For the first time, he looked at Earl not as a subordinate, but as an equal. Suddenly, more bells rang out, louder, faster, layered with something darker beneath them. A second blinding light surged from the distance. All three turned toward it.
Roland Waver emerged, swimming hard until he passed through the golden bubble. He took a deep breath and looked at them both.
"I'm not running," he said firmly. "Like hell I'd leave my brothers to die alone."
His long dark blue hair flowed back into the water behind him as he raised his head and shouted:
"I am the final Contractor of the Dead God, Pyruis!"
The name alone sent a shudder through the ocean. The water around them cooled, darkened. A mist began to seep into the edges of the divine bubble, clinging to Roland's aura.
Valor let out a small laugh, the madness of the moment breaking through.
"If we make it out of this alive," he said, "drinks are on me."
Neither Roland nor Earl laughed but Earl cracked a small, tight smile.
Roland didn't. His expression remained grim. "I cannot," he said quietly, voice low and distant. He didn't explain, but something in the air changed. There was sorrow in his eyes. A shadow.
The serpent loomed above, circling them in the water with mounting agitation. It couldn't understand why these three, these mortals, radiated such power, why they had not fled. Why they stood against it now with such defiance in their eyes. Then it made its decision.
It reared back, gathering a colossal blast of water between its jaws, swirling with electrical current. Lightning cracked down from the surface, fusing with the blast until it glowed with elemental fury.
But Roland stepped forward within the barrier, and raised a single hand, calm in the chaos.
"Divinity of the Dead Gods…" he said, his voice echoing unnaturally through the depths. A crimson mist began to pour from his palm.
"…Death that walks. Death that breathes. Death that claims everything rather it be living, or non living..."
The aura erupted around him, being sent forward out of the barrier, it was as if it had eyes and locked with the blast ahead. Roland's chant continued.
"I speak your name, Pyruis, and call upon your will. Cloak the living and non living within the grasp of death itself.
The crimson mist surged outward in a great wave, swallowing the serpent's blast. Water rotted to stillness. Lightning dulled to nothing. The serpent's power met death itself, and died.
...
Suddenly, the Sea Serpent hesitated for the first time since arriving in this world. It recoiled, slithering back through the water as it shifted its manipulation of the surrounding weather. A vortex spun into existence, swirling with thunderclouds above. Lightning crashed into the spiraling winds, illuminating the sea in chaotic flashes of white and blue. The three remained inside the divine barrier of golden light, but the current began pulling them downward, dragging them deeper into the ocean's abyss.
Roland and Earl turned to Valor and smiled. Earl spoke first. "Captain, thank you for everything."
Roland let out a quiet chuckle, then added, "You were the greatest captain I could've asked for."
Together, they raised their hands and began to chant. Their voices merged into a shared divinity—one that mimicked a Sequence Eleven ability of spatial displacement. It was a high-level teleportation spell, but instead of one casting it alone, they split the aura cost between them, draining nearly every drop of what they had left.
The Sea Serpent sensed it instantly. Its glowing eyes widened, and a twisted grin spread across its jagged maw. It understood what had just occurred. With a guttural shriek that vibrated through the water, it surged forward, striking with a monstrous force, determined to end them before they could recover.
Valor slammed into the floor hard. The air left his lungs as his back hit cold wood. He groaned and looked around, blinking rapidly. He wasn't in the ocean anymore.
He was in 'Munching,' their favorite bar.
Dim lights flickered overhead, casting golden halos on walls lined with bottles. The smell of old wood and dried liquor filled the air, and faint jazz drifted from a record player in the corner. Voices buzzed in the background, cheerful and relaxed, completely unaware of the chaos that had just occurred elsewhere.
"Valor?" the bartender called out as he rushed over. The man had known him for over seven years and helped him up quickly, gripping his shoulder. "What the hell happened? Where the hell did you just come from? Where's everyone else?"
Valor coughed up seawater onto the floor. His fingers trembled as a flood of memories surged through him. Guilt and grief coursed through his veins like poison. He knew, deep in his soul, that they were gone. His brothers, maybe not blood and from other bloodlines, but brothers nonetheless had chosen to save him with their last breaths. The spell had taken more than they could afford.
"They... they sacrificed... themselves," he managed to say, his voice hoarse and cracking under the weight of it.
They moved slowly toward a table, the bartender steadying him with a hand on his back.
Then a gunshot rang out.
It was loud, and blinded the room for a second. A flash of muzzle heat reflected in a glass behind the bar. The first bullet tore through the bartender's chest. Blood sprayed across the counter and splattered Valor's face in a warm mist. A heartbeat later, another shot followed. The second bullet punched directly through the man's heart. He collapsed instantly, his body slumping forward with a dull thud.
