The moment the Dread Duchess's vessel moved, the balance of the entire scene shifted.
Her warship advanced without haste, without flare, yet everyone seemed to lean aside for her passage. The crimson sigils etched along its hull ignited one by one, like soldiers straightening their backs before a sovereign.
Everyone felt it instantly, as if a long-delayed decision had finally been made.
The next moment, behind the Dread Duchess, the reaction was immediate. The Enchantress Demon Duchess laughed softly, eyes gleaming as she reclined against her crescent palace.
"Well then~," she hummed, snapping her fingers. "If Big Sister is moving, I can't very well be late, can I?"
Her palace drifted forward, pink mist trailing behind like perfumed poison.
The Corpse Duke followed next without any words or command as his coffin-vessel creaked once, chains rattling as if waking from a nap, and then it slid forward, slow yet inevitable, like a grave being dragged toward its destined occupant.
