10th Day of the 2nd Earth Cycle[1], 2000, g.c.
The dimensional arena around us began its reconnection to the material world.
The spatial separation barrier wobbled first, like flawless glass suddenly remembering it had only been pretending the whole time. Violet light rippled along its curved surface in slow rings, one after another, each pulse lowering back into the dance floor with soft, magical pressure. The miles of folded space around us started collapsing inward with gentle precision, not violently, but like Castle Midnight was exhaling after holding a massive breath. The distant violet horizon folded into itself. The black marble battlefield tightened back toward the Grand Hall's material dimensions. Silver moon markings pulled themselves flat across the dance floor again, shining for a few seconds before dimming into decorative lines.
The magitech speakers kept the music low.
Soft drums. Smooth bass. A melody that sounded like it was trying to return to the party without interrupting the aftermath of violence. The crowd was alive and loud, though. The Royal Player's Ball was buzzing off combat fumes and unlimited alcohol. People were cheering, laughing, whispering, arguing, and replaying Gaijin's defeat like an ESPN breakdown.
Talasi locals near the left side were already acting out my shadow uppercut like they had seen the replay in slow motion. One nobleman held his drink too high while confidently explaining a fight he absolutely did not understand. A Nox woman corrected him immediately with the confidence of somebody also wrong, but much sexier about it.
A few Kurozumi guards stood stiff with their jaws tight, not knowing whether to be furious, impressed, or grateful their prince was still alive. The Aylin sisters looked like they had just watched a myth step off a wall painting and ask for a refill. Vasilisa was frozen in professional awe. Sumo was laughing loud enough to make his attendants nervous. Swamp was somewhere yelling my name like we had won a tournament instead of nearly starting a diplomatic incident.
Me?
I stood over the Kurozumi prince, calm but breathing a little deeper than before.
I didn't go all out. Not even close. But I did start having fun at the end. That was the tricky part. The part that made the corners of my soul itch. I had told myself the fight was for diplomacy, for proof, for tradition, for East Velonica, for all that grown royal nonsense. But when Gaijin pushed me enough to make me feel pain again, when he forced me to adjust, when he gave me that hungry warrior grin through blood and broken breath, I enjoyed it.
More than I probably should have.
The cracked marble beneath Gaijin's body still smoked faintly with leftover Deadwind and Devil Mana. The air smelled like burnt oxygen, scorched fabric, iron-heavy blood, and that strange sharpness left behind after Electric Mana snapped through a space too fast. His suit was ruined at the torso, the material eaten and burned where October's Uzumaki drilled into him. His black-and-white horns still glowed faintly from the fight, but his body lay still, chest moving just enough to tell the room he hadn't crossed over into worse territory.
Queen Sayaka came rushing toward her brother, furious and worried, while her four guards moved with her.
Her gown flowed behind her like a black-and-red night garden caught in a breeze. The red flowers in her hair trembled with each quick step, gold ornaments chiming around her face. She looked regal, dangerous, and scared in a way she was trying very hard to bury. Her guards fell in behind her, hands near their weapons, eyes cutting toward me like they were calculating whether loyalty could survive stupidity.
They turned their glare toward me.
Sayaka raised one hand and stopped them from doing anything stupid.
That hand didn't shake. Even angry, she knew she was still in my house.
Her guards froze at once, disciplined enough to obey even while their prince was on the ground. I respected that. I also appreciated not having to fold four Kurozumi guards into decorative wall art in front of their queen. That would have complicated the alliance paperwork something terrible. I was already gathering Yang Mana together as my remaining Bio Mana converted into clusters of the affinity in my open palm.
The energy formed soft and golden at first, warm as sunrise through closed curtains. Then it brightened, becoming a round, breathing glow above my hand. Little filaments of white-gold light curled from my fingers, braiding themselves into a circle. My Bio Mana fed into it in quiet pulses, converting into healing radiance with a rhythm that felt gentler than everything I had just done. It was a weird contrast. The same hand that knocked Gaijin out was now building him a way back.
What can I say? I really did have range.
I knelt beside Sayaka and Gaijin, letting the gold light spill across the cracked marble. Then I formed the Recovery Sphere around Gaijin's body.
The sphere bloomed around him like a transparent bubble made of sunlight and warm water. Its surface shimmered with gentle waves, golden-white on the outside, pale green and soft amber underneath. Inside it, tiny rings of Yang Mana rotated around his limbs, chest, throat, and head. They moved like careful hands. The hum that came from it was low and soothing, almost like a choir whispering through a wall.
Sayaka's red eyes widened.
"Casting without chanting?"
I gave her a small shrug, still holding the spell steady. The nearest whispers died, then came back sharper.
"Oops. Looks like I slipped up on that secret."
That got a few more nearby whispers.
Of course it did.
People loved secrets until they got one, then suddenly they became courier birds with jet engines. The fact that I could cast without incantations had been noticed by a few already, but public healing without a chant after a duel? Yeah, that was gonna grow legs and run laps around Velonica by sunrise.
Gaijin's body started putting itself back together within the bubble of flowing healing magick as the Recovery Sphere hummed softly.
Torn tissue closed first. The ugly, corroded trails across his stomach softened under golden light, dead skin peeling into ash-colored flakes before being replaced by new flesh beneath. Bruises faded from deep purple to dull yellow, then vanished like shame leaving a drunk body. Internal damage repaired in a stitch, organs easing back into function, ribs settling, muscle fibers knitting together in tiny luminous threads. His breathing evened out. The blood at the corner of his mouth dried and flaked away under the warm glow.
A small pain remained.
Enough to remember the lesson.
But the danger was gone.
A few yards behind me, Vasilisa's visible eye brightened with that celadon Gem Mana glow again. She looked from the Recovery Sphere to my hand, then back to my face as if she was trying to force the scene into a category to make it make sense.
