November of the Sainted Year (Second Civil Month)

That Friday, Sylia's fate was sealed. In the meantime, her allies were gathering to support her. This is the account of Gyundon's day, after he received the dreaded news from his relatives.

(Gyundon)

Gyundon sat at the window with a blue mug resting in both hands, steam rising from the dark liquid within. The bitter scent curled up into his nose, sharp and familiar—which recipe was based on an old Nights Church concoction, brewed only by a few who still remembered the right steps. His father's Church. His bloodline's Church. Sigmudi, by origin. He had little taste for coffee early in the morning—not that it was easy to find—but this drink wasn't meant for pleasure although he rather enjoyed the taste of it. It was healthy grounding. Meant to reinvigorate the person, fortify the body, clean the Mana and steady the nerves. In other words, meant for his bloodline.

It was Friday morning, his day off. One of several in the week, now that he worked part-time. Gyundon had taken to the rhythm easily enough. A man in his early forties with more obligation than lands and more family than allies. His usual melancholy lingered, sitting with him, still and cold.

He had received news. Unsettling, but vague. The sort that left one staring out the window longer than intended.

Grenar. His grandfather.

Something had happened. Nothing had been confirmed. His brother had just mentioned it in passing. Their father, Dio Krevoski-Sigmund, had hinted at it too but neither said what exactly. Only that it involved Sylia. And in their family, that was never trivial.

Outside, frost clung to the shaded edge of the garden's fence.

Gyundon's property stood next to those owned by his brothers Dyoran and Dyon, side by side, only separated by some parcels meant to farm. All three siblings and a few of their paternal cousins lived as neighbors, in homes that hadn't aged much in two decades. These were built to endure. Some had been formed through Magic, others laid stone by stone, but all had settled on lands that hadn't existed before.

Kalmyak village rested on territory that had been added to the world just twenty-four years ago—part of a broader expansion shaped through divine and spiritual force. The Kingdom's jurisdiction here was limited from the beginning, and it remained so.

Although the lands had been conjured during that time, the village itself had come later, built gradually—some homes magically conjured at the start by the Spirits, but most raised over time by hand, Magic and effort. Surrounding it, as part of that same act of creation, stood the Enclaved Forests of Kalum, Gwalum, and Renkald. These were not ordinary woods. They had been forged by Spirits, sealed, sacred, and hostile to intruders. No one entered without cause or permission. The Guardian Spirits that roamed there answered only to the higher Spirits and Gods, and many who trespassed were never seen again or put in a cell outside those lands.

Most locals assumed the area and the village was just another provincial cluster. They didn't know Sylia had built parts of it herself. Not for beauty or commerce, but for family. For Dio's bloodline. It wasn't something people spoke about openly. Most of the neighbors lived in rented homes and saw only a peaceful village. They had no idea the land had been created for Sylia's kin. But Gyundon knew. So did Dyoran. And so did Dyon.

Not far from their row of country residences stood one of Sylia's farms—a large, quietly impressive property registered under followers of the Nights Church. Officially, it wasn't hers, but no one in the family doubted who had built it. Sylia seldom used the farm herself, but she had created it for Dio's children, offering them a place to stay when needed. It wasn't farmland in name only. Parts of it were still worked, and others kept open for gatherings, rest days, or temporary lodging. Its nearness to Gyundon's home meant his family was often among those invited to use it, though always sparingly.

Farther out stood another farm, larger still, built specifically for Dio and his siblings. With a bloodline as large as theirs, they needed the space. It had been made for ease, to let the family gather without complication or crowding.

Gyundon's mother lived closer to the village with her relatives in the area meant for general settlement. That section had grown around its own rhythms, while the line of houses Gyundon shared with his brothers and cousins remained distinctly theirs—close-knit, grounded in old agreements.

Gyundon sipped again from the mug. The bitterness clung to his tongue.

