In the dark realm, things were moving very differently.
Erymas paced in a waiting room that was anything but appropriate for guests. With Elyka making him wait, fury began to simmer behind his eyes. His mind spun through millions of attack plans — strategies of chaos and slaughter.
He paced the room for what felt like hours.
Just as he was about to scream, "Where is she?!" — the door creaked open.
One of Elyka's children entered.
A Dark Prince.
Composed. Voice calm.
> "Mother is expecting you. What you asked for is ready."
At those words, Erymas bolted out of the room without hesitation.
---
Inside, Elyka stood waiting.
From the ground before her, a massive bowl of molten liquid slowly rose, steam hissing around it like the breath of a slumbering beast.
Elyka looked up, smirking at the approaching false prince and the silent Erymas behind him.
> "Come, come… what you wanted is ready."
Without flinching, she plunged her hand into the scalding liquid.
A gruesome hiss echoed.
Her skin cracked, but she didn't even blink.
Then, with a small, serrated blade, she sliced her forearm and let her blood flow into the bowl — far more than Erymas expected.
He watched, disturbed yet captivated.
Elyka took her time, swirling the mixture before slowly pouring it into small, round bombs — open-topped spheres with a deep, pulsing glow.
> Erymas (cautiously):
"How long do these give me… before I die?"
She grinned. Almost laughed.
> Elyka:
"About a minute. But it has to hit all of them. Especially Muzan and Vercurius. Their healing might be fast enough to purge it — if they don't take the full dose."
Erymas's face fell — subtly.
> Elyka (smirking):
"No worries. It gives you just enough time to disappear.
All you need to do is bring me their blood.
That's it. No heroics."
Silence.
Then suddenly — Erymas laughed.
Ugly. Deep. Crooked.
The kind of laugh that makes fire feel cold.
Elyka glanced at the ancient clock above, then said with gleaming delight:
> "Your initiation begins soon. You wouldn't want to be late.
If they don't see you, they'll think something's wrong."
---
Erymas strapped the gear to his body with mechanical precision.
No hesitation. No questions.
Every step forward — silent, focused.
He was heading straight for the heart of Shiora, alone.
Just as he passed through the threshold, Elyka called out one last time:
> "Don't forget to send our regards."
Behind her, the chamber filled with monsters, shadows, and whispering beasts…
...and every one of them began to laugh.