The continent woke hung-over on love and victory.
At 08:00 the sky turned champagne-gold for the second time in twelve hours.
Every crystal orb replayed the Succubus's death in glorious 360°: five silhouettes, twenty wings, one supernova of rose-gold butterflies.
The new constellation—THE FEAST—hung above the academy like a wedding ring forged from Jonathan's nightmares.
Students poured into the streets wearing nothing but the living bracelets and grins sharp enough to cut glass.
Dragons looped the spires, trailing banners that read:
JEALOUSY IS DEAD.
LONG LIVE THE FAMILY.
In the Grand Atrium, the map table had become a banquet island.
Someone had transmuted the war-room floor into black glass polished to mirror sheen.
Every footstep reflected the new constellation overhead.
Arya stood at the island's heart, wings unfurled, gold butterfly crown blazing.
Alexander's Tier-9 storm-runes cast cobalt shadows across her bare shoulders.
Cassia's ember-rose belly glowed like a second sunrise.
Liora's diamond necklace chimed with every laugh.
Sable—newly solid, bronze skin gleaming—stood at Arya's right, shadow wings folded like a cloak.
Anthony Felix passed out vanilla lattes in mugs shaped like tiny phoenixes.
Gilgamesh blurred in circles, leaving golden echoes that spelled PARTY in every language.
Nyxara juggled Nyxael's brass jar like a champagne bottle.
The Choir children floated overhead, six tiny mouths open in a chord that made the champagne sing.
SYSTEM (velvet voice, inside every skull):
"Continent-wide love buff: 71 hours remaining.
Jealousy debuff: deleted.
Warning: Jonathan just lost his best toy.
He's building a new one.
Spy network ping: 17 shadow clones inbound.
ETA: sunset."
Arya raised her mug.
"To the family that ate a Succubus for breakfast."
The atrium roared.
────────────────────────
The Celebration
The feast unfolded in seven courses of pure chaos:
1. Oyster nebulae that melted into vanilla thunder.
2. Dragon-heart tartare that beat in time with desire.
3. Peaches sliced so thin you tasted the exact moment you first wanted someone.
4. Chocolate forged in the crucible of the Succubus's dying scream.
5. Liquid starlight that tasted like Sable's first real breath.
6. Ember-rose cupcakes baked inside Cassia's coal tattoos.
7. Diamond snowflakes that melted into peppermint kisses on the tongue.
Between courses, the harem danced on air.
Alexander spun Arya until gravity forgot its job.
Liora and Cassia braided ice and fire into a swing that rocked above the crowd.
Sable shadow-danced with Gilgamesh, leaving trails of bronze and gold that spelled REDEEMED.
Every kiss granted +1 level.
Every orgasm granted +3.
By dessert, the entire campus was Level 150 and climbing.
────────────────────────
The Pillow-Talk War Council
At 14:00 the feast paused.
Sable stepped onto the banquet island, shadow wings flaring.
She kissed the black glass floor.
Seventeen shadow clones detached from the reflections (Jonathan's spies, frozen mid-sneak).
Sable's bronze fingers traced their throats.
"Pillow-talk," she said, voice raw velvet.
"Every moan you recorded, every secret you stole—now becomes ours."
She kissed the nearest clone.
The clone melted into liquid shadow that poured across the glass, becoming a living map:
- Jonathan's floating fortress, cloaked in stolen orgasms.
- Seventeen spy nests hidden in dorm pillows.
- A new beast womb pulsing in the void—Tier-10, unborn, hungry.
Arya traced the fortress with one finger.
"Library dust," she murmured.
"Turns out it's flammable."
She kissed the map.
The floating fortress caught fire in real time—gold flames visible on every crystal orb.
Jonathan's scream echoed across the continent.
────────────────────────
The Redemption Toast
Sable raised her mug.
"To the girl who fell through a shelf," she said, eyes on Arya, "and taught shadows how to burn."
She drank.
The shadow map solidified into a bracelet of living bronze that wrapped around every wrist in the atrium.
SYSTEM:
"Spy network neutralized.
Reward: permanent shadow-comms channel.
Side effect: Jonathan just lost 17 eyes.
He's blind and pissed.
Bonus: campus-wide hangover immunity.
Drink up."
The atrium roared again.
────────────────────────
The Sunset Beast
At 17:00 the sky bled violet.
A rift tore open above the academy.
Jonathan's counter-beast stepped through (Tier-10 Grief Wraith, stitched from every tear the continent had ever shed).
It opened its mouth.
The bracelets burned.
Cassia's ember-rose belly dimmed.
Liora's diamond necklace cracked.
Alexander's Tier-9 crown flickered.
Arya kissed the air.
A gold butterfly crown detonated into a shield of living light.
"Round two," she roared.
────────────────────────
Phase One: The Tears
The Wraith wept black glass tears that became chains.
They wrapped around ankles, wrists, throats.
Memories poured out:
- Velira turning to dust.
- Nyxael's head rolling.
- Twenty-one days of coffin silence.
Sable's shadow wings froze.
She dropped to her knees.
"I was his spy," she whispered.
"I deserve this."
Arya landed beside her.
She kissed Sable's tears.
The tears turned gold.
The chains shattered.
SYSTEM:
"Grief debuff: 44%.
Reward: tears now grant +5 levels per memory cleansed.
Current memory tally: 4,237.
Keep crying."
────────────────────────
Phase Two: The War-Dance
The harem moved as one.
Alexander spun storm-runes into a cyclone.
Cassia rode the cyclone, coal wings blazing.
Liora surfed the tears, ice whip carving runes.
Sable shadow-danced through the chains, bronze blades singing.
They flew into the Wraith's mouth.
Not to fight.
To dance.
Arya kissed the darkness first (soft, deliberate, tasting of every forgiven sin).
Alexander followed, lightning in her hair.
Cassia kissed the tears—coal brands that burned "FAMILY."
Liora kissed the chains—ice that froze "GRIEF" solid.
Sable kissed the tongue—shadow that tasted of every redeemed moan.
The Wraith screamed.
Not in pain.
In release.
Its body unraveled into a billion black glass butterflies that swarmed upward, became a new constellation: six lovers, wings entwined, mouths open in mid-dance.
The Wraith's core—a single white pearl—fell into Sable's palm.
Inside: Jonathan's laughter.
Sable crushed it.
The campus roared.
────────────────────────
The Dawn After
They woke tangled on the banquet island, wings draped like blankets, champagne cooling on their skin.
The new constellation—THE DANCE—burned above: six lovers, eternal.
Sable's bronze bracelet pulsed with the others.
Cassia's ember-rose belly glowed softly.
Liora's diamond necklace had reformed, now braided with shadow thread.
Alexander's Tier-9 crown nested in Arya's hair, purring.
SYSTEM:
"Tier-10 Grief Wraith defeated.
Loot: grief permanently deleted from continent.
Reward: +20 levels for every participant.
Current tally—Arya 158, Alexander Tier-9 (135), Cassia 136, Liora 139, Sable 121.
Everyone else +20.
P.S. The sunset is officially married."
Arya traced the new constellation above (six lovers, eternal).
She smiled (slow, sharp, eternal).
"Jonathan just lost his second-best weapon," she said.
Sable laughed, voice raw from screaming.
"Let him come.
We'll dance on his grave."
Far away, Jonathan felt the new constellation brand itself across his stolen halo.
He smiled (small, sharp, terrified).
And somewhere in the void, the next beast began to wake.
But for now, the campus was warm, the champagne was cold, and six lovers with brand-new wings learned how to fall upward into a future that hadn't been written yet.
The war had learned a new dance.
And its first step was:
Together.