Behind him, the house creaked softly—his First Wife Heidi, perhaps, starting the fire again without the maid's help. Trish, his Second Wife had taken two of the children out before sunrise. The rest were either still asleep or pretending to be. His mistress, discreet as ever, had not ventured outside of her assigned house located further away. Gyundon thought bitterly that their marital and living arrangements were close to those any Viscount or wealthy Noble would have. He still lacked the title or any distinction due to his family's history as Declassed Nobles.

Gyundon still had no shame in his holdings. They weren't lavish like those of the high Nobility, but for a Gentry family, they were generous—well-built, well-protected, and expansive enough to show the family's worth.

Gyundon lived in the main family house with several of his children. He shared the space with his First Wife and their children, though she spent most of her time in her own assigned house farther down the path. His Second Wife and her children had been given a nearby home as well, positioned close to the First Wife's. His official mistress lived in a more secluded dwelling near the main road, while Gyundon himself kept a smaller private house on the property, his retreat when he needed time alone. Several of his grown children occupied homes deeper within the estate, near the staff housing on the inner edge of his lands. The other service houses were set along the path leading back toward the main house. A row of guesthouses lined the central alley, reserved for family or trusted visitors.

Miguel, one of his eldest sons, and Cathia, his daughter, were the ones who ensured the safety of the household while Gyundon and Dyoran were away on patrol. In this world, even the countryside could be dangerous. The family's lands were known to carry strong magic, and more than once, magical beasts had slipped past the outer wards. As for his Dyon, he was never considered for combat. He was more Mage than fighter, and his work focused on maintaining protection spells and overseeing the magical protection fields.

When he wasn't on patrol, Gyundon divided his time between two parcels of land. One was a smaller field just west of his house, modest and manageable, the kind of plot he could tend in the mornings without leaving home for long.

The second was a larger parcel of land, nearly seventy miles away, located between the Nights Smallville town and the Nights & Greenfield village where lived his younger brother Stratton, now thirty-nine and his twin brother Delkiozo who had settled in with his wives and children. Delkiozo's eldest son, Syatro, twenty-seven, who lived there with his own family often traveled to visit Gyundon and lend support.

The large parcel took more effort, both in distance and in work, but Gyundon made the trip often. It gave him a reason to visit his brother, and while they rarely spoke much when they met, the visits had become part of his rhythm. Their understanding didn't need words.

Gyundon also worked a large farm, in that area, one he shared with a handful of siblings. The children and he often went there for holidays. The youngest liked it there, and the ground was good for farming. It was their own little peaceful paradise. If things became complicated, he would likely go stay there.

Gyundon stood slowly, setting the mug down on the thick sill.

He would check in with his brother Dyoran first, then perhaps speak to Dyon. If neither had heard more, he would go see his relatives in the City.

The day was still young, but the silence in his chest told him something had already begun.

***

Heidi sighed as she watched her husband by the fireplace. His thoughts had drifted again, off to some place she could no longer follow. He still looked so much younger than his age. When they had married fifteen years ago, he'd looked exactly the same. Now, she looked older than he did, which was a strange reversal, considering the man was eight years her senior.

Their marriage had been the result of circumstances. She had been only a naïve nineteen-year-old by religious years. A childless young woman from a Noble Gentry family, while Gyundon had been a mature and hardened twenty-seven-year-old soldier from a Slums Gentry background, with many children already to his name. The marriage or should she say the imprisonment had been arranged by her father and her uncle Danikos, both Noble Gentlemen and influential Tradesmen in Clambersia, a city at the border of Elovarre, a Province known for being a trade hub.

Heidi's beautiful homeland, the city of Clambersia, had thrived under the joint rule of Elovarre, Irdalenvi, and the Royal Province, and had become exceedingly renowned for its trade and industry. Most of its fame, however, came from its slave markets, its slave-charged Magic Crystals and Stones, and its rich networks of prostitution and gaming hells. Its loose laws on enslavement, drugs, and human rights had made it infamous across the continent. Some had even called it the Capital of Sins. Even Craftsmen had once flocked there to sell their products to the many foreigners who visited the city. At least, those who hadn't been recruited by the new cities created over the last few decades by the Gods.

