The Bright Lord was the most powerful Sleeper on the Forgotten Shore, unmatched by any who dared to stand against him. His golden Echo granted him inhuman strength, while his mind attack alone had brought the entire population of the Dark City to their knees.
It didn't matter whether he relied on his Echo or his own strength, the fact remained: clad in his golden armor, Gunlaug was, without a worm of doubt, the strongest.
This was the tyrant who reigned at the peak. And yet, he was also the man whom the Blood Son of Heaven had chosen as his prey, the man Medici would bring down to claim the throne of the Bright Castle, to reign absolute over the Dark City.
For this man, in time, would become the Blood Emperor, the embodiment of apocalypse.
His name was Medici… the Red Priest, The Ruler of Chaos and Strife.
And now, here in the radiant hall blazing with golden light, stood the moment of truth. Would the Blood Son of Heaven stain that brilliance crimson, drowning the Bright Lord's glory in a tide of Red?
That remained to be seen. But the confidence with which Medici stepped forward; the wild, burning certainty that radiated from him was enough to make even the Bright Lord's most loyal warriors falter. Doubt, once seeded, began to gnaw at them from within.
Medici's gaze swept over the Sleepers. His eyes blazed with crimson light, pupils narrowing as a feral grin stretched across his face.
At the same time, Gunlaug, the golden demon, threw back his head and let out booming laughter, spreading his arms wide in arrogant display of strength.
The Hunter versus the Warrior.
The Emperor versus the King.
The Blood Son of Heaven versus the Bright Lord.
And thus began the battle that would decide the fate of the Forgotten Shore.
Two ambitious fighter faced each other beneath the watchful eyes of the gathered Sleepers. For this moment, they were without a master. Soon… either their old lord would return, or a new one would rise.
With a roar, Gunlaug's armor conjured a massive axe, gleaming with golden light. Medici met it head-on, Zenith Shard raised. The impact cracked through the air like thunder, sparks flying as he redirected the crushing strike. His obsidian gauntlet flared, first with fiery yellow embers, then with searing flames.
He countered, his blazing fist slamming into Gunlaug's radiant armor. The Bright Lord staggered back a step, clutching his helmeted head and laughed, a sound so mad it made even the strongest Sleepers shiver.
Medici only grinned wider, unfazed by the mental assault crashing down on his mind. With a sweep of his hand, he unleashed a murder of fire-ravens, each striking the Bright Lord in a storm of flame. But they were no more than a smokescreen.
Through the blaze, Medici slipped behind his enemy. His eyes widened, adrenaline surging, every vein alight. In his grasp, fire twisted into shape, yellow flames hardened and enveloped a spear, burning hotter, brighter, until it blazed with white light.
The air in the hall ignited, heat rolling like a furnace. With a guttural roar, Medici drove his weapon forward.
The spear pierced where no blade had before. The unbreakable golden armor screamed, denting under the strike. For the first time, the untouchable Bright Lord had been wounded.
The Zenith Shard burned brighter than ever before. Augmented by Medici's flames, refined through the Uniqueness of the Red Priest Pathway, and blessed by the crown on Luna's head… it transcended its limits. What had once been a formidable Memory now stood as something greater... A Semi-Transcendent weapon.
And with it, the Hunter drew first blood.
The spear tore into the Bright Lord's golden bulwark. For the first time, the unbreakable had been broken. The impossible had been made real.
A single drop of blood fell... then another. Dripping across Medici's cheek, trailing down to his lips, painting his face in crimson.
Gunlaug roared, his voice reverberating through the golden hall, a sound that shook every Sleeper to their core.
And yet... Medici only laughed. His expression split wide grin, deranged and ecstatic. He looked less like a man, more like a predator who had finally tasted the flesh of his prey.
He leaned casually against his bloodstained banner, arms crossed, and spoke with scorn.
"Get up…"
The words echoed like a decree.
The Bright Lord raised his head. Even through the gleaming mask of gold, the wrath of Gunlaug was unmistakable. His fury was palpable, suffocating and oppressive.
Medici tilted his head, smirk curling higher.
"Don't make me wait. I don't want a dirty win. I'll crush you fair and square, so there's no excuse left standing."
He laughed, the sound sharp, ringing with wrath and madness.
"That's it. That's the spirit! Stand tall. Come at me with everything you've got. You underestimated me once… so here's your second chance."
The Hunter's crimson gaze blazed with fervor, his grin feral.
"Show me your worst, punk."
The Bright Lord rose once more.
But as he stood, his vision wavered. Not the hall. Not the Sleeper throng. What he saw was a memory he had long since buried, one that clawed its way back, unbidden.
The departed spirit of the Second Lord.
The man who had once defied the tide of nightmare creatures… and nearly prevailed.
Arrogance. Certainty. The wild gaze of someone who believed themselves untouchable.
All of it stood before him again.
This time, wearing crimson hair and a feral grin.
This time, in the form of Medici.
"You'll pay for this… bastard."
The Bright Lord's voice rumbled with fury.
But Medici only flexed his hands, fire erupting with every motion. His words cut through the silence like sacrilege:
"Only thing I'm afraid to pay is… child support. Hahaha!"
The words echoed through the golden hall, dripping with venomous mockery. It was not the Sleeper horde that laughed. Not Nephis. Not Luna. Not even Gunlaug himself.
It was only the Priest of War.
But did that matter?
No. It mattered not.
