Across the battlefield, the orc chieftains watched the beam of life tear across the sky and carry Thavuk far beyond the fighting. For a moment, the battlefield fell quiet as both armies realized what had happened. Then the chieftain lifted his horn and sounded the call for retreat. The deep note rolled across the field, cutting through the noise of battle.
Orc warriors reacted immediately. They broke formation and began to withdraw in tight groups, dragging wounded allies with them as they moved. Suddenly, thick branches burst from the ground along their path. Roots split the soil and wooden limbs lashed at the retreating ranks, forcing them to scatter and pick new routes. The attack only confirmed the urgency of their withdrawal, and the retreat turned into a full run toward the north.
High above the field, a small bird circled once before diving toward the ground. It landed in front of the human army and shifted into Osvald's human form. He stepped forward and raised his hand, stopping the soldiers who had already begun to move after the fleeing enemy.
He knew the truth of the battle. Thavuk would not fall from a single strike. The attack had bought them time, nothing more, and their forces needed rest and reinforcement.
Osvald lowered his hand and gave the order. A horn answered his command, its call echoing across the battlefield as his army began its own retreat to regroup and prepare for the battles still ahead.
...
Thavuk clawed his way out from beneath the churned earth, fingers tearing through packed soil and shattered roots until cold air filled his lungs again. The dirt slid from his shoulders in heavy clumps, revealing flesh that had already knitted itself back together. Only faint black veins pulsed beneath his skin, the last traces of the wound that had nearly ended him. The void never forgot its champions; as long as even a fragment of him remained, it would rebuild what had been broken.
He rose slowly, pain still lingered, a dull echo inside his ribs, but weakness was a luxury he could never afford. Not with the chieftains watching. Not with the whispers that would spread if he retreated now. Among the orcs, power was not simply survival, it was necessary. To falter in front of them was to invite challenge and rebellion.
His lip curled. That would not happen.
Void light ignited within his eyes, a deep violet glow that spilled into the air like smoke. He raised one hand toward the heavens, fingers spreading as though grasping something invisible. The air bent around his palm. Threads of void coiled together, twisting tighter and tighter until they became a single needle of absolute black.
He fired it skyward.
The world shuddered as the thread pierced the clouds. A ripple tore through the air like a stone cast into a frozen lake. For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then the sky cracked.
A jagged fracture split the sky, glowing with violent purple light. The sound that followed was not thunder, it was the scream of reality itself breaking apart. The fracture splintered, branching into countless glowing lines until the sky resembled shattered glass held together by fragile light.
Then the glass broke.
The fragments peeled back, revealing a wound in the world, a vast, devouring hole of perfect darkness. No stars shone within it. No depth could be measured. It was not night, not shadow, just absence.
Thavuk's grin spread slowly across his face.
This was a spell he avoided whenever possible. The void answered, yes, but it did not obey. The creatures that crawled through such tears recognized no master. They fed, wandered, and spread until something stronger forced them back into the nothingness they came from.
But today he did not need obedience. He only needed destruction.
Behind him was the Shadowland filled with the goddess's power. Creatures of the void would feel that difference instinctively. They would rather go the other way, instead of walking into that power.
And his army would retreated from another direction. Or at least it was what he hoped for.
A smirk tugged at his tusked mouth as he turned his back on the torn sky. Let the world deal with what he had unleashed. Let the chieftains see the aftermath and whisper his name with fear instead of doubt.
Without another glance, Thavuk began walking toward the Shadowland, boots crunching against ash grey soil as the broken heavens groaned.
Behind him, the portal widened.
At first it was only darkness, a perfect, lightless void that swallowed depth and distance alike. But then shapes began to move inside it. Not silhouettes. Not shadows. Something worse, the suggestion of motion without form, like thoughts trying to become bodies.
Only when he reached the ridge did he allow himself a glance over his shoulder.
The portal had begun to bleed.
Black tendrils poured from the rupture like ink spilled into water, spreading across the sky and blotting out the sun in crooked veins. Where the tendrils touched the clouds, the clouds rotted, collapsing into drifting flakes of grey dust that fell silently to the earth.
Then the first creature emerged.
…
Leo sat motionless upon his throne, fingers resting against the carved armrest while his thoughts churned endlessly. For days he had returned to this chamber, searching through memory after memory from the Staff he got in the City of Future, hoping that somewhere within that endless well of knowledge he would find a solution.
But there had been nothing.
Finally, he exhaled and rose to his feet. If knowledge could not guide him, then perhaps experience would.
His form dissolved into light. Suddenly, the throne room vanished, replaced by the towering trunk of the massive world tree. Leo reappeared at its entrance and stepped inside, the familiar scent of moss and glowing pollen filling the air. Even after visiting many times, the sight still stole his breath.
Soft flowers of every imaginable color blanketed the interior like living constellations. Mushrooms sprouted along the inner bark, their gentle glow pulsing like a heartbeat through the wood itself. The entire space felt alive, as if the tree was quietly listening to every step he took.
At the center of the living garden sat Ilandra.
She rested peacefully among the blossoms, as though she had always been there and always would be. Without turning fully, her head tilted slightly toward him.
"What brings you here?" she asked.
"I have a question," Leo replied, stepping closer. His voice carried an unfamiliar weight. "I want to know if there is a way to give a part of my domain to Elna without causing her any harm."
For a brief moment, Ilandra's eyes narrowed. Silence spread through the garden like ripples across still water.
"Well," she said at last, "that's not a hard thing to do."
Leo blinked, surprise flashing across his face. "Really?"
