The demons assembled across the battlefield stared at Marco with expressions ranging from confusion to open hostility, the weight of thousands of years searching for an artifact that had apparently been mocking them the entire time."In your right eye," Marco said, his voice carrying somberly across the ruined ground. "In the right eye of every demon race member here. That's where the Sacred Eye has been hiding."A demon soldier near the front laughed, the sound brittle and disbelieving. "Is this some kind of joke? You expect us to mutilate ourselves on your word alone, in the middle of the worst crisis our race has ever faced?""If you want to live," Marco said, "you need to listen to me right now. There isn't time for debate."Thomas, his expression carrying the specific resolve of someone who'd already lost everything that mattered about his identity in the last ten minutes, didn't wait for further discussion.He plucked out his own right eye.The blood-stained eyeball sat in his p

The three spatial rifts closed one by one, swallowing the last of the Beastman retreat, the departing demons under Thomas's new banner, and finally the rift the Sacred Ancestor had opened for himself. When the dust settled across the ruined battlefield, only two figures remained standing on the vast, broken wasteland.Marco, one-eyed and exhausted, blood still drying along the side of his face.And the Holy Ancestor, towering above everything, his lower body still buried in the great plains, his upper half stretching toward clouds that hadn't existed before this morning."Why am I still here?" Marco called up, his voice carrying determination despite his obvious exhaustion. "Everyone else left through their rifts. You opened one for the demons, one for the Beastmen. Why not one for me?"The Holy Ancestor blinked, his massive eyes refocusing as though surfacing from somewhere distant."Ah," he said. "Oh, right. You're still here."Marco's expression flattened. "You forgot about me.""I

The Blood of the Wilderness had always been a peculiar treasure. Its most notable effect, enhancing a user's Bloodline Power with multipliers that bordered on absurd, had made it irresistible the moment merchants discovered its properties. From the beginning, it was extensively exploited. The Sacred Empire and Beastman Empire purchased it in bulk from the Red Nation and beast clans every single year, the trade routes carrying it across dimensions until its tracks touched countless planes. Increasing numbers of people consumed it, chasing the same enhancement, never asking too many questions about where it actually originated.Today became the day all those questions answered themselves at once.Every person who'd ever ingested the Blood of the Wilderness, regardless of quality, regardless of how diluted or how long ago consumed, died sudden and inexplicable deaths. The Blood that had assimilated within them years or decades earlier reemerged from their bodies as if answering some dist

The Imperial City stretched out beyond the Black Guard Dungeon exactly as Marco remembered it, the architecture showing no scars from the Eight Great Families' brief occupation. Under Heide's guidance, they walked through corridors that felt simultaneously familiar and unwelcoming until they reached the Hall of the Phoenix Throne, where Marco had first met Emperor Constantine.Constantine didn't look up when Marco was announced, his attention fixed on a stack of documents spread across his desk, his expression carrying the focused calm of a man with considerably more pressing matters than visitors.Heide leaned toward Marco, his whisper carrying genuine alarm. "You're meant to kneel before His Majesty.""He's not kneeling," Constantine said, without raising his head, "because he's never knelt for me before, and I doubt today's the day he learns the habit." He set down his quill and finally looked up, dismissing Heide and the surrounding guards with a single gesture. "Leave us."Once t

He set both bowls in front of Derek and Heide with the generous hospitality of a man who genuinely enjoyed feeding people.Derek leaned down and sniffed carefully. His alchemy training kicked in immediately, because he straightened back up without touching the spoon, his expression carrying the careful neutrality of someone deciding how to politely decline without causing offense.Heide had no such training. He looked at the friendly old man, looked at the warm soup, and picked up the spoon."Thank you, sir," he said, and took a proper sip.Derek made a small resigned sound and tasted a spoonful of his own.Both men hit the floor within three seconds of each other, the impact of their bodies carrying the heavy finality of complete unconsciousness.Marco looked at them, looked at Julius, and felt absolutely no surprise whatsoever."Long time no see," he said. "Your cooking has improved. No smell at all this time. That's a genuine advancement from where you started. Invisible and instan