand down, not the least bit frightened by Noelle's tone.
Instead she was angry and frustrated.
"Well, why do I always have to make the sacrifices, huh?!"
Noelle paused, while Asta covered Nigel's ears.
And then Argenta went off, tears streaming as she shot up from her chair, a hand over her chest, screaming her heart out.
"You Clovers had it so easy! Your language was similar to the Rhizanth in some cases while Hinos like me got nothing!"
She clenched her fist.
"Even your culture is largely the same!"
"On the other hand, I can't dress the way I used to!"
"I've rarely been allowed to cook and eat the foods of my homeland!"
Though this tower has soba for some strange reason.
"I even had to change my name!"
"It's not fair!"
"To begin with, why did most of us Ryuzen have to come to this damn tower?"
"It should've been you Clovers!"
Huff.
Argenta panted softly before she sat back down.
Noelle and Asta exchanged a glance before Noelle turned to Argenta, her expression softening.
"Kezōkaku-san, among the four of you… five if you count Fumito, only you took issue."
"YOU THINK THEY DON'T CARE?!" Argenta's fury returned in full. "Just because they're less expressive, you think they're not sad about having to go by a different name?!"
Noelle clenched her jaw.
"Never—not for a moment—have we thought that! But don't act like only you have suffered, or that none of us have lost anything!"
"I never said that!" Argenta snapped.
"Well, it sure sounds like it!" Noelle hissed as her eyes reddened.
"We've all had to make sacrifices! Asserting ourselves and establishing footholds in Samios, Terralis, Alfswood, and Garzaronso was something only us Clovers, as you like to put it, could do."
"And don't act like we're not active in Rigarden and the Tower as well."
She then jabbed a finger at Argenta.
"For the sake of the plan, we needed at least one person in every faction."
"Fana took care of the Fairy Faction. Patri took care of Light."
"Leopold, Fire. Wind and Dark ended up being a bit special."
"Daizaemon handled Earth. Komari, Thunder. Fumito joined the Colorless."
She took a deep breath as her expression hardened. "All that was left was the Ice Faction."
"And you, being the closest we have to a proper ice mage, were responsible for that. Yet instead of joining, you whined and avoided your duties."
"None of us bothered you. Now, after six years of lazing around, we're finally making you do something—so don't start complaining."
"Pull your weight."
Argenta looked like she wanted to argue, her pupils shaking.
Noelle shot her down before she could.
"I even give you a choice."
"Do this, or climb the tower and get the Ascendant privileges."
"With your strength, you could be done within a day if you really tried. But you chose this—so do it."
"Augh…" Argenta bit her lips before lowering her head in depression. "Sorry!"
That was all she could say.
Kezōkaku Ginnojōmorifuyu had been empty ever since Ryuya Ryudo passed away. She lost her purpose in life as her lord lost his.
The only reason she hadn't ended it with Seppuku was partly for the sake of the few friends she had left, but also in anticipation of the Fated Day.
She lived for that single moment—when she could draw her sword, charge into battle, and slay as many Heavenly Invaders as possible.
To avenge her master and homeland, or die trying.
Her most favored end was to fall in battle, for she saw no future beyond vengeance.
She was empty. Her days passed sleeping, drinking, eating, sharpening her sword when no one was around—all for one purpose.
She had no ambition or will to climb the tower. She feared that if she became someone worth mentioning, she would lose her courage to charge into battle with no regrets or ties to this world.
Argenta rested her head face-first against the table.
Asta and Noelle sighed, feeling the shift in Ki.
Asta uncovered Nigel's ears and tried to lighten the mood with a joke, chuckling softly. "I never understood the purpose of chants to begin with. How do some fancy words even cast a spell? Wouldn't it be easier to just say 'fire wall' instead of chanting away and getting skewered before you finish?"
Noelle groaned, not in the mood. "How many times do we have to go over this? The rules of this world are different. Words here have soul. They're magic in themselves. And it helps to visualize."
Asta shrugged. "Can't you just visualize in your head instead of screaming at the top of your lungs? Seems unnecessary. Back home at most we'd say a word or three."
"Tsk." Noelle clicked her tongue, her ire budding. "That's because we had grimoires and scrolls to anchor our spells to our souls. Not that you'd understand!"
Fwip!
She shooed him away with her hand. "If there's nothing else, stop bothering us! Get lost."
"Hah hah…" Asta chuckled weakly.
Nigel, on the other hand…
Awoo…
The baby looked at his mother with round beady eyes, on the verge of tears.
Noelle's heart cracked as she lifted her hands in placation. "S-sweetie, I didn't mean you. Just your dummy father!"
Awooo~!
The hurt only deepened.
Noelle broke into a cold sweat, shaking her head. "J-just joking! Daddy can stay too. Mommy loves Daddy!"
Nigel looked unconvinced.
Asta snickered, and even Argenta cracked a wry smile as Noelle's cheeks heated.
Defeated, the young mother clapped her hands together.
Vroom.
A chibi-sized Leviathan appeared in her palm, very confused.
"Are… we… destroying… something—"
It started sweating as badly as its master when Noelle presented him to her baby like a peace offering.
Nigel blinked, then giggled as he gripped the Sea God by its serpentine neck and waved it around like a toy.
"Bah-un!"
Noelle sighed in relief and returned her gaze to the texts in front of her.