Because in this moment, only one voice carried weight.
Only one man's opinion would shape what followed.
And that man had already declared his law:
All who opposed him would be burned to ash.
***
At that moment, Nephis's eyes locked onto the Dawn Shard crowning Luna's head.
For the first time, disbelief cracked through the marble mask of Changing Star.
And it did not end there. Medici's hands gripped the Zenith Shard, flames crawling across its length.
The truth was undeniable.
The stolen memories, the Shards, had been in their hands all along.
A dark smile spread across Nephis's face. Her voice cut like steel.
"So that's how it is… revenge. I never thought you would sink this low, Luna. Preaching like a saint while being nothing but a thief... how hypocritical."
But Luna's expression didn't falter. She met Nephis's venom with a calm, almost mocking smile.
"It wasn't me who stole them."
"Then who?" Nephis demanded, her voice sharpened to a command.
Luna answered not with words, but with a gesture. Her middle finger rose, dismissive and brutal, and her voice followed: spiteful, scornful and lethal.
"As if a braindead bitch like you needs to know, hah."
The insult struck deeper than any blade.
Nephis's teeth ground together as she drew the Dream Blade, starlight legion armour gleaming under the mad, crimson fire of Medici's duel with the Bright Lord.
And Luna… Luna simply raised her arms, the flesh splitting, bones elongating, blood hardening into twin blades of living malice.
And then, the future Queen of Humanity, the savior whose fate had been stolen, clashed with the one who might one day be remembered as the Great Mother.
Sword met flesh and sparks lit the air. Luna's body twisted like liquid, the flesh reshaping into a cruel hook. She caught the Dream Blade and yanked Nephis forward, then snapped back, boots driving into Changing Star's face and blasting her back with monstrous might.
From above, Luna's eyes glimmered with spirituality. Every heartbeat, every weakness and every opening was hers to see. She cast down a storm of flesh bombs and they exploded in mid-air, raining a tide of corrosive blood.
Nephis's scream tore through the hall as the vile rain devoured her ivory skin. White flames surged to life, soul fire burning the corruption away but that moment of cleansing was enough.
Luna was gone.
Had she fled? Escaped? Wait a second... No, What's that!?
The floor split beneath Nephis. A deformed, monstrous hand gripped her leg and a slash tore across her abdomen. She hissed, wounds knitting back together as her blade plunged into Luna's stomach.
But Luna only grimaced. Her arm drove through Nephis's flesh, and from within, a bomb bloomed.
Nephis's body erupted. Blood and entrails spilled across the hall. Half of Changing Star's form melted into sludge, soul fire fighting desperately to rebuild what was lost.
And still, Luna pressed. She did not wait. She did not allow recovery. She tore Nephis apart piece by piece, the spite of the Hanged Man laid bare for all to see.
Nephis's screams shook the walls. White flames devoured Luna in return, searing her warped flesh, forcing regeneration after regeneration.
It was a battle of immortals. Of two who refused to yield.
And yet, the sight of her own flesh being ripped from her body, chewed and swallowed alive... to be eaten by her enemy was horror beyond pain.
Nephis tried to rise, fury blazing in her eyes. But before she could steady herself, Luna's jaws opened wide, beastial fangs glinting and clamped down, tearing away her leg in a single savage bite.
Both fighters leapt back, chests heaving. Nephis's white flames sputtered, dimmer now, while Luna stood drenched in gore stood taller, blood clinging to her like a second skin. She needed blood and flesh to keep the Rose Bishop's power from weakening, and Nephis provided it in abundance.
That was the difference. Nephis could only burn her essence away, weaker with each breath. But Luna? By devouring her, she replenished her strength. Immortality had become a feast, and the scales of battle tipped mercilessly in her favor.
Wiping her face, Luna licked crimson from her lips and narrowed her eyes. This battle wasn't about striking the killing blow anymore, it was about endurance. Who could last longer?
The air shook with the clash of steel and screams. Four Sleepers had ignited the spark, and now the entire throne room was a battlefield. Castle Guards under Tessai's banner threw themselves against the slum dwellers and Medici's Hunters, each side tearing the other apart for supremacy.
"Useless," Luna thought coldly. Tessai had likely sparked this mess. She would rip his heart out once her meal was finished.
Though, in the frenzy, Luna caught something peculiar. Bodies weren't piling up. They were vanishing. One heartbeat they lay broken, the next they disappeared. Her pupils contracted as realization struck. A blur moved among the chaos... Caster?
The speedster was whisking the injured away before they could be trampled or slaughtered. And Kai was helping him.
A warm smile tugged at her lips... Amon, huh?
She tilted her head back toward Nephis, who stood grim and silent amid the carnage. Luna readied herself to strike... then froze.
Her smile faltered.
Amon was gone.
So was Sunny.
And Harus… vanished, too.
***
[A/N: Well, this is it, fellas. The trio is going wild, I guess. Anyway, I'm cooked. Couldn't adapt to this fever crap, so we can say without a doubt that I am defeated. I started this chapter yesterday and wrapped up Medici's part. Then today I worked on Luna's fight, but it didn't come out as great as I wanted, my head's fucked. It's not bad, just not as hype as Medici's bit. Well, I don't know, you decide how good it is:
1. Peak
2. Good
3. Meh
4. Trash
Also, not sure if I'll be posting chapters these days. Don't feel too great, so sorry about that. That's it for now, enjoy the meal.]
***