In a vast expanse of darkness devoid of even the faintest contour, Haltor wandered. It had been so ever since he crossed the doorway of the Tower of Affliction.
Though his body possessed exceptional muscular strength, fatigue eventually reminded him of his limits as a man. For in truth, without even realising it, he had already covered exactly thirty-six kilometres.
Sweat drenched his entire body, and his heavy breathing echoed through the empty void as he finally decided to stop wandering.
"Is there no end to this?" he exclaimed, placing his hands on his knees.
Then a voice—so soft it could have been mistaken for the whisper of the wind—answered him, dispelling the misery that weighed upon his heart.
Yet what surprised him most in that instant was not the mere fact of encountering someone within this domain of oblivion.
It was the voice itself.
The tone was one he had known for years.
Slowly, he lifted his head, the exhaustion fading from his face as disbelief took its place.
Before him stood the very reason he had abandoned everything in pursuit of the gift of mana—
the love of his life. His beloved wife. Allegria.
She shone with a brilliance akin to the sun itself. Yet her radiance did not illuminate the surrounding darkness; it remained wholly contained within her presence, as though the light existed only for her.
"Allegria! Is that you!? What are you doing here!?" he asked, utterly bewildered.
"We haven't seen each other since that incident… and you won't even run to kiss me like you used to. Have you changed in my absence?" she said softly, a trace of pain in her voice.
"Deception," he thought.
"There's no way this is my wife. She was taken far from me by that sinister mage. Is my mind playing tricks on me? Even so… why does she look exactly like my Allegria?"
His thoughts spiralled in turmoil.
Sensing his inner conflict, Allegria approached him without making a sound and gently wrapped her arms around him in a compassionate embrace.
The contact startled him.
Her body possessed weight. Her arms pressed around him with the familiar tenderness he remembered. Yet her skin was unnaturally cold—like the chill of someone who had wandered too long beneath winter's night. The cold seeped through the sweat on his body and ran along his spine, sending a faint shiver across his muscles.
For a moment, Haltor froze, caught between longing and dread.
Because despite the cold… the embrace felt unmistakably real.
And though her skin carried that unnatural chill, the gentleness of her touch and the delicate way she held him slowly spread a comforting warmth through his exhausted body.
At this point, he felt as though he could melt within her embrace, and the soft curve of her breasts was so soothing that his weary body began to recover from the strain of his long walk. What he felt in that moment was not unlike the relief of a traveller discovering an oasis in the heart of a merciless desert.
The profound serenity he experienced while resting against the cradling chest of his lover was as though he had reached nirvana itself.
A stream of peace and affection enveloped him so completely that, without his consent, clear tears slipped from his eyes. Every feature of her being pointed unmistakably to the woman he had longed to save for so many years.
"Allegria… is that really you?" he asked desperately while holding her.
"Yes, darling. In flesh and bone. I've been trapped here for longer than I can remember. Did you truly come all this way to save me?" she asked, gazing into his eyes with nostalgic tenderness.
"If only you knew how much I missed you. I came to this place to grow stronger so I could claim you back. Don't ever leave my side again. I promise I will protect you and cherish you even more," he wept bitterly as he held her tightly.
She then raised her luminous hands and gently cupped his face.
Blushing like a tomato, tears silently falling from his eyes as the warm sweetness of her breath brushed against him and quickened his heartbeat, she whispered:
"Would you truly offer me your life without a second thought?"
"I would even watch the world burn for your sake," he answered without hesitation.
"Then… let us reclaim the time we lost," she murmured as her face drew closer.
Their lips met.
At first, the kiss was hesitant, fragile, as though they feared the other might vanish. But soon longing took hold. Their lips moved together again and again, existence mingling, hands searching for reassurance that the other was truly there.
Haltor pulled her closer, his hands gripping her waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Their bodies pressed together, warmth spreading between them like a quiet flame rekindled after years of separation.
In the depths of that reunion, their passion slowly consumed the distance that had once separated them. Clothes slipped away without notice.
Skin met skin. Breath against breath. Two hearts beating as one in a moment that seemed to dissolve the world itself.
When Haltor began to explore her body with tender devotion, Allegria let out a soft, trembling sigh. Yet she did not resist, nor did she attempt to slow him. Instead, she welcomed him with the same yearning that burned within him.
