Dark Cloths.
Alistair could guess what this dark power was.
After all, on Death Queen Island, the source of dark power was obvious with a bit of thought.
Alistair and Persephone landed on Death Queen Island.
Hot.
Blazingly hot.
If an ordinary person set foot here, they'd be vaporized instantly by the terrifying heat, reduced to atoms.
Naturally, this didn't affect the two of them.
"So this is Death Queen Island…" Persephone said, scanning their surroundings thoughtfully.
The island bore the scars of flowing lava, with the central volcano occasionally erupting with terrifying molten rock.
Simply put, anyone who could survive here was no ordinary human.
Moreover, upon landing, the first sight was a collection of Dark Cloths—or rather, broken Dark Cloths.
"Dark Cloths," Persephone said softly, observing. "No one knows their true origin, not even my mother."
"But it's likely they're imitations."
"After all, the Mu Continent is gone, leaving only a few fragments."
Persephone speculated on their origin.
Alistair waved a hand, his divine power sweeping across.
Instantly, all the Dark Cloths on Death Queen Island began to stir, their fragments rapidly assembling before him.
In moments, thousands—seven or eight thousand—broken Cloths had gathered.
"All Bronze Cloths," Alistair noted, examining the fragments.
He didn't repair them, merely displaying them. They were covered in cracks, many missing pieces, more akin to scrap than anything functional.
"Bronze Cloths," Persephone said, scanning them. "For every true Bronze Cloth, there are one to two hundred Dark Bronze Cloths."
"But unlike true Cloths, these are almost all defective."
"They lack the spirit of a constellation."
"In essence, they're useless."
Persephone shook her head but added, "If needed, I could create countless such Dark Cloths with a wave of my hand."
"Heh," Alistair chuckled. "Nothing useful at all?"
"Well," Persephone mused, "Stardust Sand and Star Cores."
"Those are likely the only valuable things. In the Age of Myth, only the Mu Continent produced such divine materials."
"They're perfect for forging Cloths."
"In fact, aside from Underworld Warriors, the Cloths of warriors under various gods contain Stardust Sand and Star Cores."
"But they're not that useful. My mother has collected plenty. With enough Stardust Sand and Star Cores, you could forge hundreds of thousands of Cloths."
"Still, without a core, Cloths are meaningless."
Her words made Alistair ponder.
A moment later, he asked, "What's the core?"
"The core of every Cloth is the 88 constellations," Persephone explained. "The lord of the Sanctuary isn't just a title—it's the master of the 88 constellations."
"That's the true core."
"For example, Ares's Berserkers have Cloths imbued with the core of war."
"Apollo's Solar Warriors have Cloths with the core of the sun."
Her explanation clarified things for Alistair, who rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "If that's the case…"
He opened his hand, and instantly, dark divine power surged into the Dark Cloths before him.
The Cloths seemed to boil.
In a flash, as calm returned, the Dark Cloths were restored, their cracks and damage gone.
Now, each Dark Cloth radiated an inky black glow.
The biggest difference?
Before, they were lifeless, devoid of spirit.
Now, they were alive, brimming with vibrant spirituality.
"Darkness," Alistair said with a grin. "Persephone, do these Dark Cloths now have a core?"
"Dust," Persephone said helplessly, "with your rank, a wisp of your divine power is enough. This dark core is sufficient to let these Dark Cloths nurture their own dark constellations."
Alistair pondered this.
Persephone sighed inwardly. Her god-lord was a treasure, yet he either didn't realize or didn't care.
Underworld Warriors.
Demon Teigu Wielders.
Why were these Alistair's two main forces, supplemented by his kin?
Simple.
Underworld Warriors' source was the Demon Stars, and Demon Teigu Wielders' source was the Demon Teigu.
Both possessed the essence of infinite evolution.
That was the core.
In other words, if Alistair wished, he could create countless Cloths with cores in an instant, producing as many warriors as he desired.
Persephone, though exasperated, explained diligently. "Normally, true Cloths need the approval of the 88 constellations to gain a core and grow."
"But, Dust, by infusing them with your dark divine power, these Dark Cloths have bypassed that step and gained a core."
"Barring any surprises, over time, they'll naturally nurture their own dark constellations."
"Eh, no big deal," Alistair said, waving dismissively. "The dark power drawing me here isn't from these. This was just a side project."
Persephone nodded, and they ventured deeper into Death Queen Island.