Heidi cursed, reminded that the city was no longer under the control of the Three Provinces. It had fallen under the rule of the divine cities created by the Gods, who had even initiated a purge that reduced the population to half its original number. Nobles had been the first to be driven out, many to other territories. Some had been executed. Then came the exodus of Commoners who didn't meet the criteria set by the Gods. One of Heidi's brothers had been cast out in the process. Her father had been spared, but who could say whether he would survive the next purge?

For decades, her family had lived off the very activities now condemned by the Gods—activities they had tolerated for so long before finally cracking down, slaughtering so many in the process. Her eldest uncle, former Baronet Lekroma, a man who had been most generous to her and a few of her siblings, had been one of the first to be imprisoned during the latest purge, then executed. Since then, several of their relatives had been captured and thrown into filthy cells.

This purge hadn't even been the first. There had been others before it. However, the one that had happened just before her marriage when the majority of the Slaves had been freed overnight and the slavers arrested, had left a deep impression. Everyone had known it would be a massacre.

Prince Salandar, a patron of Heidi's family—who had ruled as Grand Duke of the Semi-Independent Fenaladio Grand Duchy, a territory situated within the Nagasmar Kingdom but mostly controlled by the Kingdom-Empire of Krendakar—had pushed too far.Everyone in the city had known that enslaving all the Nobles of the Kalambers Half-Enclave had been a grave mistake.

Taking a few hundred Slaves every year had already been dangerous enough, but the invasion of the Half-Enclave which had been created by a fallen Subordinate Goddess of Moondeen, then the enslavement of all its residents had been more than the Gods would bear.

The main problem was that the Half-Enclave contained many bloodlines of Moondeen herself, something the foolish prince had ignored knowingly.

Once the Gods made their decision, it hadn't taken long. The Kingdom-Empire was destroyed entirely, its lands shrunk and transformed into a desert territory where the Gods enslaved those they deemed worthy of an exemplary punishment.

As for the Grand Duchy, it had simply been wiped from the map. The Gods had permitted only non-residents to flee. Not even the children had been spared.

Why should they have been, when the Gods' own children had not?

Her family had lost, in that moment, most of its wealth, businesses, and support. Her uncle Willerios, a Noble Gentleman, and his family had been immediately imprisoned and later executed.

So much had changed since the days she had lived swaddled in wealth and opulence, surrounded by servants who could perform Magic with flawless ease, while she struggled to control even the basics. Her uncle Willerios had been generous, determined to ease her into the life of a Noblewoman in preparation for a marriage into the nobility.

All Heidi had to do was occasionally entertain a few Noblemen and Noble Gentlemen, her uncle's friends or patrons, without ever telling her father. She hadn't minded. She enjoyed sex, and they had treated her well, often showering her with gifts. Her stepmother and her uncle Danikos had helped cover for her. Her father hadn't found out until much later, and when he did, he forgave neither his brother nor his wife.

Heidi often wished she could return to that time. It had been her aunt Judith's fault that she was sent away to a suburb town, supposedly so her paternal family could keep her under tighter control. Judith might not have told her father everything, but she had said enough. He never forgave or even understood that Heidi had been seeing men from Noble Houses without his knowledge, making her chances of marrying into one all the more remote. Heidi had calmed down after enduring many threats of disinheritance, but in the end, her father had gone through with it.

She remained bitter to this day. She had been sent to live in a place her father and a few relatives referred to as "charming," though they all knew it was little more than a glorified farmhouse. Her brother Gatael had called it "countryside comfort," as if that excused anything. Her sister Karaelle had openly thrown herself at Gyundon and even tried to steal him away. Heidi would have gladly let him go—if not for the children. Her offspring, born of other men, needed a home.

