Location: Valerius Capital - The Grand Cathedral Depths
Midnight draped the Capital City in a heavy, uneasy silence. Deep within the Blackstone cells of the Grand Cathedral, the torches flickered weakly, struggling against the mana-draining atmosphere.
General Vane hung from the ceiling, his massive frame suspended by Lucius’s glowing, anti-magic chains. His eyes were closed, his breathing shallow. The absolute silence of the cell was meant to break the mind, but Vane was simply waiting.
Suddenly, the pool of darkness directly beneath Vane’s boots began to ripple. It defied the flickering torchlight, bubbling like thick, black tar.
"You're late," Vane murmured, his voice a dry, exhausted rasp. He didn't even open his eye.
"Oh, don't be so dramatic, General," a melodic, terrifyingly cheerful voice echoed from the floor.
A pale hand holding the shaft of a massive bone scythe emerged from the darkness. Crimson Scarlet, the Abyssal Reaper, gracefully rose out of Vane’s own shadow. She brushed off her gothic dress, her glowing crimson eyes scanning the oppressive cell. She hadn't teleported away during the battle at the Northern Fortress; the moment she shattered the air, she had seamlessly slipped into the absolute darkest point on the battlefield—the shadow of the colossal traitor himself.
"These chains are utterly grotesque," Scarlet pouted, poking one of the golden, holy links. The anti-magic runes hissed, but Scarlet’s abyssal energy was a pure, concentrated conceptual death that the chains couldn't easily suppress. "Sylas and I couldn't just let the Church's little pet eliminate our favorite Vanguard. We have too much work left to do."
She lazily spun The Soul Reaper in her hands. With a sharp, terrifyingly fast arc, she struck the chains holding Vane's wrists. The collision of pure holy magic and absolute death conceptualization triggered a muted shockwave. The unbreakable chains shattered into glowing dust.
Vane dropped to the stone floor, catching himself on one knee. He rubbed his raw, blistered wrists. "The Fortress is lost. What are the Sovereign's orders?"
Scarlet's manic smile faded into something far more serious. "That is the problem, Vane. We don't have orders."
Vane looked up, his remaining eye narrowing. "Explain."
"The Demon Lord’s existence... it vanished," Scarlet whispered, her crimson eyes darkening. "A few days ago, the absolute suppression aura radiating from the Outland Dungeon island completely disappeared from the global registry. The lesser demons are in a panic. Some say the Sovereign finally passed away. Others say she simply returned to her original realm."
Vane froze, his massive shoulders tensing. "Returned? But the dimensional gates..."
"We all knew she never truly belonged to this world, Vane," Scarlet interrupted, her voice entirely devoid of its usual playfulness. "Whatever she was, she wasn't a demon forged of this Abyss."
Before Vane could process the sheer magnitude of this revelation, the heavy iron door of the cell block groaned. Rapid, armored footsteps echoed down the corridor, accompanied by a wave of suffocating holy pressure.
"Lucius," Vane growled, reaching for a weapon he didn't have.
"Time to go," Scarlet giggled, the manic energy returning instantly. She grabbed Vane’s collar, her scythe tearing a rift in the spatial fabric of the cell.
A split second later, the iron door was violently blasted off its hinges. Lucius stepped into the cell, his celestial blue eyes scanning the space. Behind him, a dozen Cathedral Guards stood with spears leveled.
But they were too late. The cell was empty. Only the shattered fragments of divine gold remained on the Blackstone floor.
"Search the perimeter. Lock down the Capital," Lucius ordered, his voice an emotionless, chilling flatline. "I will inform the Crown."
Location: The Royal Hall - Valerius Castle
An hour later, the grand court of Valerius was in an uproar. The King, Queen, Dukes, and High Cardinals stood around the massive gilded war table, listening to the impossible report.
Lucius stood at the center, completely unfazed by the collective panic of the ruling class.
Every noble and clergyman in the room knew the truth: Lucius should have executed Vane in the courtyard the moment they arrived. The delay was a catastrophic tactical error. Yet, as the Dukes sweated and the King gripped his throne, nobody dared to say a single word of reprimand. To question the Chosen One was to question the Goddess Kamiya herself.
The only authority figure within the International Church capable of ordering Lucius, the Supreme Grand Cardinal, was currently stationed across the ocean on the Western Continent. Until his return, Lucius operated with terrifying, unchecked autonomy.
Location: Floor 1 Island - The Outland Dungeon
Far from the political turmoil of the human kingdoms, the night air over the uncharted island was filled with the rhythmic ringing of a blacksmith's hammer.
A warm, crackling campfire illuminated the sandy beach. Sofia Vileblood sat gracefully on a smooth piece of driftwood, her chin resting in her hand as she watched Cain work. The dark-suited teenager was a blur of motion, utilizing [Absolute Gluttony] to smelt, compress, and forge raw materials directly from his inventory.
The silence of the beach was suddenly broken by a highly un-demonic sound.
Gurgle.
Sofia stiffened. She immediately crossed her legs and looked away toward the ocean, desperately hoping the sound of the crashing waves had masked the betrayal of her own stomach.
