"What's wrong with you today, Leon-kun?"
The one who asked was a woman whose beauty carried both elegance and quiet menace—Elmesia El-Ru Sarion, the Heavenly Emperor of the Sorcerer's Dynasty, Sarion.
The one standing before her was, of course, Demon Lord Leon Cromwell.
After Walpurgis had ended, Leon had not returned directly to his golden domain. Instead, he had taken a deliberate detour to Sarion.
"Guy is heading to my territory," Leon said flatly. "I don't have time for pleasantries. I'll be direct."
"You're as impatient as ever," Elmesia replied with a soft smile. "But I suppose I'll indulge you."
The fact that Leon could appear before her without an appointment—and speak to her this bluntly—said more than words ever could. To outsiders, it would have been unthinkable. To those who knew their history, it was natural.
Their relationship predated demon lord titles, heroes, and even destiny itself.
Back when Leon was still wandering the world in search of Chloe, long before he was feared or revered, he had once passed through Sarion. There, he encountered Silvia El'Ru, Elmesia's mother.
Silvia was no ordinary elf.
She was a true high elf, a genius whose theories formed the foundation of modern magic science. But she also carried another truth—she was one of the high elves created by the Divine Ancestor Twilight Valentine, progenitor of vampires.
Silvia was powerful. Terrifyingly so.
Had she fought in the war of that era, Elmesia's father might have lived.
But fate chose otherwise—because at that time, Elmesia was still within Silvia's womb.
Silvia took Leon in as her disciple.
She taught him swordsmanship, magic, discipline—everything she possessed. Leon grew monstrously strong under her guidance. Through that bond, Leon and Elmesia became connected, granted access to one another that only family and the closest allies were allowed.
With Elmesia's approval, Leon finally spoke.
"You've been gathering intelligence."
"Of course," Elmesia admitted without hesitation.
"Then you know about the fall of the Eastern Empire."
"Yes. I followed the movements of the primordials. I even stopped by after the victory celebration."
"And after that?"
Elmesia's expression shifted slightly.
"You mean the battle that followed…? I heard fragments. Velgrynd appeared. Communications were severed. Then everything went silent."
Leon nodded slowly.
"There was chaos. Velgrynd. Rudra. A situation that should have ended in annihilation."
He paused.
"And Atem resolved it."
Elmesia's eyes widened.
"…You're serious?"
Leon did not smile.
"He defeated them. All of them."
Silence fell.
True to his word, Leon summarized what had been discussed at Walpurgis—Michael's ambitions, the manipulation of Dragon Factors, the danger surrounding angelic authority. He concealed little. This was not rumor. This was a request for cooperation.
"I see…" Elmesia murmured at last. "So that's why even you seemed… unsettled."
She exhaled softly.
One sentence echoed in her mind:
He won.
That single statement meant Velgrynd had fallen before Atem.
She had always known Atem was dangerous.
She had never imagined he had become this.
Stronger than Silvia.
Beyond True Dragons.
A being who could command primordials and break divine systems without arrogance.
No wonder the angels hesitated.
No wonder Michael had been erased.
"Leon-kun," Elmesia said carefully, "you're not lying to me, are you?"
"I have no reason to," Leon replied. "I heard it directly from him. I cannot prove it—but I believe it."
Elmesia laughed quietly.
"If someone told me Emperor Rudra had been devoured by his own Skill and erased by a single king, I'd call it nonsense too. Which is exactly why I believe it."
She smiled.
"You trust Atem more than I expected."
"How would you react," Leon countered, "if you were told reality itself bent before him?"
Elmesia had no answer.
Leon's gaze sharpened.
"I've told you everything. Now I need your help."
Elmesia already knew what was coming.
"You want me to contact Mother."
"Yes."
Silvia El'Ru—the greatest mind Sarion possessed.
Leon's former master.
A free spirit who vanished for months, even years, at a time.
As long as Leon possessed Purity King Metatron, he remained a potential target—even with Michael gone. If any residue, any hidden control remained, it had to be severed before the enemy realized what Leon carried.
But contacting Silvia was never simple.
"Magic communication is sealed," Elmesia said. "She appears when she feels like it. If we're unlucky… six months."
Leon did not flinch.
"That will do."
He stood immediately.
"You're leaving already?" Elmesia asked.
"I'm done here."
She watched him turn away, her expression softening.
Such a rigid man.
Always moving forward.
Never resting.
And yet—
Even Leon Cromwell now moved with the shadow of a king at his back.