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Now Karaelle had become the unofficial fourth wife, and their cousin Lisa the fifth. Heidi still hadn't discovered who the third was. She had only been told the woman didn't live nearby. They had likely hidden her for some devious reason.

For years, Heidi had tried to convince her husband to move to Duckenber Manor, where they used to receive guests and entertain. But he had always refused, claiming this place was more convenient, that he liked it better. She had yelled at him more than once, but he had never budged. Compared to the guest manors, their home was provincial and rustic. At least hers was better decorated since it had been done according to her taste—or so the decorator had told her. Heidi, of course, had better taste than that, but she had to look the part of a Commoner soldier's wife. She had been told more than once that many would kill to have what she had. Even her father had said so. Of course he would.

Nothing in the house was pre-charged with Magic or embedded spells, unlike her childhood home. The Magic Sygils here were absurdly complex, and she had to rely on her own Magic which had nearly disappeared over the past year. Her mother had warned her long ago. Using others' Magic and Mana would only stunt her own development, or worse, corrupt and erode it until nothing remained. Her father had met the same fate, but Heidi had begun using crystals and enchanted stones at just six years old. The damage had been done long ago. She had never been able to properly control her Magic and Mana.

With so little Magic left, she couldn't even light the ridiculous stove and oven her husband had acquired—not even the ones brought in specifically for her to test her Magic. That was why she needed Duckenber. That place was enchanted. Everything functioned on its own. It might not have been as luxurious as the other guest manors, but it had its charm. Heidi still preferred Vernetec, but that one required more Magic than she could supply and it was too extravagant, making it an obvious target for thieves. She wasn't stupid. She had never asked for Vernetec. Only for Duckenber, where several of her relatives had stayed before. Of course, they had seldom stayed in her house, so they couldn't possibly understand how bitter it had become for Heidi.

She resented her husband more than ever. She knew about the manor where he visited the children he had with that whore, Sylia. She had even seen it once, thanks to a helpful relative of Gyundon. He claimed to like this house, called it "comfortable," yet spent so many days in the other one. She didn't even know if he slept here at all. His bed was always neatly made in the morning. Even the maids whispered about it, though none would ever dare say anything beyond these walls.

Most of the maids were happy to work here. Their employer was young, decent-looking, and most importantly not demanding. Some had been wary at first, fearing he might behave like certain young countryside Lords who expected sexual favors. But they had quickly learned they could stand naked in front of him and he wouldn't even blink. The man had too much pride. More pride than any Noble she had ever known.

That pride had made her life miserable. She had been trapped for years in a loveless and now sexless marriage, bound to it only by her children. Not his. Those she wouldn't have cared for anyway. But the others, the ones she had with men who had, at the very least, adored her.

Before marrying that overbearing man, she had been a girl full of hope. Beautiful. Sought after. Her first marriage had been a disaster. She had ended it after just a few months and returned home. She had fallen for a Gentry-class Craftsman, before realizing just how different her life had been from his. Her family had been so wealthy they lived like Nobles. Her father, though barely qualifying as a Noble Gentleman by most standards, had bought his way into circles few would suspect. He had even dealt with the Royal family.

However, that time was gone. He had fallen out of grace with his major clients, and his wealth had been squandered by the very children he had spoiled rotten. Ironically enough, Heidi herself had been sold. Not at first. At first, it had been punishment—a threat to behave. She had agreed to marry the soldier who had gotten her pregnant, knowing she could quietly divorce him a few months later, once the scandal faded. She had followed him around for days before he even noticed her.

Heidi had been intrigued by the stranger in that quiet town where she was living—so close to the noisy Clambersia that never slept. At least, not back then. Now that they had expelled half the population, it probably slept just fine.

Heidi had enjoyed Gyundon's company for weeks before they were discovered. Her uncle and father, who had been trying to arrange a marriage with a proper Noble, were furious. They had threatened the man, but he had stayed calm. Too calm. He had simply walked away, and she had been forced to call him back through one of his relatives, Sligmar Savanged, who had stayed behind.