"I still don't have all my memories," she continued, rising gracefully to her feet, "but everything in Ethereon follows the same foundation. We are bound by rules in this world, yet we can also create them. New rules must obey the old ones, of course, but they can still reshape reality."
Leo frowned slightly, absorbing her words. "I almost understand. But how can I make those rules?"
Instead of answering immediately, Ilandra stood up and began walking toward the exit of the tree. Leo followed. The glowing garden opened into a view of the distant throne room.
Ilandra stopped at the threshold, gazing outward.
"In here," she said softly, "understanding is not the first step."
She glanced back at him, a faint smile forming.
"Belief is."
Leo followed her gaze, and suddenly it clicked. The spell above his throne room hadn't been built or designed, it had formed entirely on its own, responding to nothing but the bare force of his will and of course his spell.
"Of course, if we understand it, it will work better," Ilandra said, her voice calm yet certain.
Leo had just begun to process that when another question arose, pressing insistently against the clarity he had just gained. "If Ethereon answers our will like this," he asked, "then why did the Destroyer try to wipe out the world? Couldn't he have done the same thing that happened here?"
Ilandra's eyes darkened slightly as she considered him. "He willed power, yes, but he didn't understand what power truly was. The world answered him, of course, but his mind was twisted, filled with destruction and malice. That was the answer he received."
"So… it's tied to who we are?" Leo asked.
"I think it depends on the soul," she replied. "The world responds to the essence within, not just the intention."
Leo sat silently for a moment, letting her words sink in. Then he nodded slowly. "Thank you. I think I understand now."
Before she could respond, he vanished, leaving the garden and her glowing flowers behind. Moments later, he appeared in front of Elna's building. The air was still here, almost waiting, untouched by the distant pulse of his throne room.
Now came the real work, creating the rules. He closed his eyes and focused, letting his mind trace the edges of the problem. Domains were tied to the soul. Too much exposure, too much raw energy, and the contact would overwhelm her, corrupting what should have grown naturally. The challenge was clear, he needed to grant access carefully, in measured layers, with safeguards strong enough to protect her from her own limits.
He imagined it in his mind, a slow, steady stream of power that grew as her soul strengthened, like a river widening over centuries instead of bursting all at once. Perhaps he could even craft it so that the rules themselves would watch over her, a self correcting system that would prevent harm before it could reach her.
When he opened his eyes, three luminous rings hovered around the building, rotating slowly like celestial orbits. They glowed faintly, reflecting the weight of the rules they embodied.
"Three…" he whispered, awe threading his voice.
He lifted his hand. Threads of light extended downward from each ring, as if they recognized him as their master. When the strands connected to his palm, the purpose of each became clear. He could feel them, their nature and intent flowing into him.
The first was restriction, a boundary to keep Elna's use of his domain safe.
The second was bestowal, granting controlled access beneath that boundary.
The third was protection, an invisible shield to guard her soul against misuse or corruption.
A slow smile crossed his face. Each rule pulsed, alive and obedient, ready to act in concert with his will.
It was time. Time to bring Elna here.
In the real world, Leo opened his eyes and took in the familiar sights of the ship's edge. Elna and Selina had just finished their training, their breathing heavy and their bodies glistening with sweat. He leapt on the platform and approached Elna, a small smile on his face as he handed her a towel.
Elna took it, wiping the sweat from her brow and neck, but she immediately felt the weight of Leo's gaze lingering on her.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, tilting her head.
"Come with me," he said simply. "I want to show you something."
"But I'm all sweaty," she protested, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"Well," he said, pushing her gently by the arm and starting toward his cabin, "where we're going doesn't really need your real body. Besides… I don't mind that you're sweaty."
Her cheeks flushed as he guided her along.
Meanwhile, Miriam leaned against the railing nearby, smirking as Selina walked over to retrieve her towel.
"Lucky girl," Miriam murmured, the grin on her face wide and knowing.
Leo brought Elna into his room and closed the door with a soft click.
"Okay," he said, turning toward her, "we have to go into my domain."
"Why?" she asked, surprise flickering across her face.
"You'll see," he replied, his tone calm but firm.
Closing his eyes, Leo shifted his consciousness into his domain, and with a gentle gesture, he summoned Elna. Without his will, no one could enter, only Luciana and Arthur, through specific buildings or spells he had granted, could traverse freely.
They appeared inside the gathering hall of his domain, the familiar walls and ceiling stretching around them like a dreamscape molded by his will.
"You've already taken the first step toward creating your domain, right?" he asked.
"Yes," she said, "but it's just an empty dark space for now."
Leo nodded, raising his hand in a simple gesture. She reached out, and as their hands met, the world around them shifted. They vanished from the hall and reappeared in front of the building that would become hers. Leo turned to her, his expression patient.
"Can you transform into your new vampire form?" he asked.
Elna blinked, studying him for a second, then closed her eyes. When she opened them again, her eyes glowed softly, and her silver hair had lengthened slightly, shimmering with the faint aura of power.
"Now what?" she asked, uncertainty mingling with curiosity.
Before Leo could answer, the doors of the building swung open. A soft, radiant light spilled out.
"I know you've been pushing yourself to grow stronger faster, so I devised a way to help," He said. "This building is now part of your domain. From this point on, you can access your domain through here, and you'll have the power to support yourself, making it easier to expand and build as you grow."
Elna's eyes widened slightly, and she stepped forward, feeling the first tangible connection between herself and the world she was about to shape.
With mixed feelings she stepped into the building.