"He can cast without incantations. I knew it. But zere is no spell like zis in RIAA databank."
Vasilisa noticed the precision behind my Mana Art, the lack of chants, and the fact that she had never seen a healing spell like it before. I don't think she was prepared to have her mind blown so many times in one night. The poor woman came here expecting recruitment, politics, and maybe some strong male eye candy. Instead, she got spatial portals, public duels, new mana arts, and now chantless healing magick after I knocked a prince unconscious.
Cecil murmured to himself about mana control before Kairos disrupted his thought with another question about Qi. The old historian looked fascinated in a calm way, which was always dangerous because Kairos fascinated meant the explanation was probably long enough to qualify as a small book. Cecil's golden tail flicked in annoyance as he tried to watch me, think about technique, and answer a cosmic nerd at the same time.
Queen Sayaka looked at me in shock, as she wasn't expecting to see a Demon Lord healing anyone.
Apparently, neither was Frost.
Up on the second level, his cold presence stayed still behind the railing. I didn't look directly at him, but I could feel the attention. The judgment. The discomfort. It was a contradiction to some witnesses. Demon Lords had a reputation for being merciless. Violent. Hunger. Destruction. Domination. They expected the punch, not the patch-up. They expected the shadow, not the sunrise in my palm.
But I had never been interested in being exactly what people expected.
Gaijin's eye fluttered open for half a second.
The boy looked like he was ready to keep fighting.
His fingers twitched, and his jaw tightened like pride had woken before his nervous system got the notice. But I guess his body reminded him that he had just caught a fade and a knock-off Rasengan to the gut, because his attempt to rise ended with a sharp inhale and a pained wince.
"Relax a bit while the Recovery Sphere patches you up. Unless you wanna embarrass yourself again."
Gaijin exhaled, then gave a short laugh, trying to ignore the pain.
"I must thank you, King Mikazuki-dono. No... King Mikazuki-sama. For accepting the duel... and for the healing."
That correction landed quietly.
Not loud enough to make a huge scene, but loud enough for Sayaka to hear. Loud enough for the nearest Kurozumi guards to stiffen. Loud enough for me to understand what he was giving me. Respect. Not a full submission. Not friendship. But respect from a man who had demanded proof and got a whole damn curriculum.
"Next time, try not to challenge the host if you ain't finna improve the mood. That's Olympic-level hoe scaring, my nigga."
Gaijin's mouth twitched like he wanted to laugh harder, but his ribs advised against it.
"I'll keep that in mind. I'll also think more about your words on my father."
"Reflecting is free. And better for your well-being than challenging me. You know, this hospital bill would have been expensive."
"Understood. Still, I got to experience your true power, so I'm satisfied."
"True power, huh? If only you knew."
The thought passed through me with a strange heaviness.
A few hours ago, I would have laughed at it with no extra weight. But now it sat there. True power. People kept saying it like they had seen the bottom of the well because I let them look past the rim. Gaijin had seen more than most, sure. Qi survival, Bio Mana boost, shadow feint, Deadwind rotation, Recovery Sphere. A whole little tasting menu of "please stop underestimating me."
But my true power?
Nah.
That was still somewhere deep, breathing in the dark, waiting for me to catch up to whatever my soul had apparently been preparing. And lately, that darkness inside me felt less like a reservoir and more like an egg waiting to crack.
The Recovery Sphere wrapped up its healing before dissolving with a whispering pop.
The golden bubble collapsed into tiny lights that drifted upward like fireflies before fading. The last threads of Yang Mana slipped into Gaijin's body, leaving his skin whole, his breathing steady, and his consciousness barely holding onto the edge. The cracks beneath him finished repairing in slow violet pulses until the black marble looked almost untouched.
Queen Sayaka checked over her baby brother first.
She crouched beside him with the controlled grace of a ruler who refused to fully panic in front of an audience. Her fingers moved along his jaw, shoulder, and chest, confirming the healing with quick, precise touches. The anger had not left her face. It had simply waited its turn behind worry.
Then she thumped him on the forehead between his horns.
Gaijin winced.
"Ouch, what was that for?"
Sayaka's eyes narrowed down at him.
"Baka! How dare you wager our nation's alliance without my approval?"
Gaijin looked away with the shame of a man who had survived a Demon Lord but was about to lose to his sister.
"Sorry, Saya-chan. I didn't think you would mind. Especially after the way you were looking at him."
A quick blush hit her face before she adjusted her sight over to me. That was funny.
I ain't gon' lie, seeing the queen get exposed by her half-conscious little brother was premium sibling content. Her composure returned fast, but not fast enough. That little flush had already been witnessed by me, Gaijin, and at least two nearby guards who valued their lives enough to pretend blindness.
"Thank you, again, King Mikazuki-dono. It's rare to see a Majin so skilled in healing magick."
"We can work out the alliance paperwork another day. Nobody should be signing kingdom agreements while half the room is drunk and horny."
Sayaka's eyes softened into something dangerous as her smile turned flirtatious.
"I'm not so sure about that. It may work with just the two of us."
I couldn't help but chuckle, as it caught me off guard.
But the seduction I noticed in her eyes told me she meant every word. The Night Orchid had been watching me all night, with fear and curiosity already touching hands. After the duel, those two had apparently invited lust to sit at the table and sign documents.
"You don't say? I'll be sure to keep that in mind next time."
"Do you mind if we discuss terms at my castle during our next meeting?"
"I can make that arrangement. I'll bring my finest bottle of Braye wine for us."
"Then it is an official diplomatic dinner date," she said, smile softening into something that had no business being diplomatic. "I will make sure my chefs cook your favorite foods. I've heard you like this thing called a cheeseburger."
I paused.
Gaijin groaned from his position on the floor at the sound of his sister flirting. That made the whole thing worse, because he sounded genuinely tired of being alive for this part.
"I have no idea how you know my favorite foods."
Sayaka lifted her chin with royal innocence.