Heidi's father had been most devastated when he discovered the man was of Sigmundi blood. Heidi hadn't understood what that meant. Not at the time. She only learned later, from her own family, that Gyundon's bloodline was under heavy restrictions imposed by the Royal family—punishments passed down for generations, the legacy of ancestors who had challenged the throne too many times. It meant she would end up in the Slums with them. Though shocked, her father and her brother Junaldio had accepted it. They needed to send her away quickly, before their patrons found out.

However, to her family's surprise, Gyundon had refused to marry her. He had agreed only to take her in, at least until she delivered his child. Nothing more. He'd informed them that he was no longer under strict constraints, having been mostly freed by his Goddess. He had remained only to assist his father and support his family, but he could be released from all obligations at any time.

Gyundon had even added, much to the surprise of his cousin Sligmar, that he could even claim a title, though not in this country, but in the territories of his Goddess. He also held the prerogatives of a lower-class Noble in the few lands he owned alongside his siblings. Due to his current status, those lands were administrated by a Knight Order created by his Goddess—one so powerful, it could rival the Order of the Black Phoenix.

Sligmar had paled. "You own lands? I never knew."

Gyundon sighed. "I don't go around telling people that. I'm still commissioned. I actually might even acquire a few more assets once my woman and my Goddess are done with this place. I could even claim some of the assets held by Heidi's cousins. Sir Lowkos and his brother Clodisvos are likely being butchered right now. My woman doesn't take kindly to threats. Since those names were used to intimidate us, she'll see to it they're dealt with first and will toss their children out of the city. My Goddess is the Night's Queen. She pays everything back to the centuple."

Heidi's father had turned pale. Junaldio looked ready to flee.

Gyundon smiled. "Aren't you a little too small to be making threats? My Mana is at Viscount-class, and I have Blessings that raise me to Count-class in combat. Do you think I'm like Sligmar, who could barely qualify as Baronet?"

Fanatello Dorsini wiped his forehead and shook his head. "No—my apologies. It was my brother who made those threats. Not me. I only made… pressing demands."

Gyundon: "Which is why he's rotting in a cell for six months while you're not. But if you keep pressing for marriage, using my mother's weaknesses—so conveniently provided by my cousins—then it'll be on my Goddess's terms. My marriage contracts are in name only. I can take several wives nominally for protection or convenience. It helps me blend in and avoid being constantly approached. A younger man with Noble blood and lands, especially on newly established territories, is highly sought after in my region. Perhaps my Goddess was too generous. We're trying to keep out of sight, to keep our real homes hidden. She'll create a new settlement to help with that—something modest, projecting less wealth and Magic. It's in those lands that I'm offering to take in Heidi for a time. And Candy, too. Maybe more permanently."

Sira Remealdi gasped and clutched Heidi's hand. "Candy? My cousin? Why would you take her in?"

Gyundon shrugged. "My siblings took a liking to her. She seems like a decent woman—like many Remealdis. Seeing her in a city known as the Capital of Sin disturbed them.

Our Goddesses and Moondeen are on good terms. Our main Goddess, the Goddess of the Nights and Rights has a Moon division. We even have a small semi-hidden chapel for Moondeen. My mother and several of her relatives go there with my sisters.

My woman asked me to extend the invitation. She could offer protection to Candy, as a Pre-Saint of Moondeen.

After what the Mad Prince did, the city is no longer safe for Moondeen's followers. No one knows when it'll quiet down. Maybe never. Women are especially vulnerable.

You, perhaps less so. You seem to have been God-blessed, alongside a few of your relatives, with combat abilities and you also have a son high enough in the hierarchy to protect you.

Heidi, on the other hand, lost her Moondeen blessing. It was passed fully to our unborn daughter. That much is clear from her hair—devoid now of Moondeen's Mana."

