The light of the mortal world did not reach that place.
The sky was a storm of purple clouds, dimensional fractures, and flashes of raw mana. At the center, upon a fragment of land floating between realities, a circle of divine runes burned with an unnatural glow.
The Heralds waited.
Five figures in white robes embroidered with gold, their faces hidden behind masks shaped after the visages of their respective gods.
They did not breathe.They did not speak.They did not blink.
Until the rift opened.
A tear in reality—like the very fabric of the Stellar Veil pulled too tight.
From within it emerged… nothingness.
A dark vortex.An eye without a pupil.A presence without form or shadow.
Only hunger.
The High Herald stepped forward.
"Come, demon," he said solemnly. "We know your time is running out."
The darkness trembled… as if answering with a whisper in a language no human should ever understand.
But the Heralds understood.
They had been blessed for that purpose.
"You wish to return to Heaven," the Herald continued. "But your essence is too weakened. You are… a memory. A shadow of what you once were."
A tremor rippled through the void.
A wave of pure hatred.Resentment.Ancient fury.
At last, the demon spoke.
Its voice did not sound.
It was felt.
"A pact was sealed.Fulfill your part…"
The High Herald nodded.
"We will. But first… explain it to them."
From the rift emerged a second presence.
A golden glow.
Soft.Deceptively pure.
It was a partial avatar of a lesser god, its image projected like an echo. It could not descend physically—doing so would bind it to mortality—but its "divine shadow" was enough for this meeting.
The god spoke with a calm, gentle voice.
"My brothers in Heaven suspect nothing. They believe this demon will soon fade away… and that you Heralds are spreading my word quietly across the world."
A pause.
Then the voice grew colder.
"But you and I know the truth.We need each other."
The Heralds bowed their heads.
"We desire stability," said the Herald wearing the blue mask. "But to achieve it… we must eliminate threats to divine order."
The lesser god nodded.
"And Duchess Sofía Douglas of Mondring… is such a threat."
The demon convulsed violently, as if recognizing the name.
Larvae of darkness spilled from the rift, writhing and twisting.
"Her soul…is perfect."
The High Herald continued.
"Her magical beasts are divided. Only Larriet, the lion, remains with her. The moment is now."
"The Douglas family does not pray," another Herald added. "They are a symbol of human independence. Of self-reliance. Of pride. If the duchess lives, Lusian will grow into a leader who will not need the gods."
The lesser god clenched its luminous hand, sparks spilling from its fingers.
"Faith is declining. I must restore it. If the world believes that neither heroes nor nobles can protect themselves from the rise of mana… they will pray even more."
The demon advanced slightly.
The edges of its form scorched the physical space around it.
"Bring her.Bring her…and I will open a path to Heaven."
The High Herald raised his hand, revealing a map of the Douglas Duchy made of divine light.
"Our spies have already infiltrated nearby villages. Demonic cultists will perform minor rituals. They will attract mutated monsters. They will weaken the barriers."
Another Herald added:
"It will appear to be a natural disaster caused by the Stellar Veil phenomenon. No one will suspect anything. Humans will believe it was… simply bad luck."
The lesser god smiled.
"And when Sofía dies…"
The demon finished the sentence.
"…I will be reborn."
"…and I will ascend," added the god.
"…and we will rule," the Heralds concluded.
The unholy alliance was sealed.
The runes flared with a sickening brightness.The rift pulsed like a heart.The lesser god vanished.
And the demon, strengthened by the promises, expanded with a silent roar.
The Heralds began to depart.
But before leaving, the High Herald murmured:
"Sofía Douglas of Mondring…may your fall be glorious.
And may your death…be only the beginning."
The rift closed.
And the darkness spread toward the Duchy.