Their bodies moved together in a rhythm born from longing and rediscovered love, as though they were dancing to a melody only they could hear.
But something subtle occurred beyond Haltor's awareness. For he was utterly enraptured.
The more he tasted the warmth of Allegria's body, the lighter he seemed to become.
Little by little. Moment after moment. Until the inevitable climax of their reunion arrived.
At the very instant their passion reached its peak, Haltor collapsed to the ground, completely exhausted. His breathing trembled weakly.
His body, once powerful and imposing, had become startlingly thin — so lean that even Victoria or Mathurin would appear remarkably healthy by comparison.
Yet despite the alarming frailty of his body… A faint smile lingered on his lips.
For in his fading mind, he still believed he had finally reunited with the woman he loved.
"How was I? I remained pure and strong for you," he said with wavering breath.
She slowly sat atop him, her fingers gliding over his body in slow, deliberate motions, as though she were an artist admiring the final strokes of a masterpiece.
"You were perfect," she replied with a capricious smile.
"Then… let's go back home…" Haltor murmured faintly. "We'll have children… and live happily ever after in our ranch. Racing the fields of daffodils as you always loved to."
A melancholic smile appeared on his lips as the life he had always dreamed of flickered through his fading mind.
"Yes, darling," she answered sweetly.
Haltor's eyes slowly closed while that gentle smile remained upon his face.
For a moment, silence returned to the endless darkness. Then Allegria rose.
A quiet sigh escaped her lips as her form began to change. The shadow beneath her twisted unnaturally, swallowing the soft radiance that had once surrounded her.
"But…" she murmured.
Darkness slowly wrapped around her body, eclipsing the warm light she had worn like a disguise.
"I must now tend to the main feast." Her voice carried a faint note of amusement.
The illusion evanesced.
Before Haltor's lifeless body now stood her true form.
An unusually tall, feminine figure draped in garments woven from living darkness floated above the ground like a tranquil cloud. Around her drifted several darkish-green orbs, suspended in the air as though bound to her silent will.
Two eyes lay hidden beneath a divine blindfold, their gaze sealed from the world, while above her forehead, a third eye remained closed and sealed, its secrets concealed from mortal sight.
Two halo-like rings floated above her head, while four horns emerged directly from her skull, curving upward like ancient crowns, clearly separated from the hovering halos.
Four arms extended from her divine frame. Primordial tattoos covered her entire body, their patterns now revealed as the constellations of the heavens, strewn across her skin like a living night sky. Among them, one stood apart—a dark marking stretching from where her eyes lay hidden down to the lowest part of her face, like eternal tears etched into her flesh.
Her hair, a cascading blend of silver-white and deepest night black, floated around her like a living veil, shimmering with a beauty both ethereal and untouchable, as though the cosmos itself had woven it from starlight and shadow. Her lips glowed with a red so pure, so impossible, that it seemed no mortal language could capture its perfection.
Darkened gold arm and leg guards adorned her limbs, worn not as ornament, but as relics of something far older than war. From her ears hung delicate chains of diamond-like brilliance, each ending in a subtle ace-shaped sigil that swayed with an almost imperceptible grace. Her fingers, slender yet unyielding, were tipped with sharp, refined nails—more divine than monstrous, yet no less capable of harm.
It was those tattoos that radiated, shining with a brilliance like the farthest stars in the cosmos.
She was Eros. The fallen goddess of love.
"I must confess," she said with languid satisfaction, "among all the meals I have devoured over these past centuries… this one was particularly exquisite."
Her lips curved into a faint, indulgent smile.
"For that reason, I shall not defile your body. Rest well, brave man. You were a decent meal."
Her gaze lingered briefly upon Haltor.
For even she, a goddess who had consumed countless souls, felt a trace of admiration for the man whose unwavering devotion had driven him to cross entire lands for the sake of the woman he loved.
Then she stepped forward. Without hesitation. Without remorse.
Passing over his corpse as though it were nothing more than a fallen leaf.
For Haltor Kambos had drawn his final breath.
Outside the Tower of Affliction, while Victoria lay unconscious, Haltor's face slowly emerged among the hundreds of screaming visages etched upon its surface.
The surrounding magic circles pulsed in response, their glow betraying the change.
Not far from them, Damian lay upon the ground, the effects of the mandragora at last fading from his body. As his vision steadied, the revelation reached him.
