"You will make a beautiful sculpture in my room."
Mary's voice was soft—almost affectionate—as golden light pooled around her feet, crawling up the broken stone like living metal. Her eyes shone with reverence, fixed on the figure before her as though she were already imagining eternity.
She smiled.
Just as she tried to call out to Dios—
Her breath hitched.
A sharp, wet cough tore out of her throat.
Blood splashed onto the marble floor.
Mary staggered, confusion flashing across her face. She raised a trembling hand to her lips, staring at the red staining her fingers. Before she could process it, more liquid warmth spilled downward.
From her eyes.
Her vision blurred violently.
"What… what is happening?" she gasped.
Pain detonated behind her skull, a searing pressure that made her scream. She clawed at her face as blood streamed freely down her cheeks.
"AHH—my eyes! My beautiful—beautiful golden eyes!"
Her scream echoed through the shattered hall, desperation finally cracking her divine composure.
A voice answered her from behind.
Amused. Calm.
"I always considered myself an artistic piece."
Mary froze.
"But thanks for the compliment."
Cold presence brushed her spine.
She turned—
And Theora stood there.
Alive.
Unturned.
Crimson eyes gleamed beneath silver hair streaked with dried blood. Not a trace of gold marred her body.
Mary's lips parted.
"I… I thought I turned you to gold."
Theora tilted her head slightly, a smile tugging at her lips.
"Yes. You did."
Mary's breath caught—
"Girl," Theora continued, casually, "that was my blood double. Not me."
Reality slammed into Mary like a hammer.
"As for your current condition," Theora said, circling her slowly, "it's a blood curse. A side effect of being around my blood for too long."
Mary snarled, fury boiling through pain.
"Do you really think a petty curse is enough to stop me?!"
Space warped violently as she raised her arm.
"Spatial Technique—Interdimensional Slash!"
The world split.
The blade of distortion tore cleanly through Theora's body, bisecting her from shoulder to hip. Blood sprayed outward as her form collapsed.
For a heartbeat—
Mary smiled.
Then laughter echoed through the chamber.
"Ohohoh~ That's quite the attack."
Theora's body dissolved into liquid crimson, splattering across the floor—only to surge upward again, blood twisting, knitting, reforming into flesh and bone.
"Blood Arts—Convergent Crimson Blast."
A dense sphere of compressed blood spiraled forward, pressure bending the air around it.
Mary scoffed, pain sharpening her voice.
"You really are naïve if you think that attack is going to break my reflective shield."
The blast drew closer—
And detonated.
Not against her barrier.
But around it.
The air collapsed inward.
"GRAAHH—!"
Mary was slammed into the ground as invisible force crushed her downward. Stone exploded beneath her body, shockwaves tearing outward.
She gasped.
Something impaled her from below.
Her eyes widened as blood stakes erupted through the ground, piercing her abdomen and legs, pinning her in place.
She screamed.
Theora stepped closer, gaze cold and analytical.
"I noticed something strange about your ability," she said quietly. "It only reflects attacks you're aware of. Attacks you can consciously perceive."
Mary trembled, choking on blood.
"Earlier," Theora continued, "Tenmaru's flames scorched you. Just slightly."
She looked down at Mary, unblinking.
"That shouldn't happen if your shield was absolute."
Her lips curved faintly.
"You can't reflect what you don't sense."
Elsewhere, heat distorted the battlefield.
Tenmaru stood amid wavering air, flames curling lazily around him.
Dios snarled, tightening his grip on his blade.
Tenmaru grinned.
"Your sword's pretty sharp," he said. "Too bad—it melted."
Dios scoffed. "What are you talking about? Has the pain finally made you lose your mind?"
Then he looked down.
The blade was liquefying.
Metal sagged, dripping like wax.
"…You've got to be kidding me."
Tenmaru stepped closer, heat intensifying with every step.