"A queen should know how to prepare for important guests."
Honestly, that sounded innocent. But about as innocent as a sword hanging as a decoration.
Vasilisa was a few yards behind me, silent, but her eyes kept bouncing from me to the Recovery Sphere.
The Recovery Sphere to me.
Me to the fading gold lights.
Then back to me again.
First, she saw me as a powerful M-Cee. But after the Gaijin duel, she saw a showman, a ruler, and the future for the Sociovores in the RIAA. The spellwork had shifted something in her. Combat made legends marketable. Healing made them beloved. Control made them trustworthy.
Jennifer Nox watched me from behind the crowd and her fan, smiling like the night kept proving her instincts right.
Beside her, Omnia and Victorya Umbra were more focused on my posture change. She knew something about wearing a face after violence. Death had taught her that much.
The White Empress spotted it before anyone else, but Omnia wasn't ignorant of it. Victorya's purple glasses reflected the last fading traces of Recovery Sphere light, and her black-painted lips softened from amusement into concern. Omnia's cyan eyes stayed on me, but they looked past my smile, past the little royal smoothness I kept on my face for the crowd.
Victorya spoke low, her voice careful.
"Master still has a smile, but it's sitting heavily on his face. I hope he's ok."
Omnia's gaze softened.
"He needs a moment. I'm going to go help him get one."
Azumi perked up immediately, bright-eyed and too eager to be helpful in the chaotic way only she could manage.
"Ooouu, that sounds fun. I'll help."
Victorya fought against her impulse to come check on me.
I could feel that too. That quiet tether. That new loyalty of hers was still figuring out how close it was allowed to stand when my mood shifted. She remained seated, but her fingers curled against her dress for a second before relaxing. She wanted to move. Wanted to come to me. Not the Twilight Goddess.
Omnia didn't hesitate.
My queen stood, and the crowd adjusted around her before anyone consciously decided to move. Some bowed. Some stared. A few stepped back with the memory of her aura still fresh in their bones.
Azumi moved closer to the food, using her soft charm and sharp eyes to guide guests and keep the party moving. Smart girl. She didn't follow Omnia directly. She became a distraction and a stabilizer. She waved a servant over, pointed toward a tray, smiled at a noblewoman who looked like she wanted to ask me twenty questions, and somehow redirected three conversations back toward food, drinks, and the fact that the party was still happening.
The party kept breathing because my women knew when to hold me and when to hold the room.
The High Queen of Velonica moved through the pond of nobles on the marble floor with divine grace.
Omnia didn't hurry.
She never had to.
But the people were alive. Too alive.
The Royal Player's Ball had fallen into that strange after-battle fever where everybody wanted to talk to the person who kicked the most ass. Glasses lifted. Fans opened. Perfume mixed with wine, sweat, roasted meat, healing mana, and the lingering burnt-air smell of Electric Mana. The nobles tried to look composed, but I could see the energy crawling under their skin. Combat fumes and unlimited alcohol had turned half the room into professional opportunists with shaky self-control.
Omnia saw the moment the guests decided it was good to approach me again and went to cut 'em off.
Velonican nobles drifted toward me with compliments, investment schemes, family introductions, marriage suggestions, and fake laughter polished by generations of practice. One baroness adjusted her neckline before introducing a "promising niece." A merchant lord looked ready to ask about portal infrastructure. A minor elder had tax favors written all over his smile. And a Nox cousin who was not Jennifer stared at my shoulders like House Nox had sent her from the Department of Bad Ideas.
It was genuinely overstimulating.
I could still hear the crowd, but the edges of every voice were starting to smear. Compliments bounced off each other. Laughter came too sharply. The cologne got too thick. The lantern light reflected too brightly off jewelry, wine glasses, and polished horn tips. Everybody wanted a little piece of the moment. A word. A handshake. A private promise. A smile they could later exaggerate into an alliance. I had just finished a duel, healed the man I beat, and somehow the room decided that meant I was available for networking.
That was when Omnia finally made it to me as I left the Kurozumi clan behind me.
Her hand touched my chest first.
Gentle. Possessive. Warm enough to cut through the noise.
Then she kissed me.
Not some polite little queenly peck either. Omnia stepped into my space, lifted her face, and pressed her lips to mine with calm ownership. The scent of jasmine, vanilla, and soft waters wrapped around me, stronger than the wine and body sweat in the room. Her fingers rested against the silver trim of my bioarmor like she was reminding everyone that the Midnight King had a wife, and a very dangerous handler who knew when to block social traffic.
That instantly stopped half the room from approaching me.
Beautiful. Efficient.
Clutch, really.
When she pulled back, her cyan eyes held mine with warmth that softened the tightness behind my ribs.
"Congratulations, my king. To think that you're even more frightening when you're holding back."
"I couldn't get beat up at my own party, now could I?"
I smiled after the joke, but Omnia instantly noticed the fatigue behind it.
My mouth curved right. My tone stayed playful. My posture remained kingly enough for the room. But she saw the weight sitting under it. The faint drag around my eyes. The way my shoulders held themselves was a little too carefully. The way my breathing had deepened after the fight, not because my body was tired, but because something inside me had gotten heavier.
Omnia looked around to see the nobles still swarming and decided, nawl.
Her expression became smoother.
More regal. More dangerous.
With calm authority, she ordered the servants to bring out the additional desserts and wines.
She didn't yell. Didn't snap. Didn't make the room feel scolded. She simply lifted one hand, and nearby servants moved like the castle itself had tugged their strings. Trays began flowing from the side corridors and kitchen doors, carried by attendants in clean formal uniforms. The smell of fresh sweets rolled into the Grand Hall in warm layers: honey-glazed pastries, berry tarts, cream-filled cakes, cinnamon-spiced breads, candied fruit, chocolate-dark sauces made from Gaia cocoa, and chilled custards that shimmered under soft Ice Mana sigils. Wine bottles followed, Braye labels, Velonican reserves, fruit liquors, and sparkling nectar drinks that caught lantern light in ruby, amber, and violet hues.