A moment later, the ringing of the hammer stopped. Cain walked over, a plate forged of compressed iron in his hand. Sizzling upon it were thick, perfectly seared cuts of orc meat, glazed in a savory, aromatic sauce he had synthesized from island berries and herbs.
"Eat," Cain said, sitting beside her and handing over the plate.
<Host,> Nova’s voice echoed smugly in his mind.
<You could have allowed me to synthesize a perfectly nutritious, flavor-optimized paste in 0.4 seconds. Yet you spent forty-five minutes manually balancing the thermal heat of the fire to sear the meat. Are you attempting to vaunt your culinary proficiency?>
Shut up, Nova. It’s called being civilized, Cain shot back internally.
He had survived his isolated teenage years on Earth by cooking. The kind Auntie from the dormitory had taught him how to make a cheap cut of meat taste like a luxury meal. He wasn't about to let an AI replace the one thing he was genuinely proud of.
Sofia looked down at the steaming meat. Her violet eyes literally sparkled for a fraction of a second, but she quickly masked it with a haughty, aristocratic sniff. "I suppose I require sustenance to maintain this physical vessel. It will do."
She took a bite. The flavor exploded on her tongue. She didn't say another word, but the speed at which the orc meat vanished from the plate spoke volumes.
Cain watched her eat, leaning back on his hands. Slowly, Sofia’s eyelids grew heavy. The overwhelming exhaustion of the past three days caught up to her, and she slumped sideways, falling deeply asleep against the warmth of the fire.
Cain sighed. He stood up, walking over to the pile of freshly woven hemp canvas intended for the ship's sails. He cut a large, soft section and gently draped it over the slumbering Demon Lord, tucking it around her shoulders.
He stared at her peaceful face. The history books in the Vanguard library painted her as humanity's creepiest, most bloodthirsty nightmare. But looking at her now, Cain just saw a victim of the System.
[Target Status: Entity Sofia Vileblood]
[Ultimate Skill: Immortal]
[Curse Condition: Eternal Loneliness]
To live forever while everyone else withered away. It was a curse he understood entirely too well.
Location: Floor 1 Island - Dawn
When the first rays of the morning sun crested the horizon, Sofia woke up. She pushed the heavy canvas blanket off her shoulders, rubbing her eyes. Then, she looked toward the shoreline and her breath hitched.
Resting in the shallow waters was an absolute marvel of engineering.
The Iron Leviathan. It wasn't overly massive, but it was sleek, dangerous, and brilliantly constructed. The hull was shaped from incredibly dense, magically compressed oak, plated in overlapping sheets of riveted wrought iron. Midships sat a heavy cast-iron boiler engine, gleaming with polished brass pipes and pressure gauges. Two tall, sturdy oak masts rose from the deck, rigged with pristine white hemp sails to catch the ocean winds, supplementing the rear screw propeller.
Cain was sitting on the gangplank, a wrench dangling from his hand. He had terrifyingly dark, bruised-looking bags under his eyes.
"You didn't sleep," Sofia said, walking over to him.
"I tried," Cain yawned, rubbing his temple. "But we needed to set sail. So I let Nova temporarily hijack my motor functions. I slept in my own mind while my body kept riveting iron plates. It feels like a massive hangover, but the ship is done."
Sofia looked at the ship, then back to the exhausted boy. Her haughty facade cracked entirely. She offered a soft, deeply sincere smile. "I am genuinely impressed, Cain. And... thank you. For the meal yesterday. And the blanket."
Before Cain could brush off the praise, the heavy stone doors of the Outland Dungeon groaned open behind them.
Both of them spun around, Cain instantly manifesting a dark blade.
Stepping out of the shadows was a tall, imposing figure wearing an impeccable, high-society tailcoat. He had slicked-back obsidian hair and eyes that glowed with a faint, demonic purple hue.
"Sebastian?" Sofia asked, genuinely surprised.
Sebastian bowed low, his right hand over his heart. He was a high-level Demon aristocrat, the entity who had ruled as the Floor 100 Boss for centuries before Sofia’s arrival forcefully usurped him.
"My Lady," Sebastian spoke, his voice smooth as silk. "When the dungeon realized you had departed, the lower floors devolved into absolute anarchy. I have no interest in ruling over mindless beasts. If you would permit it, I wish to continue serving as your shadow."
Sofia glanced at Cain. This was his ship, his escape plan.
Cain looked the demon up and down, sizing up his magical density. "Can you make coffee?"
Sebastian blinked. "I am versed in all manner of culinary and domestic arts, sir."
"You're hired," Cain nodded immediately. "But hide the purple eyes and demonic aura. We're going into human territory."
Sebastian smiled thinly. His form shimmered, the demonic pressure vanishing entirely, leaving behind the perfect picture of a stern, human gentleman butler.
"Where exactly are we heading, Captain?" Sebastian asked, adjusting his cuffs.
"East, across the Azure Ocean," Cain said, turning to look at the massive steamship. "To the Sunderland Nation. The library on Floor 100 had records indicating the Sunderland Cathedral possesses ancient ties directly to the God Realm."
Cain's golden-ringed eyes narrowed, a dangerous smirk forming on his tired face. "It's time we do a little research on the Goddess Kamiya."
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