"TOM!" Valor screamed as the bartender hit the ground, lifeless.
Medics rushed toward him, aura already glowing in their palms as they began emergency healing. Arbiters around the bar rose to their feet at once, chairs scraping loudly against the wooden floor. They stormed outside, weapons drawn, searching every alley, every rooftop, and every passageway, but they found no one.
Not a trace. Not even a footprint. Only the scent of blood lingered... and the silence that follows a sudden death.
Valor, barely holding on, collapsed onto the floor. A boot slammed down on his hand as a medic shifted positions, moving to assist him while the other two remained with Tom.
...
Several hours passed, and Valor's eyes widened. He looked up, still lying on the floor of the bar, and glanced around, not seeing Tom anywhere. Instantly, his heart ached with a sharp pang. He had no idea if Earl and Roland had survived, if they had won, died, or what had happened to Tom.
He scanned the floor for a moment and found a bullet. Picking it up, he noticed it was completely bloodied, but two letters were engraved into the metal: A.D.
Suddenly, the world faded, and his eyes snapped open. Zay stood once more at the top of the stairs. The golden orb of light pulsed softly. For some reason, he felt a deep sense of peace, as if something that had been troubling him internally had resolved itself, without his knowledge. It was as though that part of his mind had been sealed away.
'A.D.... what is that?' he thought, then suddenly remembered the journal on the ship, and also the cult book. His eyes widened as he began putting the two pieces together.
'It was... for a ritual, wasn't it? The blood of a man so pure he could be considered a priest, yet not a priest.'
"What the hell... is this?" he muttered under his breath.
The golden orb began to drift away, floating deeper into the void of his mind before slowly coming to a halt a short distance ahead. It shimmered, revealing a door. A single door. It was a door made of golden light. Zay stepped forward, swallowing hard as he opened the door.
As he stepped through, he heard the voice of someone old.
"Memories and emotions can be like the winter. Winter can be beautiful, but winter can be cold and become the thing that kills you. Memories will eventually fade. Why hold yourself back, caring so much about a goal that isn't even what your soul wants?"
The voice echoed inside Zay's mind as he found himself in the body of Sable, a past life who lived as a rogue bounty hunter with the Seal known as [Fate's Conqueror]. His dark blue eyes were tired, with bags beneath them, as he looked at himself in a mirror. He wore a black straw hat, all-black clothing, and a black bag slung over his shoulder. He was armed with several weapons. Daggers, a rapier, and items for on-the-go rituals.
Zay tried to speak but couldn't. He was reliving a moment from a past life as himself, but was unable to speak through Sable.
Sable turned to face the old man, and Zay instantly recognized his face. It was the third master of the Demon's Order in the Third Realm. Zay managed to open his Resonance Lens, seeing that it displayed the stats of Razor instead of his own.
[Name]: Sable Rosefield
[Resonance Name]: Demon Bishop
[Current Location]: Third Realm, Demon's Order headquarters, second Cycle of Destruction
[Age]: 43
[Date]: ???
[Sequence]: 7
[Seal]: Fate's Conqueror
Cores:
Aura Core: | Ascendant
Fate's Core: | Bishop
Sable knelt before the master, showing respect before standing. "Why mention memories and emotions?"
The master stared into Sable's eyes for a few quiet seconds. Then the old man chuckled. "It's a reminder, young one. Never allow memories or emotions to control you. If you do, you will never have a clear mind to think for yourself. It is good to care for others, but if you drown in that care, trying to become an image or protect something at the cost of yourself, that is crossing the line. Live your own life, my child. Remember that your goals stand above the expectations others place upon you. Always remember that, even after my death."
As Sable nodded, he turned around, drew a completely black dagger from his bag, and activated [Fate Slash], cutting a diagonal line into the air. He stepped through it, emerging inside a ruined kingdom in search of an ancient item, as the slash vanished a few seconds later.
...
Sable slammed his fist into the earth, activating a Sequence 5 Trait, [Conqueror's Strength] and the world itself seemed to recoil. The ground trembled, then shattered, unable to withstand the force. Sparks of dark blue flickered through the air like lightning veins, dancing wildly within the surging aura that now roared from his body. He gripped the fractured earth with his right hand, twisted his fist to the left, and inhaled deeply.
In that instant, his aura exploded outward, a tempest of dark blue energy that devoured the sky and drowned the ruined kingdom in chaos. Structures cracked and dissolved, shadows writhed, and the very ground was erased from existence, peeled away as if by a force beyond understanding. From the storm's epicenter, massive stairs were revealed, spiraling downward into unseen depths.
Sable began his descent, seven figures appeared from his shadow, each step echoing with thunder, and Zay found himself stepping back once more into the abyss of his mind.