That was also the cue for the bard Karma Nova had hired to finally take his position with a lute.
To my surprise, the bard was Jawz Eight.
The Half-Ogre.
That big dude stepped onto the small performance platform near the edge of the ballroom with his lute strapped across his broad body like somebody had armed a tank with a love song. He looked nervous for half a second, which was strange because Jawz had enough muscle to make most men reconsider arguing with doors. His side-horns caught the silver-blue lantern light, and his thick fingers rested carefully over the strings like he was reminding himself that music required tenderness, not grip strength.
I remembered promising him I would give him a chance to take him on as a student.
Seeing him here told me Karma had either planned this quietly or bullied destiny into cooperating.
Probably both.
Jawz settled his stance, took one breath, and began to play.
The first notes were cautious, then warmer. His lute rhythm carried the bounce of the earlier Hip-Hop I had been playing through the speakers, but he softened it with a soulful R&B groove. The other musicians hired to assist caught on to his cue quickly. A hand drum came in with a mellow pocket. A small string instrument followed with smooth accents. A flute-like mana pipe added a breathy line that curled through the hall like smoke under a nightlight. The magitech speakers lowered to support the live sound instead of overpowering it, letting Jawz guide the mood.
Not bad at all.
My man had flavor. The groove didn't fix the weight in my chest, but it gave the room something softer to hold onto.
Dessert trays appeared. The wine got flowing. Many of the guests who wanted to bother me all of a sudden remembered free food and liquor.
Truly, Gaia's most reliable crowd-control spell.
A noblewoman who had been two steps away from asking me about her daughter suddenly turned her head toward a plate of honeyed cream cakes like salvation had arrived on porcelain. The merchant lord with portal questions saw a servant uncorking Braye wine and drifted away with a new sense of purpose. A cluster of clan cousins redirected themselves toward the dessert table with no shame. People liked power, but they loved free sweets.
Omnia turned back to me with a subtle smile and warmth in her cyan eyes.
"I'll handle the Ball for a while."
"You're a lifesaver, baby."
"Only because I plan to drain that life out of you, later."
"Altruistic selfishness. I like it."
Her smile turned lewd at the edges, but her eyes stayed soft.
That was Omnia's secret sauce. Ten out of ten, would reincarnate again if necessary.
While the party got moving again, something dropped within me. Not pain. Not damage. A weight. Like gravity found a private room inside my chest and squatted. The feeling slid down through my Soul Core, dense and slow. My thoughts didn't scatter, but they thickened. The air didn't get harder to breathe, but each inhale felt like I had to remind my body what it was for. A slowing debuff hit me out of nowhere, except there was no System alert, no enemy pressure, no active curse, no poison sting, no trace of hostile intent.
My fingers flexed once against my palm before I realized I had stopped moving.
Instantly, the sounds of the party dulled around the edges.
Jawz's lute still played. People still laughed. Wine still poured. The servants still moved. But everything felt a hallway away. The lights above softened just enough to annoy me all of a sudden. The lanterns were not too bright or too dim, but my senses decided they were wrong anyway. My body still moved, but it felt like a fraction. Much slower. Much heavier. Like my spirit ate too much and forgot how to stand.
That was an instant red flag.
I wasn't someone who normally got tired.
I had personal Skills that prevented that. My body had too many unfair settings turned on. Stamina issues weren't supposed to pull up to my address. Even after fights, my regeneration, mana flow, and soul mechanics usually cleaned up the mess before fatigue got a chance to speak. Yet there I stood, smiling at a party I hosted, feeling like the weight of the moon had found a chair inside my ribs.
"Tsukuyomi, check my body. Something don't feel right."
Barely took two seconds before [Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi] was back with the results.
"Results show a healthy body. No poison. No curses or hexes. No hostile mana residue. No internal damage. No stamina or mana depletion. No known affliction."
"Then why does it feel like I devoured a whole city?"
"I'm unable to provide an answer at this time, Master."
I think that bothered me more than the idea of the weight within me. [Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi] not knowing felt wrong.
That nigga could explain the math behind a bullshit miracle while building three spells and judging my posture. Hearing him say he didn't have an answer made the heaviness inside me feel less like exhaustion and more like a locked door I didn't remember installing.
Omnia's voice brought me back to material reality as she listened in on my thoughts.
"Is there anything I can do to help you, Master?"
I looked down at her and forced my smile to stay light.
"I just need a moment to catch my thoughts. I think my social battery is dying, so I'mma step out for a breath of air real quick."
"Understood. I will return to the Three Twilights and let them handle the floor while you take a smoke break."
"You're the greatest woman, ever."
"I know."
With a lewd smile, Omnia gave me one more kiss.
This one was softer than the first. Less public claim, more private comfort. Her lips tasted sweet, a hint of fruit and vanilla riding beneath the warmth. Her hand lingered on my chest for a second after she pulled away, like she was checking whether my soul had gotten any lighter from the touch.
"Don't disappear for too long."
"If I did, I'm sure you would come to find me."
"I'm glad we have an understanding, my Moonlight."
As she backed up from me to divide herself back into Kyttin Luna, Chomei Sol, and Karma Nova, I couldn't help but appreciate my lil' scheming cosmic manipulator.
She may have had a weird reason for bringing me into my current life, and the word "weird" was doing a lot of lifting in that sentence. But she was a part of my life I couldn't see my future without. Omnia was chaos with devotion. Death with affection. The woman of my dreams, if I'm being honest.
Ultramarine and indigo light bloomed from her body.
The glow spread across her skin, dress, hair, and eyes, turning her into a silhouette wrapped in twilight fire. Her form softened into spiritons, unraveling into a large orb that hovered above the marble for one breath. Then the orb split into three streams.