Her fingers flipped page after page, searching for some creature or source of inspiration that would catch her eye—until she stopped.
She blinked, then nodded to herself. This… can work.
Watching her silently, Argenta exhaled and picked up her pen again.
I'm going to need a dictionary… and a thesaurus.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Dungeon – 40th Floor:
Augh!
Gah!
Both Undine and Elfaria were sent flying back by a cacophony of flames.
Liquid limbs sprouted from the Water Spirit, digging into the writhing floor to skid her to a stop, while Elfaria's levitation magic froze her midair.
Undine looked tired but otherwise unharmed.
Elfaria, on the other hand, was ravaged.
Her icy hair was singed at the edges, burn marks scored her skin, and her diamond-dust robe frayed into tatters.
Mereoleona cracked her neck in boredom. "Come on, you can do better than that, right?"
Elfaria twitched, panting in cold sweat. Forget her mediocre Mana Zone—she couldn't even amp her spells with Natural Confluence. Mereoleona had wrestled away all ambient magic in the dungeon, leaving her reliant only on her own reserves.
Reserves that were clearly outmatched.
It was rare for Elfaria to meet someone with more raw magical energy than her, but ever since the Second Bloom it was becoming far too common a pattern.
One she'd much rather do without.
She clenched her staff tighter, frustration mounting. Even her magic power felt sealed under Mereoleona's presence, just like Zeo's had under Yuno.
Elfaria ground her jaw. She didn't need this. She had already spent more time in the dungeon than planned, and if the prophecy Undine had whispered to her wasn't a lie, she needed to rush back to the tower and begin her own investigations.
Her head snapped to the Water Spirit in ire.
Undine's brow twitched. "Why're you looking at me like that?! This isn't my fault."
Elfaria's face darkened.
"Oi, Miss 'I can't guarantee you victory'—the way you said it, it at least sounded like you could put up a fight! Forget the Celestial Host, you can't even stand up to this psycho!"
Mereoleona paused, amused, as Undine spat back. "Excuse me?! How stupid are you? I meant if we fight together! Did you forget I need a host to bring out my full strength?!"
Elfaria gritted her teeth before forcing a calm breath. She sized up Undine for a moment.
"This contract thing… how can I trust it's not a trap?"
Undine blinked in surprise before settling down. "Honestly… you can't. At the end of the day, we just met. I have no way to prove I'm trustworthy."
This time it was Elfaria's turn to look surprised, though her expression soon hardened. She whispered, "If we work together… can we get through this?"
Undine crossed her arms. "We should be able to escape, at least."
Elfaria sighed in defeat. "Alright… what do I have to do?"
"..."
Undine studied her, then her body began to glow.
Vroom.
"Just don't resist."
The Water Spirit morphed into a stream that poured into the back of Elfaria's right hand.
BOOM!
The former Vander's mana spiked astronomically.
Hunger and anticipation deepened on Mereoleona's face as she licked her lips, saliva slipping from her maw.
"Finally… something worth more than a stretch."
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Mercedes Caulis – Second Stratum:
The artificial moon hung bright over the tower as another day drew to its quiet end.
Inside the Ice Faction manor's head office, Sarissa Alfeld studied her chief in budding confusion.
Elfaria's clone sat at her desk, pen poised above a parchment, but her hand hadn't moved for several long minutes. Her gaze was distant, fixed on nothing, as if her thoughts had been stolen away.
Sarissa stepped forward with an awkward cough, hugging a fresh stack of paperwork against her chest. "Lady Elfaria, is something the matter? Has something happened in the dungeon?"
She tried to sound calm, but worry still leaked into her voice.
It only deepened when Elfaria let out a strange murmur. "Welp… that was a giant lie."
Sarissa blinked. "Lady Elfaria?"
At last, the clone seemed to return to the present. She gave her aide an awkward smile and raised her hands in placation. "Sarissa… don't worry."
"Elfaria-sama, I don't under—"
"Don't panic either. Everything's okay. Trust me." Elfaria cut her off, her grin turning more sheepish, as though she herself doubted the words.
Crack.
The Ars Weiss clone splintered like glass, its body shattering into a drifting mist of ice.
Sarissa froze in place, her expression empty.
Thump.
The paperwork slipped from her arms, scattering across the icy floor. Sweat trickled down her cheek as the silence of the office swallowed her whole.
"E-Elfaria?"
Her voice trembled against the empty air, knowing full well there would be no answer.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Mercedes Caulis – Fiftieth Stratum:
At the peak of the tower, Aaron Masterias Oldking sat upon his throne, overlooking the vast sprawl of Regarden.
Patri stood at his side, less a servant than a shadow—faithful, sharp, and far too bold.
"Old man, if it's your wish to destroy the tower, you don't have to look elsewhere. I can do it for you."
Aaron turned his gaze, heavy and silent, toward his adjutant.
The eyepatched elf met it with a mocking smile, daring him. "I also have many friends who'd be more than happy to chip in. We won't even charge you demolition costs."
The King of the magical world finally spoke, his voice like the weight of stone. "Patri…"
"Yes?"
"Shut your mouth."
The elf chortled, utterly unintimidated. "Alright."
And in that vast, silent throne room, beneath a false sky and the crushing weight of fifty strata, master and aide lingered in silence.
It was time to move onto phase three.