Kulmar was right.
Urillia had never come to Talagra for the people.
The poisoned citizens, the riots, the religious unrest — all of it had been secondary. Noise. Smoke.
Her true objective had always been the Sage.
Because within the empire of Azel, a quieter, far more dangerous war was unfolding.
⸻
The Emperor's children were no longer children.
The current heir, the second prince Caius Azel, was a name spoken with caution across the capital. Brilliant. Ruthless. A military tactician capable of reshaping borders with a single campaign. He had the unwavering loyalty of the Black Knights and the iron grip of the Azel military behind him. Many feared him. Just as many believed he was exactly what the empire needed.
His sister, the second princess Varia Azel, was the opposite.
Warm. Merciful. A ruler who valued lives over conquest. The common people adored her. The nobles? Less so. Compassion did not command armies.
And power, in Azel, was measured in blades.
Varia's influence within the Bureau and Intelligence Department was thin. She lacked the military backbone that Caius wielded so effortlessly. If she were ever to sit upon the Great Throne, she would need alliances powerful enough to counterbalance the prince's war machine.
That was where Urillia came in.
The third princess.
The Cold One.
She had chosen her side long ago.
If Varia was the light, Urillia would become the shadow that shielded it.
She would gather leverage. Secrets. Weapons.
Even if it meant staining her hands.
Even if it meant playing the villain.
The Sage Fionalla had been more than a legend. She had been influence. Knowledge. A force strong enough to tip scales inside the empire.
With the Sage gone, Urillia's original purpose in Talagra had crumbled.
Yet she could not leave.
Not now.
Not when abandoning one of Azel's greatest cities would fracture public trust.
Not when she had just confirmed something far more dangerous—
A traitor existed within the empire's upper circle.
Someone feeding information to the Black Guild.
Someone close enough to know her movements.
That alone made Talagra worth staying for.
Kulmar watched her carefully, amusement dancing behind his glasses.
"I'm interested in what you'll do now, Princess," he said lightly. "So consider this a small gift."
His shadow twisted unnaturally.
"I'll let you live... for freeing the Noctyrix."
Urillia's golden eyes snapped downward.
The cocoon shattered.
The sound was not loud — but it felt like the sky itself had cracked.
Fragments of hardened blood and shadow exploded outward.
Latriys' small body hung suspended for a moment—
Then black liquid began to pour from her skin.
Not blood.
Not shadow.
Something thicker.
Something ancient.
It spilled like a ruptured ocean, flooding across the garden steps, devouring flowers, dissolving stone, seeping into the cracks of Talagra's foundation.
The air grew heavy.
Cold.
Oppressive.
Leon stumbled back.
"What the hell is that—?!"
Amira's phoenix seal flared violently in response, sparks tearing across her spear as if instinctively rejecting the darkness.
Asuma stood frozen.
Latriys' body trembled midair.
Her eyes opened.
Not red.
Not black.
But an endless abyss.
The black liquid surged higher, forming tendrils around her like wings made of night.
From beneath the flood, something vast stirred.
A presence.
Not just powerful.
Primordial.
Kulmar adjusted his glasses, smiling faintly.
"There she is."
The ground beneath Talagra cracked.
In the streets below, citizens screamed as the poison reversed direction, rising upward like veins reconnecting to a heart.
Back in the garden, Urillia's Draak Eyes widened.
For the first time since arriving in Talagra—
She looked uncertain.
Not because she feared death.
But because she understood something far worse.
They had not just unleashed a demon.
They had awakened a calamity.
Amira felt it first.
That shift.
That wrongness.
She abandoned the fight with the imitation Kulmar and flashed to Urillia's side, grabbing her arm just as the false pillar flickered.
"Wait—" Amira's eyes widened.
The Kulmar they had been fighting dissolved into loose shadow.
A clone.
They had never been facing the real one.
Asuma surged forward toward the shattered cocoon, flames roaring along his blade.
"Latriys!"
But the sea of black liquid churned violently, rising like a tidal wall and hurling him back. The substance was neither water nor shadow—it carried weight, will, hunger.
Then it happened.
An oppressive aura exploded outward.
It pressed against their lungs, their bones, their very souls.
It felt ancient.
It felt wrong.
It felt—
On par with Camellia.
The broken cocoon trembled.
And a scream tore through the air.
It was not human.
It was not beast.
It was something in between.
The sound ruptured eardrums and cracked stone. Windows across Talagra shattered simultaneously.
From the writhing sea of darkness, she rose.
No—
It rose.
Lyra's small frame had been devoured and reforged. Her body was elongated, fused with the Noctyrix's essence. Shadows coiled around her like living armor. Multiple crimson eyes blinked open across her torso and shoulders, staring in different directions at once.
Her hair had become a mass of twisting black tendrils, writhing independently as though tasting the air.
Two jagged horns curved upward from her skull.
Her face….
Almost blank.
Except for those red, bloodshot eyes.
The Noctyrix hovered above the flooded garden and slowly turned her gaze toward Talagra.
For a brief second—
There was hesitation.
A flicker.
Then her mouth opened.
Dark energy condensed within it.
"Stop—!" Asuma shouted.
Too late.
A beam erupted.
It wasn't just light.
It was annihilation.
It tore through the sky and erased half the city.
Buildings vaporized. Towers collapsed. Thousands were swallowed in an instant, leaving only scorched silhouettes burned into the earth.
The shockwave alone flattened entire districts.
Smoke and screams rose together.
Asuma, Amira, Leon, and Urillia stood frozen.
One attack.
Half a city.
"Beautiful," Kulmar murmured, watching the destruction with genuine admiration.
His glasses reflected the burning skyline.
"This should be enough. You're still not fully recovered. There isn't much demonic aura in the human lands." He adjusted his sleeve calmly. "For now, let's return to Noir."
He spoke to her like a master addressing a weapon.
But something changed.
The red eyes turned.
Slowly.
Toward him.
Kulmar paused.
Shadows beneath the Noctyrix twisted unnaturally.
Then—
CRACK.
Black spikes erupted from her body.
They shot forward without warning.
One.
Two.
Ten.
They impaled Kulmar clean through the chest and abdomen.
Blood spilled from his mouth.
His glasses cracked.
"Wha...t..."
The trio stared in shock.
The monster he had freed did not kneel.
Did not obey.
The Noctyrix descended slowly until she stood before him, towering and grotesque.
Her many red eyes narrowed.
A distorted voice layered with multiple tones echoed from her mouth.
"You... are not him."
Kulmar's lips curled faintly despite the blood pouring down his chin.
"So you can still distinguish..."
The spikes twisted inside him.
His shadow writhed violently, trying to regenerate, trying to detach.
But the Noctyrix's darkness was purer.
Older.
"Only... the Monarch commands me."
With a violent motion, the spikes expanded—
And Kulmar's body exploded into a storm of shadow fragments.
Silence followed.
The garden was no longer a garden.
Talagra was no longer whole.
The Noctyrix lifted her head and inhaled deeply, absorbing the fear, the despair, the demonic residue saturating the air.
Her aura swelled.
The sky above darkened further.
Leon swallowed hard.
"...She just killed a Pillar."
Amira's phoenix seal flared wildly.
Urillia's Draak Eyes trembled for the first time.
Asuma stared at the towering demon who had once been a girl that played beside a lake.
"Latriys..." he whispered.
One of her many red eyes shifted.
And locked onto him.
The oppressive aura intensified.
Not hostile.
Not yet.
But aware.
And somewhere deep within that abyss—
Something recognized her.