Alista watched Klaus closely. The man looked as if he had just seen his own ghost. It wasn't just the exhaustion of the fight; something had spooked him to the very core of his soul.
'What could have possibly happened in those few seconds after the kill?' Alista wondered, but Klaus remained tight-lipped.
Turning his gaze toward the Changing Star's cohort, Alista noticed another anomaly. Nephis wasn't looking at the dead Spire Messenger, nor was she assessing him with her usual cold, tactical precision. She stood frozen, star-struck, her silver eyes wide with utter shock.
'Now that is creepy,' Alista thought.
He followed her line of sight and realized she was staring directly at Gwen. The intensity of the gaze was so heavy that even Gwen, usually a phantom in the background, shifted uncomfortably, her hand tightening on the hilt of her katana.
Alista stepped forward, physically breaking the line of sight. "Changing Star," he said, his voice dropping into a warning growl. "May I know why the hell you are staring at Gwen like she's a ghost?"
Nephis blinked, her expression remaining bewildered. She looked at Alista as if he were the one being strange. "You... you know her?"
"She is my friend and a member of my cohort," Alista replied, his tone laced with confusion. "We hunt together. The question is, how the hell do you know her?"
Nephis stared at him for a long moment, truly shocked. "Blood Emperor... do you really not know? Don't you know the Queen of Music?"
Alista felt a blank look wash over his face. The title meant nothing to him.
Nephis continued, her voice tinged with a rare touch of reverence. "She is The Queen of Music. The only singer in the world whose fame rivaled—and sometimes surpassed—Nightingale. Her songs were the anthem I thought she had disappeared during an exploration mission a year ago."
Alista's stomach dropped. He turned his head slowly to look at Gwen, who had lowered her gaze to the ashen ground. He remembered her Flaw.
'Gods, that is cruel,' he realized.
The Nightmare Spell was a sadistic architect. To take a girl who lived for melody, whose soul was tied to the power of her voice and the love of millions, and strike her mute... it was a special kind of hell. Her Flaw didn't just prevent her from talking; it was a cage that prevented her from being the very thing she was born to be. No wonder she was so withdrawn. It wasn't just trauma; it was the fear of the pity that would inevitably follow her fallen crown.
"I see," Alista said, his voice softening as he turned back to Nephis. "Regardless of who she was, she is a warrior now. Please... don't stare at her like that anymore."
Without waiting for a response, he signaled his team to move.
[Klaus POV]
Klaus walked in a daze, his mind a frantic workshop as he rummaged through the details of the vision. He needed to categorize the impossible before it drove him mad.
'First: Alista and the fire,' Klaus noted. 'The Alista I know uses weakness and arrogance-inducing tricks. But in the fire, he was a god of flame. Either he's hiding a massive part of his Aspect, or he eventually finds a Memory so powerful it changes his entire combat style.'
'Second: The kill.' Klaus felt a shiver. 'He killed a Master. And not just any Master—Jet. One of the strongest soul-damage specialists in the government. For an Awakened to take her head... the power gap is terrifying.'
'Third: The prayer.' Klaus thought the words silently, careful not to let them reach his lips:
"The Fool that doesn't belong to this era;
The Mysterious Ruler above the Gray Fog;
The King of Yellow and Black who wields good luck."
'The Gods are dead,' Klaus reminded himself. 'Everyone knows that. So who—or what—is "The Fool"? And why was Cassie, the Oracle of the Changing Star, praying to it for salvation?'
He had so many questions regarding Sunny's "Shadow Saint" as well. It wasn't a mere Echo; it felt like a living, breathing companion.
"Hey! Trash Talker!"
A loud, boisterous voice shattered his focus. He looked up to see Effie standing in his path, grinning like a shark. "What the hell were you thinking about? I've been calling your name for a minute."
Klaus regained his mask of sarcasm. "What is it, Dirty Buffie? Missed the sound of my voice?"
Effie giggled, though her eyes remained sharp. "So, you guys killed a Spire Messenger. You do realize that makes your little band a direct threat to the Bright Lord, right? Gunlaug doesn't like competition. How does it feel to have a target on your back?"
"What is there to feel?" Klaus shrugged. "We fought to kill it. We killed it. That's the end of the story."
Effie leaned in. "Why did you join Genma's team just to quit? And why the Blood Emperor? What are you really looking for, Klaus?"
"None of your business," Klaus replied coldly.
He brushed past her, joining Alista as they collected the spoils of the hunt and began the long walk back to their territory.
On the way back to the settlement, the atmosphere among the cohort was heavy. Alista kept his pace steady until he reached Gwen's side. He leaned in and whispered so only she could hear.
"Is it true? Are you the Queen of Music?"
Gwen's steps faltered. She came to a dead halt. The rest of the group stopped and looked back, sensing the change in gravity.
"Guys, give us some time," Alista said, looking at Artemis and Klaus. "I need to discuss something with Gwen alone."
They nodded understandingly and moved a short distance ahead.
Alista turned to Gwen and gently narrated what Nephis had told him. As he spoke, the small, shy smile Gwen usually wore completely vanished. Her face was overcome by a wave of profound sadness, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she remembered the stage, the lights, and the voice she would never hear again.
Alista frowned, feeling a surge of protective rage against the Spell. "I'm going to find a way, Gwen."
She looked up at him, confused.
"I will search for a method to overcome your Flaw," Alista promised, his voice ringing with absolute conviction. "It may take time. It may require us to reach the highest peaks of this nightmare, but I promise you—you will sing again."
Alista believed it because he had to. He remembered fragments of legends—how others had bypassed the "rules" of the Spell through sheer will or ancient artifacts.
Gwen looked at him for a long moment. She gave a small, sad smile and a polite nod, but Alista could tell she didn't truly believe him. To her, it was just a kind lie to soothe a broken heart.
She raised her hands and signaled: [Why? Why go to such lengths for a singer who can no longer sing?]
Alista didn't hesitate. "Because you are my cohort. You are one of my allies. And I take care of that."
Gwen was stunned. She looked at him, and then a smile broke across her face—not the sad, polite one from before, but something innocent and pure. It was a look that felt out of place in the dark, rotting world of the Forgotten Shore.
As the weeks passed, the legend of the Slayers of the Spire Messenger spread through the Dark City like wildfire. Alista and his group became a household name, their reputation beginning to rival even the saintly aura of the Changing Star.
People who were tired of Gunlaug's tyranny—but too afraid of Nephis's radical ideals—began to flock to Alista. They saw in him a leader who was powerful, practical, and undeniably successful. A third faction was being born in the ruins, a middle ground built on the strength of the Blood Emperor.
Meanwhile, Alista Tudor retreated into a cycle of relentless growth. He spent his nights absorbing Soul Shards. He was preparing for the inevitable.
But as the balance of power shifted, the atmosphere in the settlement grew volatile. The peace between the Changing Star and the Blood Emperor was a fragile glass bridge, and the first cracks were beginning to show.
The situation was about to flip, and when it did, the Forgotten Shore would burn.