A king named Atem, ruler of Eterna, bearer of the Pharaoh Dragon Factor—a power older, deeper, and utterly alien to the True Dragons themselves.
Elmesia smiled faintly.
This world really has changed, she thought.
After Leon departed, the quiet of the palace returned—but only on the surface.
Elmesia did not allow herself even a moment to rest.
She summoned the royal guards at once and issued a single, absolute command:
"Initiate an emergency call. Priority level: absolute. Locate Silvia El'Ru."
The guards stiffened. An order like that was not given lightly.
Elmesia exhaled and leaned back against the throne.
"…She's going to hate me for this."
Elmesia and Silvia shared the same face—
perfectly identical in every detail. It was not an illusion, nor magic, but blood and origin. Because of that, they possessed a secret known only to a handful of people: when Silvia desired freedom, Elmesia would take her place as the Heavenly Emperor, and when Elmesia needed to disappear, Silvia would sit upon the throne.
It was how Sarion's ruler had secured something no monarch should ever have—free time.
And Elmesia was about to steal that freedom.
If the situation were reversed, she knew exactly how she would feel. Furious. Annoyed. Completely unwilling.
That was why she could already imagine Silvia's reaction with painful clarity.
But even so, Elmesia did not waver.
"This isn't a matter of convenience," she murmured. "This is something else entirely."
What Leon had brought to her was not a rumor, nor fear-mongering. It was a reality that shook the foundation of the world itself.
Michael erased.
True Dragons defeated.
The King of Eterna, Atem, standing beyond the logic of dragons and gods alike.
Even Guy Crimson—the immovable constant of the frozen world—had agreed to move.
The lord of the permafrost did not leave his domain without reason.
That fact alone spoke volumes.
Elmesia closed her eyes.
This is the first time, she realized, that I've ever felt the world genuinely teeter.
Not politically.
Not magically.
But existentially.
Whatever came next would not be solved by ordinary wisdom.
And if anyone could see through a power that transcended True Dragons—
If anyone could understand a Pharaoh Dragon Factor, unseen and unfelt by all others—
It was Silvia El'Ru.
Elmesia straightened, her melancholy settling into resolve.
"Complain all you want, Mother," she whispered.
"This time, I won't apologize."
Outside the chamber, messengers were already moving.
The gears of Sarion had begun to turn.
And somewhere beyond reason and history itself, the shadow of Atem stretched ever longer across the world.
Five months had passed since Walpurgis.
During that time, many things had happened, yet overall, the world remained strangely peaceful. There were no signs of any large-scale movement from the angelic side.
That was only natural.
Michael was already gone.
Completely erased.
What remained was Feldway, acting independently, along with lingering angelic systems that no longer had a central will to command them.
I was concerned that we had not been able to fully grasp what Feldway and the others were doing, but I chose to look at the situation positively. At the very least, this silence had given us ample time to reinforce our defenses.
And there was another reason I allowed myself to remain calm.
Since that time, I had been trying to get in touch with Dino.
I immediately reached out and spoke directly into Dino's mind.
"Hey. Dino."
The moment my voice reached him, I felt his surprise ripple back through the connection.
"That reaction alone tells me this is working," I thought.
"Atem…?"
"So you recognized me. Good."
This was no trick. From the start, I needed him to understand that I held the initiative.
"…What is this? I'm busy right now."
His discomfort was obvious.
I did not give him room to escape.
"You are influenced by the angelic system Feldway inherited."
"…What?"
As expected, he had not been fully aware.
Dino's inherently lax personality likely prevented complete domination. Without a central will like Michael's, the angelic authority lingering within him had become unstable and inconsistent.
"I'm assuming you possess an angelic-type Ultimate Skill."
"…Heavenly King Astarte."
That confirmed it.
"That explains it. You were being subtly guided, not commanded."
Dino fell quiet.
"I don't feel loyal… but I don't feel hostile either. It's uncomfortable."
That uncertainty worked in our favor.
I explained a hypothesis—carefully.
"If an opposing system exists within you, the interference may cancel itself out. I cannot guarantee it."
I deliberately withheld the deeper mechanics. There was no reason to reveal everything.
"…I'll think about it."
"That's enough. Do nothing else. Remain where you are."
"…That's it?"
"Yes."
If Dino remained inactive, that alone reduced Feldway's effective resources.
"I can do that."
Good.
Before ending the connection, I asked one final question.
"Have you sensed any centralized movement?"
"…No. The angelic system feels fragmented. Feldway is active, but there's no unified command anymore."
That aligned with everything Solarys had calculated.