Truthfully, Alistair was puzzled. Dark Cloths shouldn't just be Dark Bronze Cloths—there should be higher tiers.
In Saint Seiya: The Lost Canvas, Dark Silver Cloths appeared.
So, logically, shouldn't Dark Gold Cloths exist?
These were just guesses, though. With a thought, Alistair could scan the entire island and know everything, but that would be too dull.
Take it slow.
Enjoy the journey.
As a long-lived being now, there was no rush.
With a playful smile, Alistair and Persephone strolled as if sightseeing, though Death Queen Island's scenery wasn't exactly picturesque. Beauty was relative, after all.
Soon, they reached the volcano's edge, gazing at the bubbling lava below, ready to erupt at any moment.
Persephone studied it thoughtfully. "Dust, something's hidden in this volcano."
"I feel it," Alistair nodded. "The true dark power drawing me is inside."
"Let's go check it out."
They leaped into the volcano, vanishing into the molten lava.
Boom!
As they entered, the volcano erupted, endless lava spewing forth, engulfing the island.
All the Dark Cloths were swept up, some sinking into the sea with a sizzle.
Yet, each Dark Cloth glowed with inky black light, unscathed.
"A barrier?" Alistair noted.
"Insignificant," Persephone said, slicing through it with a wave of her hand.
Instantly, her divine power formed a new barrier, enveloping the entire island.
Though Alistair hadn't ordered it, she figured he'd like claiming Death Queen Island.
Alistair smirked. "Persephone, can this barrier block a main god's sight?"
She nodded. "Dust, it's nothing to a God-King, but for main gods like Athena or Ares, even at their peak, they won't detect it."
Alistair nodded, intrigued, as they crossed the barrier.
In an instant, they entered a space filled with endless darkness, yet they could see everything clearly.
"This must be the true fragment of the Mu Continent," Alistair mused, then shook his head. "No, not quite. It's a unique dimensional world built around a Mu Continent fragment, infused with darkness."
"Please…"
"Revenge!"
"Hate!"
As Alistair arrived, he sensed countless intents—not true intents, but pure dark power, brimming with resentment, madness, and hatred.
With a thought, he calmed them, scanning the area with a grin. "These Dark Cloths seem rather interesting."
Indeed, Dark Cloths emerged around them.
Many.
So many.
From Dark Gold Cloths of Aries and others, to Dark Silver Cloths like Aquila, to Dark Bronze Cloths.
Every Cloth had a dark counterpart here, floating in all directions.
"The Ophiuchus Cloth," Persephone noted, spotting the most striking Dark Cloth. "The Ophiuchus Gold Cloth is sealed in the Sanctuary, yet here's its dark version."
The Dark Ophiuchus Gold Cloth was the rarest, with only about a thousand, compared to the tens or hundreds of thousands of others.
"That's an astonishing number," Persephone remarked.
Alistair said nothing, stepping forward and spreading his arms.
Instantly, boundless dark power surged into his body.
The dark dimensional world began losing its darkness, revealing its true form as a dimensional space.
All the darkness flowed into Alistair.
The Dark Cloths fell, their dark essence gone, as if nothing remained.
Behind Alistair, a radiant light emerged, like a universe forming.
In moments, a universe took shape, with the 88 constellations' dark counterparts shining within.
"As expected," Persephone said, shaking her head gently. "With your rank, Dust, this is effortless."
Even the 88 constellations, with their God-King-level essence, were nothing before him.
The 88 constellations and 108 Demon Stars were unique.
Their origins? Hard to say.
But their divine power, if transformed into gods, would rival God-Kings.
That's why Hades and the 108 Demon Stars had a contract—Hades couldn't fully control them.
Similarly, Athena couldn't fully control the 88 constellations; it was a contract.
But Alistair's bond with the 108 Demon Stars was a master-servant contract, making them his completely.
That was the difference in rank.
Now, with just a wisp of the 88 constellations' essence, Alistair had created the Dark 88 Constellations.
What was the point?
Probably just for fun.
Persephone wasn't sure, but the Dark 88 Constellations were rapidly forming, becoming as potent as the true ones.
"Imitations?" Alistair shook his head, amused. "They're not imitations. They simply haven't become true Cloths. Born yet deemed fakes—who could accept that?"
He glanced at Persephone, smiling, and she understood instantly, her own lips curving into a smile.
***
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