"Ever heard of a heat haze?" he asked calmly. "Extreme temperatures distort perception. Makes people see things that aren't really there."
Dios's breath stuttered.
He looked up.
Tenmaru's arm—
Was intact.
The severed limb lying on the ground…
Never existed.
Shock froze him in place.
"N–No…"
Tenmaru raised his hand.
"Freeze the flames. Melt the ice."
The air twisted.
"Intertwine what is—and what shouldn't be."
Reality screamed.
"Impale the vast horizons."
The world folded inward.
"Duality Technique — Paradox Step."
Dios's body convulsed violently.
Bone bent where it shouldn't. Flesh twisted, caught between opposing states of existence.
He screamed, trying to regenerate—
Nothing happened.
The healing failed.
Tenmaru exhaled slowly.
Behind him, the wall of flames dropped.
"Are you finally done?" Theora called out.
Tenmaru nodded.
That was when—
The air collapsed.
A portal opened above them, pressure slamming down like a divine judgment. The ground cracked as an overwhelming force pinned everything in place.
A figure stepped out.
White-pink hair.
A black mask concealing his face.
He stood upon a platform of condensed air, feet never touching the ground.
"Oh," he said pleasantly, tilting his head. "Your battle was so entertaining to watch."
The pressure intensified.
Tenmaru tried to rise.
Failed.
"Who… are you?" he growled through clenched teeth.
The man chuckled.
"You really are something, novice Demon Lord Tenmaru-san. To even attempt standing under this force is commendable."
His gaze shifted.
"Mary. Dios. You ca
n't die just yet."
He lifted a hand.
"I assume you were planning to use your Golden Circle technique—without permission."
His tone cooled.
"For today, it's your loss."
Mary and Dios were ripped from the ground, dragged helplessly toward him.
"It's time to go back."
He tossed them into the portal like discarded tools.
Then he looked at Tenmaru again.
"As for who I am—telling you now would spoil the fun."
A faint smile colored his voice.
"I'm simply an angelic soldier."
The portal began to close.
"Oh—and don't be so tense. Angels won't be attacking you anytime soon."
His presence faded.
"It's the other races you should be worried about."
Silence followed.
The pressure vanished.
Theora pushed herself up slowly.
"I had a feeling," she said quietly, "that whatever that was… could destroy this kingdom in a heartbeat."
Tenmaru stared at the sky, still processing the weight of what had just occurred.
Far away, beneath towering halls of light and judgment, voices clashed.
The Angelic Monarch's expression remained unreadable.
"The Zonac Alliance," he declared calmly, "has been dissolved."
A scoff echoed through the chamber.
"Is that because you lost again?" the elven queen said coldly. "Ending it out of shame?"
Laughter followed.
"Oh, this is amusing," the dwarven king said. "And the weapons you asked us to forge? I assume that agreement no longer stands."
"Do as you please," the Angelic Monarch replied.
The connection severed.
Not long after, Tenmaru sat across from Dracula and Theora within the Night Kingdom.
He explained everything.
The masked angel. The pressure. The retreat.
Dracula listened in silence.
"The Zonac Alliance has been dissolved," he finally said.
Tenmaru frowned. "Why?"
Dracula shook his head. "No explanation. The Angelic Monarch ended it suddenly—right after the dragonoids, vampires, and spirits left the last meeting."
He paused.
"It was the dwarven king who informed me."
Theora crossed her arms. "Ever heard of an angel with no wings? Wearing a mask?"
Dracula's eyes darkened.
"No. And angels are secretive—but not only them. The other races are the same."
Something was moving.
Hidden.
High within the Jurgan Mountains, ancient stone trembled beneath massive pressure.
A colossal throne of layered scales loomed over the chamber.
A voice echoed, deep and absolute.
"My dear ultimate and supreme soldiers… the Draconics."
The air vibrated.
"Since the Zonac Alliance has proven useless…"
A cruel smile formed.
"We shall take matters into our own hands."