(Continuing from previous part)

*** At last, they could breathe again.

"Are you okay, honey? Feeling better?" Julend asked softly.

Syl Celia nodded, resting her head against his chest. Her legs, limp and glowing with residual Mana, lay across Guler's lap.

Guler broke the silence with a bemused tone.

"About that… What was that all about? You called me all of a sudden—right in the middle of one of my shifts."

Syl Celia gave him a soft, deliberate smile. "It's fine. I just needed you here."

Julend, still holding the key she had given him earlier, glanced down at it. A gift—an apartment, new and Magical, one Sylia and Syl Celia had arranged for him. His chest swelled with gratitude as he turned the small object in his hand.

Grinning, he held it up. "Can I try it?"

"Of course," Syl Celia replied. "We can go together."

"I can't," Guler cut in. "I've got to get back to my shift."

"No, Guler," she said gently. "You're not going back. Mathias and I have spoken. It's better if you're stationed elsewhere."

Guler stiffened. "What? Did I… do something wrong?"

"You're still trusted. Just not with what's coming next. You'll be taking a sabbatical. We'll cover the costs."

He faltered, visibly shaken, his mind racing.

His mouth opened to speak, but Syl Celia continued, her voice calm.

"Don't look like that. Whatever your mother or aunt did, this isn't because of them. This is not even about your brother who had gone too far this time. This is about you."

However, Guler's hands were already trembling. He knew that wasn't true. He understood now. This was a farewell. He'd made the mistake of carrying those messages, even suspecting what they might contain. For his family's sake, he had bypassed the Slums' security—knowingly.

Syl Celia's expression softened. She reached up, brushing his cheek with the back of her fingers.

"I'll miss you," she whispered. "But don't worry. I'll craft a replacement—one from your blood, and a blessed flower. He won't slack off. He won't betray us."

Julend rose slightly, unease growing behind his eyes.

Syl Celia's voice turned almost gentle, but the edge beneath it was unmistakable.

"That should serve as a warning to any fragment still lingering in Julend—any part tempted to follow your path and give in too easily.

Guler, you were working for Mathias, weren't you? Lucky you. You'll love his Red Crow's Desert Plane. Nothing to eat. Barely anything to drink. You just keep walking until your body gives out… and then your ghost keeps walking, until the last spark of your Soul or Spirit burns out.

Occasionally, a Crow might stop by to keep you company. But you'll still be walking. Always walking.

It's a fitting punishment for those who betray Mathias' trust. He isn't known for patience.

I did try to lessen your punishment, knowing your… circumstances. You had too many strings attached to you like that new, helpful girlfriend of yours—whatever pit she crawled out of. So, Mathias and I compromised.

Your family and that girlfriend will be sent to that Plane to meet you. You'll even have some time to say goodbye to them before they're handed over to the Monsters who specialize in handling traitors and enemies the way they deserve.

And if you're lucky, you might walk in circles long enough to see them again being tortured.

Think of it as a final kindness."

Julend paled. Guler said nothing.

Syl Celia's voice dropped, almost tender with scorn.

"Julend was your friend but you still betrayed him. I arranged our last little tryst so he wouldn't be angry, not even when he finds out you've been working with the one who tried to kill him earlier this morning."

Guler's eyes flickered. His form shifted. Taller, darker. His voice cracked with rage.

"You bitch."

The air split. Invisible hands seized Syl Celia by the throat.

Julend lurched forward, but stopped short.

The body before him dissolved—black slime writhing as it trapped the transformed Guler. Sylia emerged from behind him, her expression radiant with cold satisfaction, an axe in hand. With precise, deliberate strokes, she cut the figure down. Again. And again.

Each slice birthed something new.

Some shapes were perfect mirrors of Guler. Others twisted—mockeries of flesh. One squirming thing looked like a toad. Sylia crushed it beneath her heel.

Syl Celia and Sylia now visibly merged, their form shifting in and out of synch spoke in unison, their voices overlapping with eerie precision.

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"Oh, please. As if I wouldn't recognize you, old boy. You really didn't notice the Dark Doll's layer in this embodiment? Pity. I used quite a few more layers this time. One of them was tailored just for you. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist, God Grafeider."

She smirked, voice thick with contempt.

"Mazeros' Flock really is so fucking stupid. I've told my family more than once. You can literally fuck them into death. Just like I did to you, pulling your essence straight into this shell while you begged for more."

She tilted her head mockingly.

"You never even noticed what I've been doing to the embodiment. You sweet, oblivious thing. Maybe that darling little Turtle's kid is to blame. That kind of power tends to scramble the mind."

Julend stood frozen as two adult versions of Guler were dragged, screaming, through a glowing portal. The rest, the misshapen remnants and other adult versions, were seized by shadowed creatures and devoured slowly.

"Don't ever do that again!" Julend shouted, his voice cracking. "My heart nearly stopped! No wonder you were so sweet today. A Doll? Damn it. Was the key at least real?"

Sylia stepped forward, brushing his cheek with a gentleness that made it all worse.

Sylia caressed his face gently.

"Of course it's real, darling. I didn't use the same Doll. I crafted another Doll just for you—one blessed by an adorable little green Turtle and who shadowed the other one from the start. I was there the whole time for you. Only for you. I skipped the other parts."

Julend's lip quivered.

She smirked. "Didn't I knock him out repeatedly so we could be alone? Don't look so heartbroken. He could've killed you."