Red.
Blue.
Black-violet.
Each ribbon spun outward with elegant precision, painting arcs of light in the air before bodies formed from the radiance.
Kyttin Luna returned first in warm crimson and silver, twin tails swaying behind her, red locs with black tips spilling like a fire crown. Chomei Sol followed in cerulean light, crystalline wings fluttering softly as her glasses appeared on her face with perfect timing. Karma Nova poured into place last, black-violet starlight wrapping around four arms, and that wicked little smile like temptation had just clocked back in.
As the Three Twilights returned, Kyttin gave me one more "come to mommy" hug.
No warning. No mercy.
She stepped in, wrapped her arms around me, and pulled my face directly into those huge mommy milkers of hers. It was ridiculously tight, warm, and somehow comforting in the exact best-wrong way.
The warmth hit first. Then softness. Then that familiar Kyttin scent of spice, sweetness, and jasmine. My entire face disappeared into cleavage with the kind of suddenness that made a king question his own security measures. Her tails curled around my back, and her purr vibrated against my forehead like she was trying to comfort me through suffocation.
"My poor baby."
I would have responded, but my mouth had entered a sacred place, and communication was not allowed.
Karma couldn't fight off the temptation of stealing another kiss.
The Noir Empress slid in the moment the Red Queen released me, all four arms moving with shameless efficiency. Two hands caught my jacket. One touched my cheek. The fourth somehow found the back of my neck. Her lips pressed against mine with hot, possessive affection, just long enough to make my brain remember several plans we were supposed to have later.
Then Chomei took the "grab him on the booty" route.
The Blue Queen drifted behind me with a smile too sweet to trust. Her hand landed on my ass with a firm squeeze that made my whole body twitch. She adjusted her glasses afterward, as if she had conducted important research.
It all happened so fast, back-to-back, that they left me there a bit stun-locked while they walked off giggling.
I blinked once.
Then twice.
I had won a public duel and cooled political pressure from East Velonica, only to get combo'd by my own women in front of half the Ball.
Honestly, fair. I would do the same in their place. The weight didn't leave, but it shifted enough for me to breathe around it.
Kyttin went toward the dessert tables, making sure guests were fed and that her and my favorite dishes were protected from greedy nobles. I saw her intercept one older man reaching too eagerly for a covered plate, smiling sweetly enough to make his hand reconsider its future. Chomei drifted toward Danica and Akai, her wings catching the lantern glow as Danica told her she was glad big bro Xiro got the real party started. Karma moved toward Victorya, intercepting other people who looked like they were trying to reach me, redirecting them with conversation or fear, depending on what their faces deserved.
Before I could make it out to the courtyard, the Wolfpak intercepted me.
My niggas rolled up with the hype. Luda came in calm but smiling, that warmth sitting in his eyes. Alex looked amused and still slightly drained from Danica's earlier operations. Steez had his chill smirk on, but the pride was obvious. Swamp looked like he had been waiting for this exact moment to start yelling again. Cali, Raion, and the others gathered close enough that, for a second, the noise of the nobles faded behind something familiar.
They hyped me and dapped me up one after another.
Hands slapped. Fists bumped. Shoulders got grabbed. Laughter circled us like smoke. Each of them had a cheery smile on their face, even the too-cool pair of Steez and Luda.
Luda's hand clasped mine before pulling me into a one-arm bro hug.
"I knew you wouldn't go too long without punching someone."
Steez pointed at Luda with his cup.
"I'm glad I didn't take that bet."
"It honestly wasn't my plan. But he begged me for it."
Swamp stepped in with a grin bright enough to qualify as indoor lighting.
"Xiro, my man, this has been the best party I've ever been to. Thank you for the invite."
"No problem. I'm glad you could join us. I know it's been a while since you've seen L."
Swamp glanced over at Luda, his smile softening just a bit.
"Yeah, bro is a lot more relaxed now than he was as a kid. He used to carry the world on his shoulders."
"He still does. He's just a lot stronger now."
Luda's eyes slid toward me, gratitude tucked behind that calm expression.
Swamp nodded like he accepted that, then looked around the Grand Hall as another wave of laughter lifted from the dessert tables.
"True. I gotta say, again, you're quite the party thrower. Normally, shit like this is deadly boring. But you're a man who knows good entertainment, and fine beauty."
"Hahaha. I remember when I was a horny teenager like you. But you just wait til the After Party. That's where the real fun happens for all the perverts lurking under false bougie masks."
Steez's smirk sharpened.
"I knew you had something plotted. Chomei kept saying it was a secret."
Cali studied my face while the others laughed.
His eyes narrowed behind his glasses, and his voice came calmer than the rest of the group.
"Honestly, you look too tired to keep partying."
Alex's amusement faded a little as he looked me over.
"Now that you mention it, I don't think I remember the last time Xiro ever looked as exhausted as he does now."
Luda's eyes sharpened immediately.
"Don't tell me those little punches the prince landed did some lasting damage."
"Nawl. I might just be getting old."
Steez looked at me like I had just said the dumbest thing in two kingdoms.
"Nigga, you're like 20. You'll be 21 later this year. That's not old."
"Maybe I should have said older."
Raion blinked, glancing between me, Cali, and the rest of the circle.
"I didn't know he was two years older than me and Cali."
Cali gave a small shrug, tone dry.
"I know. You would think he was an older man by the presence he gives off."
"I can't tell if y'all are complimenting me or insulting me."
Luda smiled.
"Might be a little bit of both, my brother."
Suddenly, Roxy pulled up behind Luda, poking her head into the circle to speak to me.
She had that Meridian Goddess brightness around her, all heat, confidence, and mischief. Her eyes carried amusement as she leaned near Luda's shoulder, clearly having heard enough to enter the conversation with maximum timing.
"You know, Xi, you should stop picking on weak people."
She said it with a chuckle.