Sira Remealdi slowly removed her hand and shifted away from her daughter, who gaped in stunned silence. Sira glanced toward her son, Merkal Ashergen, with visible unease. She grimaced. "You are… well informed. You must've done your research."

Gyundon nodded slightly. "My woman knows a lot."

Sira Remealdi sighed. "Isn't she upset? About you taking in your illegitimate children—their mother—and a cousin? She doesn't seem the jealous type, but still, any woman might be bothered by that. I wouldn't even call her your woman. She doesn't seem to think so."

Gyundon chuckled. "My woman has a thousand other men. She never asks any of them for exclusivity—only loyalty to her above all others. She is a True Saint to many Churches and the Avatar to nearly as many Gods. She can't be expected to settle for just a few. She must content the followers of all her Churches."

Sira Remealdi stared, stunned. Heidi's father edged toward the door. Merkal Ashergen gave a nervous smile. "Is that so?"

Gyundon shrugged. "That's how things are. Her lifespan will exceed all of ours. And to be honest… I'm two decades older than my official age."

That was when Heidi fainted. The rest, she hadn't heard. She had nearly forgotten most of that conversation as well.

***

Dio Krevoski-Sigmund arrived shortly before Fourth Bell. He was sweating slightly and wearing his full armor gear—an unusual sight for him. He didn't bother with pleasantries and barely greeted his sons.

"We have a problem."

Gyundon crossed his arms. "I figured. Dyon gave me a few details before you came in."

Dio's gaze dropped, his voice heavy with dread. "We might've lost Gyuntez for good this time."

Gyundon didn't even flinch. "We already knew that. Should've replaced him with his Replica like the Guardians told us."

Dio snapped, "I had no idea he'd return to those ways! I don't even recognize him anymore."

"I haven't recognized him in years," Gyundon said flatly. "I'm surprised you still did."

Dio clenched his jaw and sighed in frustration.

Gyundon added, "I guess it can't be that bad if she didn't call us."

"Or," Dyon cut in, "it's so bad she didn't want to risk us."

Gyundon shrugged. "I wouldn't mind dying for our Goddess. That's our duty."

Dyon gave a quiet laugh. "You say that, but you don't know her well enough if you think she'd risk any of us—not even Dio. She'll call when it matters. Until then, best not to stir trouble on her behalf."

Dio looked away, suddenly ashamed. "My son… he just finished his training as a Sainted Knight of the Order of the Dark Wolves and Phoenix Creeds. He starts his first mission tonight. I… I wanted to be there for him."

Dyoran softened. "Really? You must be proud."

"I am." Dio said, though his voice dimmed. "But I barely recognize him now. He's grown so much. He said he'll regress his body to keep watch over us. With Syliamor… they have no choice. She's still frozen in that green crystal they sealed her in, but it might not hold."

Dyoran's face darkened. "They should've killed her."

"She's still my blood!" Dio snapped.

"And what rotten blood that is," Dyoran shot back. "She never had a chance."

Dio turned to Gyundon. "What about you? You also had children with an unstable Division. Would you abandon your daughters?"

Gyundon shrugged. "Their Spiritual and Immortal selves were either destroyed or reforged into something else. It was different. They trimmed those parts on purpose, so their Mortal halves could live freely. Their birth created too many low-grade Celestials and Gods. That was the real danger. They came from Mana polluted by fallen Goddesses. I still have my daughters, and whatever had latched onto them was cut. I'd rather that than watch them die or be corrupted. We knew the risks."

Dio looked down, eyes wide with grief, doubt creeping in like a sickness.

"Don't look like that, Father," Dyoran said. "Syliamor joined them against her own mother, against us. You would've been the first they killed. That man Juran? He's not what he seems. He's a God. A fallen one, hiding inside the body of his Sainted Knight."

Dio gasped. "What?"