Julend nodded, tears streaming freely now. He knew now that parts of their encounter had been nothing more than illusion and he knew exactly which moments weren't real. He had felt it.

(Julend crying)

***

Hours later, Julend was still inconsolable.

They had ended up heading to the apartment Sylia had just gifted him, and he had spent some time there with his brother Kuschiel and Sylia herself. Despite the warmth of their presence, he had yet to forgive the harsh treatment he had received earlier from a woman he loved.

Nursing a lukewarm beer, he brooded over how Sylia and Syl Celia had tricked him. When he had complained about it, Sylia had simply laughed.

Of course, that reaction had upset him. He didn't appreciate her brushing off his feelings with such casual cruelty.

Now that his head had cooled, however, Julend begrudgingly admitted that he probably deserved at least part of the mean treatment. If Master Mathias had learned of the situation before Sylia, his reaction would likely have been far less forgiving. Julend had worked for the man ever since he was old enough to complete basic tasks. So he knew full well how Mathias operated.

In truth, he had been overwhelmed with gratitude when Sylia first brought him to the new building. It had felt unreal seeing such an expensive, well-crafted structure in the middle of the Slums. He had stepped inside with high expectations, and not only had they been met, they had been surpassed. Sylia had truly outdone herself. The place wasn't just wonderful, it was also perfectly compatible with his Mana.

Julend sighed. It was hard to count how many attacks he had endured recently. He hadn't even realized some of them had been coordinated efforts that included Guler, someone he had long considered a good friend.

Sylia had refused to explain everything, only telling him she still needed time to get to the root of the matter.

Guler was merely the tip of the iceberg.

Mathias and his allies were currently under assault.

Sylia's children were no longer the primary targets, not ever since Lord Chester and the Master of Blood Lords had taken action. Ruthless, unforgiving action.

The end of the Kalysto Kingdom and the fate of the Gods who had created it had sent a message to the world's elite and the deities that could no longer be ignored.

Overnight, Danielu, once known as the six-year-old boy who played with toy soldiers and nearly got kidnapped, had become a most feared destroyer.

The world had also learned, decisively, to fear Lord Chester with a force stronger than ever before. And the powerful had been reminded why the Master of Blood Lords commanded such reverence. It was not simply because he held the ultimate power. It was because no one, not even his own children, dared to disappoint him. Those who did suffered fates so horrific, tragedy ballads and fables were later woven from their punishments.

Julend still didn't know the full extent of what had transpired that day, but he knew Mazeros' Flock was involved.

Mazeros, a legendary Supreme God, was notorious among both Mortals and deities. Unlike most Gods, Mazeros hailed from the Outer World and held sway over a significant portion of the Overworld. He belonged to the Flock of a powerful Blood Lord. Something that had made him even more feared and respected in the past.

Rumors had for a long time run wild about him. Some claimed he was a High Lord in his own right, perhaps even the child of the Master of Blood Lords' creation.

Two years ago, Lord Chester had destroyed Mazeros' reputation forever. He had proclaimed that Mazeros was nothing more than a lowly servant who, like the rest of his family, would be erased if he ever dared defy a direct order from Lord Chester.

That statement had been publicly endorsed by the Master of Blood Lords himself, who went even further. He declared Mazeros' parent had once been his pet. One he had gutted with his friends and devoured for sport. As for Lord Chester, while also a pet in his eyes, he was a different matter. "Too dark to digest," he had said, "so much like his father." That father, of course, being the Dark Lord himself who had apparently kept Lord Chester as a pet ever since the latter had adopted his now-famous Chipmuck form.

The Dark Lord had once declared that Chester's new form was far too cute. So much so that he could no longer call Chester his son. After all, his children were supposed to be terrifying and Dark, not adorably cheerful.

Lord Chester had willingly paid this price to become a lovable Lord rather than a feared one. He had accepted this trade with gratitude. His father still treated him like a son, though, even if he now referred to him as pet, mostly for his own amusement.

That revelation, in fact, had been the most shocking. No one had known, back then, that Lord Chester was the Dark Lord's child.

Reflecting on what had transpired two years prior, Julend decided he could let today's incident slide. He had no intention of involving himself in a plot that likely involved a Supreme God such as Mazeros. Had they been up against someone less powerful, Sylia might have included Julend in her plans. However, Mazeros had not only legions of Church followers worshipping him but also many Gods under his command. It would be near impossible to get anywhere near him.

Still, Julend couldn't help but pity Mazeros. If Sylia and her Source ever chose to get involved, they could cause him serious harm. Julend no longer harbored any doubt that Sylia's true Source was something far more ancient and dangerous than she had claimed. Watching Master Mathias and his Bunnies so scared of the Lady had been deeply telling. Mathias was not someone who was easily impressed. This was a man who called the Master of Blood Lords 'the nicest man, dead or alive', and referred to the Dark Lord as 'the sweetest uncle anyone could ever dream of'. Hardly the kind of sentiments one usually heard about the Great Masters.

Julend had found only one explanation for Mathias' reaction. Sylia's Source was older than Mathias', and far more feared. If Julend's theory was correct, then Mazeros, whom Mathias casually dismissed as a lackey who didn't know his place, was in for a world of suffering. Even letting his Flock members roam unchecked would be a grave offense in Sylia's eyes. Julend could only hope that the Lord would find enough excuses, and offer enough compensation, to earn the forgiveness of the merciless woman's Source.

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