"It must be my face. I think I look punchable or something."
Alex folded his arms, his expression turning more serious.
"Honestly, it seems like the weaker people are starting the problems. Beau's bitch ass deserved that."
Steez nodded without hesitation.
"We should have killed him. But I get that you didn't want to mess the party up."
Luda's voice stayed measured, but the edge was there.
"That was the best choice. No need to fuck up the vibes for something we can always do another day."
That was tha homies.
Practical. Sometime calm.
Willing to schedule murder for later without blinking an eye.
Roxy turned her smile toward him.
"Master Allegretto, follow me for a moment. There is someone cute I want you to meet."
Luda frowned slightly, already suspicious because "someone cute" at this Ball could mean anything from a future bride to a political trap wearing lip gloss.
"Cute? I don't get... I'll catch up with you fellas a little later."
Almost like it was an executed play, Swamp, Alex, Steez, and Cali each got approached by a collection of Nox women.
And I mean executed.
Timed. Coordinated.
Very fucking Professional.
One moment, the Wolfpak circle was intact. The next, silk and perfume slipped between us like the Nox Clan had studied battlefield formations and applied them to courtship. A gorgeous Nox woman took Swamp by the hand, laughing at something he didn't even finish saying. Karyna slid up beside Alex with a smile that made Danica's distant aura twitch somewhere in the room. Steez got caught by a woman with soft eyes and a phat ass who leaned close enough to whisper something that made him grin. Cali, for all his quiet menace, found his wrist gently claimed by a Nox beauty who looked like she specialized in making serious men reconsider scheduling.
They were all led into the crowd by beautiful women before disappearing into the sea of moving bodies.
I watched it happen with the tired awe of a man witnessing a military operation disguised as flirting.
Raion watched it all, then looked at me and shook his head. He patted me on the shoulder. No words. None needed.
His face said, Your party is insane, your people are worse, and somehow this is your fault.
Without a noise, he turned to rejoin Akai, leaving me to my own again.
The path to the courtyard was open. The music carried behind me. The desserts and wine pulled the nobles back into motion.
And me?
I finally had a chance to breathe.
Before I could fully step outside the doorway and taste the night air, I was approached one last time.
Of course.
Because apparently, my path to peace had a line at the door.
Cierra Chandra and Stamps looked terrified. The blue-haired Dark Elf and brunette Sky Celestial bowed like they were trying to fold themselves into smaller targets. Cierra's wings stayed tucked tight behind her loose coat, and her square glasses sat low over sharp red eyes. The confident crash-the-party energy from earlier had been beaten out of the air around her by watching Beau get humiliated and Gaijin get folded with a life lesson attached.
Stamps had it worse.
The poor man's eyes kept shifting from my face to the courtyard door behind me, then back to Cierra, like he wanted to support her but also wanted to live long enough to complain about this plan later. His blue hair caught the lantern light in small cool highlights, and his hands stayed clasped in front of him with a grip that said prayer had become a physical activity.
Cierra lifted her head just enough to speak without fully rising from her bow.
"Thank you, again, Your Majesty. The Chandra will never forget this."
"Don't let your clan down."
My voice came calmer than I felt, and that probably made it worse for her. A loud king gave you something to react to. A quiet king made you wonder which thoughts were about to become a nightmare.
I swiftly pointed toward Ma Dukes, who was speaking with Glynis.
Billie stood near one of the side tables, dressed with elegant restraint, her crimson presence stronger than Vericka's but no less warming. Glynis had her arms crossed and one brow raised while listening to something from a clan elder who looked like he had chosen every word carefully. Those two women were not just family. They were history. Judgment. Memory wearing a dress.
Then I pointed over to Vericka speaking with Grandma Fann and Uncle Charles.
Mom looked calmer now, but not relaxed. Her hazel-green eyes moved through conversations like blades wrapped in velvet. Grandma Fann stood beside her, small but absolute, carrying the kind of old power that made people remember manners they had never been taught. Uncle Charles looked comfortable as hell, like he was enjoying the party without missing a single political shift around him.
"If the Chandra wants that forgiveness, remember it starts with the women y'all betrayed."
Cierra swallowed.
"I understand, sire."
With a final nod, she and Stamps rushed off toward Mom and Ma Dukes with the energy of two people walking into a boss room without potions.
I didn't care.
I had enough problems to worry about. I was too busy trying to figure out why my soul felt like it had swallowed a moon and forgot to chew.
Stepping outside was the refreshing slap that I needed.
The courtyard's night air hit my face with cool mercy, brushing over my skin and slipping down my collar like the world had finally cracked a window. It didn't lessen the weight I was feeling, but it cut through the stuffiness of the Grand Hall. No perfume cloud. No wine breath. No nobles pressing smiles into my space. Just clean air, faint flower scents from the courtyard gardens, wet stone cooling beneath moonlight, and the distant bite of night.
Out on the courtyard patio, the party sounds became muffled behind Castle Midnight's walls.
A few tunes leaked through the doors in soft pulses, the bass softened by black stone until it felt more like memory than music. Laughter reached me in broken pieces. Glasses clinked somewhere inside. A woman's bright laugh rose, then got swallowed by the closed doors. The whole Ball felt suddenly far away, like I had stepped out of a painting while the people inside kept dancing.
The three moons hung high over Talasi.
Their light painted the courtyard in layered silver, pale blue, and a faint lavender tint that made every shadow look expensive. Paper lanterns lined the rails, each one glowing with soft golden Fire Mana that barely flickered in the breeze. Their paper sides were painted with crescent moons, raven silhouettes, and simple floral patterns. Kyttin probably picked. The sky ring of Gaia stretched above everything, bright with countless sparkles, a broken heavenly halo wrapping across the night. Stars glittered through and around it, some sharp, some soft, some hidden behind drifting night clouds.
It was a relaxing sight.
That was when I noticed an owl perched on a nearby rail.