"She didn't tell you." Dyoran said, tired now. "To protect you. If they'd let Syliamor join with him, he might've risen again using her powers. He'd wipe us all out. Syliamor doesn't see us as family anymore. To her, we're just worms. And it's exhausting. You always fall for the bad side's tricks, and we always have to clean up after you. Sylia's risked so much for you. Did you forget?"

"How could I?" Dio whispered, on the edge of tears. "Even if she made me forget again. Kept me at arm's length."

"Only because you got fooled again." Dyoran said. "That time, it was by Gyuntez. Not just Grenar."

"I know." Dio muttered, fists clenched.

The room fell silent as a tall young man entered, clad in Sainted Knight armor bearing a crest few dared to look at directly. The sigil burned with quiet authority. He scanned the room and said, "Dio, stop whining about Syliamor. I might actually get angry this time. And this place looks the same. This is so nostalgic. I used to play here."

Gyundon recovered first, his face breaking into a rare smile. He stepped forward, arms wide. "Neron! Come here, boy."

Neron stepped into his half-brother's embrace, smiling back. Gyundon took a step back to admire the armor. "Look at you! This gear is something else."

Neron grinned and gestured toward Dio. "Father wasn't too pleased. He thought I'd get something boring like his old armor. As if a Half-God, even a Mortal one, could wear something like that without it breaking at the first Mana surge."

Dio gasped. He had forgotten what his son truly was. Gyundon's Second Wife clung to her adult son, both of them pale.

Neron's tone turned hard. "So, where is that bitch who made those pacts with those Gods? It's time to extinguish them all. I was asked to make her pray in the courtyard to receive Divine Judgement alongside the Gods who supported her."

Gyundon nodded toward the far door. "We had to lock her up again with the others. She tried to burn the house and started praying to those Gods she made a pact with to stir trouble. A Bunny helped deal with some of the ones who answered."

Neron chuckled. "I know that one. One of Mother's relentless little workers. We have to hurry. This world's going to fracture soon."

"What?!" Dio shouted.

"It'll take months," Neron said calmly. "They're dividing forces. The two halves of the world will stay linked for now, but that link will weaken over time. In a few millennia, it'll break entirely. The independent Enclaves that are being or have been created are to join a new world with less corruption. That's where many of us are going. Many of you, at least your Souls, will follow. But not everyone will. This world's rot is too deep, even for the blessed. Mother can't shield you forever."

Dyoran and Gyundon both nodded, as if this had long been understood. Dyon panicked. His son Danielzo looked even worse.

Gyundon said. "This was discussed with the Goddess from the start. The Souls of her loyal assets will follow to a better world. This was part of the reason she descended here. This is the normal process for the Lords. A reward for the Souls who had worked hard to prevent this world from collapsing too soon and maintain a certain balance. They will make new Souls that will tasked with the same. Some will succeed. Others might fail. So is the cycle of life."

Dio turned toward his son, worried. Neron caught the look.

"Dad," he said, "if you want to be useful, go talk to Tamren. He's been harassing Mother. He just figured out who she really is and that she's been here for over fifty years."

Dyon uncrossed his arms, shocked. "What the hell are you saying?"

Dio sighed. "My uncles… my older cousins… they knew her back then. Sylia, the one we know now, was made from the one they used to call the Hammer of God Lady. I only just remembered."

Dyon shouted, Gyundon froze. His wife collapsed, whimpering.

Dyon roared. "Do you even understand what you just said?!"

Dio stared at his hands, his voice quiet. "My memories are returning. The Hammer of God… she sent a Division here. That's how it all started. Many of my relatives left to live in her Dimensional Enclave. A new world for the true worshippers of the Lords of the Nights. It had always been her, the true Lady of the Nights. All the others don't matter. Many are just counterfeits anyway."

Neron smiled. "Exactly. A few of us, like me, will rise as her Glaives or her Little Hammers. Maybe both. Celestial or God, we'll carry her missions forward."

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