"It has begun," he murmured, a faint, knowing smile forming upon his lips.
***
In a vast field of red and blue roses, their petals drifting endlessly upon the wind, Ezabel encountered Eros.
It was as though love seized her at first sight.
The being before her eclipsed every tale she had ever heard, every rumour ever whispered. Words, once plentiful in her devotion, abandoned her.
Before her stood not merely a goddess—but a sovereign among divinities, a beauty so absolute it defied thought, a magnificence that imposed itself as perfection.
In her hand, Eros held a single black rose, its petals deeper than night itself, which she raised delicately to her nose, savouring its fragrance as though it alone carried a truth beyond the field of roses that stretched around them.
Overwhelmed, Ezabel lowered herself, bowing in reverence before that supreme existence.
"Your beauty lies beyond my comprehension… I lack the words to honour such radiance."
Eros regarded her with distant indifference. Praise was no rarity to her—such offerings had long since lost their savour.
"Bold, to lavish such words upon a goddess," she said, her gaze resting upon Ezabel's bowed form.
"I would never presume to offend you. Such a thought would be sacrilege," Ezabel replied, her forehead nearly touching the ground.
"Your praises are fleeting. Speak your desire," Eros answered, her tone edged with quiet ennui.
"I have no longing to become a mage," Ezabel confessed, her voice trembling with fervour. "I have always been among your most devoted faithful. I have praised you, prayed to you without end. I came here for but one purpose… to remain by your side for all eternity, to behold your flawless beauty without cease."
"Is that so?" Eros murmured.
"Yes," Ezabel answered without hesitation.
"Then let us test the truth of your devotion."
As the fallen goddess uttered those words, her shadow cast upon Ezabel began to writhe—stretching, distorting, swelling beyond all-natural form.
"Raise your head."
Ezabel obeyed, lifting her gaze with trembling anticipation, her heart alight with fervent hope.
But that hope was shattered.
The roses withered in an instant, their petals blackening as they fell to dust. The sky above collapsed into a void—devoid of stars, bereft of moonlight. And in place of the goddess stood something unspeakable.
A colossal chimaera.
An abomination of flesh and divinity intertwined—human and beast rendered into a single grotesque whole. Limbs jutted where none should exist, eyes blinked from every surface, faces writhed within its mass. Wings unfurled in discordant forms—feather and fur woven into a monstrous tapestry. Above it, two vast halos hovered, sanctifying its horror.
"Would you remain by my side… for all eternity?" Its countless faces glaringly fixed upon Ezabel.
"Where… is the goddess…?" Her thoughts faltered. "What is this… abomination?"
Its presence descended upon her like a crushing tide. A suffocating aura—dark, ancient, absolute. Her body betrayed her, trembling uncontrollably as her heart pounded with such violence, she thought it might tear free from her chest.
Reason abandoned her.
A scream tore from her throat—raw, unrestrained, shattering the silence.
But it did not last. The creature seized her. Its grip was inescapable.
Bones gave way with a sickening cadence, her body folding beneath an inhuman force as agony consumed her entirely.
"Ah—!" Her cry was broken—crushed along with her.
But the creature harboured no trace of mercy.
Its countless maws parted at once—and her soul was torn from her, stretched in opposing directions like fragile threads, each fragment seized and devoured with a ravenous hunger that allowed no escape, no cohesion, until even the remnants of her essence were reduced to nothingness, as though her very existence had been erased mid-scream.
"Perhaps… true beauty… dwells not in love…" her mind trembled, no longer in devotion but in fragile, broken clarity, each thought slipping away as her essence unravelled, "but… in death…" she realised, surrendering to a truth too cruel to deny, her fading consciousness clinging to that final, haunting understanding.
Her body fell limp.
With careless force, the beast cast the husk away.
Devoid of all essence, Ezabel's remains had grown grotesquely frail—so brittle that even the wind proved too great a burden. Her body ruptured mid-flight, breaking apart into fragments that scattered across the withered rose field, blood staining the dead petals as her form came undone.
The abomination dissolved.
Its vast shape collapsed inward, reforming into a smaller, composed figure—the true form of the fallen goddess.
"Forever by my side, you say?" she murmured, her gaze dimming with disdain. "Such grand words… so befitting of mortals."