A pharaoh eagle-owl.
The bird sat perfectly still, sandy-brown feathers mottled with darker markings, ear tufts raised like it had been offended before I arrived. Its orange-yellow eyes caught the lantern light and reflected back something ancient and judgmental. Owls always looked like they knew your business and disapproved of your spending habits. This one stared at me once, blinked slowly, then spread its wings.
Silent as a secret, it flew off into the night sky.
The feathers barely made a sound as it crossed over the courtyard, slipping between moonlight and shadow before disappearing above the outer wall.
"I always thought those kinds of owls were native to the Holy Lands or something. He was far from home, I guess."
I didn't give it another thought.
I should have, probably.
I pulled out a joint rolled with Elysian Trees.
That bitch was disrespectful.
Thick, clean, perfectly packed, with purple-green flower pressed inside enchanted hemp paper that shimmered faintly with leftover mana dust. It smelled musty, sweet, floral, and earthy. A snap of my fingers produced a small tongue of Fire Mana at the tip, yellow-orange flame licking across the paper until the joint sparked to life.
The first drag hit my lungs like a welcoming poison.
Hot smoke rolled in heavy and smooth, scratching just enough to remind me I was alive before melting into sweetness. Elysian Trees carried this deep floral taste with a sticky herbal back end, and the mana in it spread through my chest like warm hands loosening knots from the inside. I held it for a second, then exhaled toward the sky. Smoke curled from my lips in slow silver-gray ribbons, catching moonlight until it looked like I was breathing out little ghosts.
[Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi] spoke with his usual calm precision.
"Deactivating [Toxic Nullification] once more."
I can't front for a moment; it felt good being alone.
Nobody needed me.
Nobody was judging my actions.
No questions.
No titles.
No women asking for attention.
Just me and the night sky.
The courtyard rail was cool beneath my forearms when I leaned against it. The stone had that evening chill, damp from the passing breezes. Below, the castle grounds stretched in trimmed paths, moonlit hedges, and black iron lantern posts glowing faint violet. The portal staging circles from earlier sat dormant across the courtyard stones, no longer opening roads for strangers, just quiet symbols carved into the floor.
I got about a good seven minutes to myself before I was found by Luvina Puff and Zawa Moon.
Seven minutes.
That was apparently the maximum allowed peace my life subscription included.
Zawa came first, floating into view with bright eyes and that pretty pale face carrying way too much excitement for someone stepping into another person's smoke break. Her energy had started showing similar clinginess to Karma, but in a different lane. The Lilituu treated me like her prized drink machine, often talking to my crotch as if the rest of my body didn't matter. Besides that, she wasn't much of a problem. Usually more playful than Danica, which was saying something since Danica had turned Alex into a halftime Gatorade bottle earlier.
Luvina was the one I had to keep my eyes on.
The Umdori walked beside Zawa with a glass in hand, her bioluminescent patterns sliding across her skin in soft pulses of color beneath the courtyard lanterns. Outside, her glow looked even better, brighter against the darker air. She swayed with the kind of confidence that told me she knew exactly how much trouble she was in and had no interest in applying for reform. Her black-lined glossy lips curved before she even reached me.
Zawa pointed at me immediately.
"There he goes! Master Xiro, you were awesome as usual. You made my nipples hard."
Luvina lifted her glass with a polished little smile.
"Lord Xiro, congratulations on such a successful gathering. I'm happy to see that you kicked Beau from the party."
I instantly shot her a sharp side eye.
"You... Luvina, understand me clearly. You are not allowed to use your Sonata Skill during my events without my command."
For once, Luvina's smile dipped.
Not far. Just enough to pretend obedience had entered the room.
"...Yes, sir."
I hit the joint once more before handing it to Luvina and leaning a bit on the rail in front of me.
She took the joint between two elegant fingers, and I saw a flash of her bioluminescent lights race across her skin. Blue, pink, and green shimmered along her wrist, up her arm, and across her collarbone like her body had gotten excited before her mouth could lie about it. She didn't look offended. Opposite, actually. A touch of excitement sat in her eyes and at the corner of her mouth. She enjoyed my reaction and tone.
Figures.
Some women responded to scolding with accountability.
Luvina responded like I had whispered date plans.
She took a small drag and exhaled slowly, smoke slipping between those shiny lips in a delicate cloud.
"Just so you know, I only made the bad air loud enough for everyone to stop pretending it smelled sweet."
"If you keep acting badly, I will spank you later."
Luvina's smile turned openly wicked.
"Promises, promises. I didn't wear any panties in hopes that you do."
Zawa leaned close with immediate betrayal in her voice.
"You never like to wear panties, Luv."
Luvina's eyes flicked toward her.
"Shhhhh, Zawa."
Her devious smile only made me sigh.
"You'd better keep that same energy later tonight."
Zawa took the joint from Luvina, and the conversation topics floated around for a bit.
The smoke passed between us with a lazy rhythm. Zawa held it like she was handling a sacred object, took a hit way too deep, then released a pleased little hum as the Elysian Trees settled into her body. Luvina sipped from her glass, the dark wine inside catching the lantern glow. The three moons watched us from above while the party kept pulsing behind the wall. For a few minutes, nothing heavy came out of anyone's mouth, and I appreciated that more than I said.
It didn't take Zawa long before she brought up Gaijin and his bloodline.
"So, Master Xiro, do you like beating up Headtrip's family or something? I heard the Oni used to have Horn Wars. Is that what's happening?"
"I honestly didn't plan for any of that. If anything, the Shirasagi seem to have it out for me, no matter where I am."
Luvina passed the glass between her hands, eyes half-lidded with old annoyance.
"Headtrip was annoying and pretentious. Outside of killing, I saw no real value in his existence. I heard you punched him out of the Sycamore Tree."
"That was my body reacting. He approached me too fast."
Zawa waved a hand lazily.
"I was too busy to notice."
Luvina glanced at her with a sly smile.
"You mean your mouth was busy gobbling a dick."
Zawa nodded like that was the most normal clarification in the world.
"That's what I said."
I ignored them both.
"Still, I didn't expect that the Kurozumi and Shirasagi would have a connection together with royal kids."
Zawa exhaled a thin stream of smoke, her eyes lifting toward the sky ring as if she was browsing through memory.
"I mean, that's where Headtrip is from. All Oni originated from the Velonicas, but Headtrip moved his clan to the Holy Lands."
"I'm sure I'll run into Headtrip again when I go there for the tournament."
Zawa laughed as she passed the joint back to me.
"The Kurozumi boy's father was Headtrip's brother. Headtrip said that the kid and his brother were both killed. Guess he was wrong about that. Now the boy is carrying the ghost of a clan that never wanted him."
That hit a little heavier than expected.
The smoke sat in my fingers for a moment before I lifted it back to my lips. I thought about Gaijin on the floor, blood on his mouth, telling me his father died protecting him. Thought about Frost's eyes. Thought about Beau's humiliation. Thought about Cierra begging on the marble. Thought about a whole world of people walking around with inherited wounds and calling them tradition because it sounded cleaner.
"Gaia has a lot of people walking around with ghosts they didn't ask for. It seems to be a motif or something stupid like that."
Everyone went quiet for six seconds.
Suddenly, Zawa burst into laughter.
"Hahahaha. I actually got that joke."
Luvina remained quiet.
No joke from her that time.
She only studied me as she sipped from her glass. The courtyard lanterns painted her face in warm gold and soft shadow, and the glow under her skin moved more slowly now, less playful. Her eyes searched my expression with more care than usual. Luvina Puff was a menace, sure, but she wasn't shallow. She knew when a joke had a bruise under it.
They remained with me until we finished the joint, with them both looking a lot more relaxed than when they stepped outside.
Zawa's shoulders had loosened, and her smile had gone floaty in that pleasant weed way. Luvina's dangerous glow settled into something softer, though the mischief never fully left her lips. When they finally returned inside, the courtyard felt larger without them. The music leaked through the door for a second as they opened it, laughter and warmth spilling out behind them before the doors closed again.
I couldn't help but reflect on the Ball so far.
The women.
The whispers.
The way people looked at me after the fight.
Having so many women wanting me sounded like a dream on paper. And I wasn't gon' lie, part of it was. A big part. A thick, perfumed, well-dressed part with thighs and bad intentions. But in practice, that shit was a bit draining. Attraction had weight when it came from every angle. Everybody wanted eye contact. A smile. A flirt. A chance. A promise. Some women wanted politics. Some wanted pleasure. Some wanted both and had enough ass and titties to make it everybody's problem.
And that was before the sexual offers.
[Midnight Star: Belial] did not like the thought of me not indulging in the sea of bad bitches.
"I know you're not complaining about being desired."
"Hahaha, relax, fool. I appreciate the attention from the women. I was just thinking about how much energy dealing with so many women could take."
"Why does that matter to us? We have limitless mana and stamina?"
I couldn't help but laugh out loud. He wasn't trying to hear nothing I was saying.
[Midnight Star: Belial] understood power, hunger, pride, and indulgence. The emotional logistics of managing dozens of people's desires without turning your life into a nightclub with taxes did not interest that demon one bit. In his mind, if the buffet was open, complaining about plate weight was disrespectful to the chef. The laugh helped my mood a little. Almost felt like the weight was lifted.
Almost.
But the cold that rolled in didn't give me enough time to enjoy it.
The courtyard temperature dropped. Not all at once.
It crept in low first, crawling along the stone floor like a pale animal with no bones. A mist of ice waved over my shins and shoes, thin and silver, brushing the cuffs of my formal bioarmor before spreading around the rail posts. Frost crystals formed along the edge of the patio stones in jagged little blooms. The paper lantern flames flickered blue, then steadied, their golden light now trembling against the chill.
The air sharpened enough to sting the inside of my nose.
My breath turned visible.
The joint's last ember dimmed under the cold, smoke twisting strangely as if it wanted to flee back toward heat.
Frost arrived the same way his aura did.
Cold before contact.
Distance before conversation.
That aura of his had a chill that was present but not pressuring. He wasn't attacking. Wasn't flaring. Wasn't trying to freeze the courtyard solid or make a dramatic entrance. But his presence made the night feel less friendly. The music behind the castle walls became even farther away, like the warmth inside had been sealed behind another world.
Frost stepped out of the shadowed edge of the courtyard. He didn't dress up.
Of course, he didn't.
Instead, he wore a Death's Mask and a fur-collared trench coat that looked like ice spikes. The coat's collar rose around his neck in jagged white fur, each strand tipped with frost that glittered beneath the moonlight. The rest of the trench was dark, heavy, and armored with frozen ridges that resembled layered icicles shaped into fashion by someone allergic to joy. His Death's Mask covered his face with that pale, eerie stillness, empty enough to make every emotion behind it feel like a guess. Silver eyes stared from behind it, cold and sharp as frozen blades left outside too long.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
The three moons hung above us.
The sky ring glittered.
The paper lanterns swayed in the cold.
The music felt far away, as if only he and I remained on the planet.
He stopped several feet away from me, not too close, not too distant. That annoyed me too. Even his spacing felt deliberate. Like he was trying to talk without looking like he cared. Like he wanted a private conversation but didn't want to stand within reach of the son he had already rejected.
"I'm not looking to cause a problem right now. I just want to talk to you. Just the two of us."
I couldn't stop myself from exhaling through my nose with a fatigued annoyance as I looked at him. The breath smoked between us, white and brief, disappearing into his cold air. I was sure that whatever he was about to say was going to be some bullshit or piss me off.
Bonus points if it was both.
[End of Chapter]
[1] May on Earth.