4th Day of the 2nd Earth Cycle[1], 2000, g.c.
The carriage rolled down Talasi's black asphalt beneath the late morning sun, wooden wheels clattering against a road too smooth for something that old-fashioned. That contrast probably told Kairos and the others everything they needed to know. Talasi was still country. Still southern. Still full of folks who could curse, cook, and fight. But now our streets were smooth enough to make noble cities sweat through their robes.
Glynis sat inside the carriage with her legs crossed and her posture relaxed, but her eyes missed nothing. Her white-reddish hair swayed across her face whenever the carriage bumped along, brushing against the soft turquoise fabric of her dress. Compared to the dull, dark brown cloaks covering Kairos, Charles, Cecil, and Frost, my aunt looked like somebody had dropped a splash of summer into a box of old secrets. Each of them sat in his own little world, wrapped in private thoughts, old memories, and subtle tension.
Frost remained silent with his face turned toward the city outside. He sat with his arms crossed, still as a knife left in ice. The white skeleton design of his mask faced the window, and the morning light slid over its carved surface, making the hollow eye shapes look colder than they should have. He didn't look curious like the others. Didn't look impressed. He looked like a man watching a country from behind a wall he had no intention of lowering. That was probably the first sign that this reunion was gonna be complicated as hell.
Charles, on the other hand, remained in total awe of the town's infrastructure. The older Oni had his head halfway out the carriage window like a kid seeing fireworks for the first time. His indigo horns caught the sunlight while he looked at the clean roadwork, the reinforced buildings, the mana streetlights, the organized market lanes, and the way the side paths connected without making the city feel cramped.
"These roads connect clean into the side lanes," Charles muttered. "No wasted turns. No choke points. Whoever planned this understood movement."
He kept muttering about how genius the layout was, how practical the roads were, how neat the structure felt without losing the soul of the town. A few people walking along the street glanced up, saw colored horns hanging out of a carriage window, and damn near froze where they stood.
That was fair.
In Talasi, colored Oni horns had become associated with me real quick. A couple of citizens whispered to each other, squinting as if they had just seen the Demon Lord somehow age forty years and decide to ride coach. One woman carrying a basket of fruit blinked twice, then bowed anyway, just in case. Respectful confusion is still respect.
Cecil continued to drink in silence as he drove the carriage in place of Kairos. The Simian sat up front with the reins in one hand and his bottle of baijiu in the other, guiding the horses with the relaxed skill of someone who had done this through worse roads and rougher moods. The breeze moved through his fur beard in pleasant strokes, and even the horses seemed to enjoy the softness of Talasi's air. It wasn't thick and harsh like certain mana-rich countries, where every breath felt like inhaling someone else's spell residue. Talasi's mana had a cleaner feel now, warmer and more settled, like the land itself had been freshly washed and was still drying under the sun.
Kairos noticed Glynis's gaze lingering on Frost. My aunt barely tried to hide it, but she wasn't as subtle as she thought. Her eyes kept flicking toward that mask, sharpening for half a second before returning to the road ahead. Kairos cleared his throat softly, choosing the polite violence of small talk before the carriage turned into an emotional hostage situation.
"Lady Glynis, I'm sure you remember Chief Charles Mayonaka and Lord Cecil DàShèng."
Glynis's attention shifted toward Charles first, and a genuine smile softened her face.
"I could never forget my mother's favorite card game partner. It's been a while, Mr. Charles."
Charles laughed from the window and finally pulled himself back inside, though his eyes still kept wandering toward the city like he was scared it might change again if he stopped watching.
"A forced vacation took me away, but I'm glad to be back. I see you've been keeping well."
"And Master Cecil," Glynis said, turning toward the front of the carriage, "what brings you back to this side of the world?"
Cecil took another sip from his baijiu before answering, his tail swaying loosely around his waist.
"The explosion of the planet Trappist, and a constant request from the doctor there."
Kairos chuckled, his eyes bright with quiet amusement.
"It didn't take you long to make your journey west from Junji."
Cecil didn't bother replying with words. He simply lifted the bottle again, took another drink, and let the silence do the rest. Some men had whole speeches inside them. Cecil apparently had liquor.
Glynis's eyes quickly cut across to the masked man sitting on the other side of Kairos. Frost didn't even look in her direction. He kept his face turned toward the city outside, arms crossed, posture unmoving. That might've worked on strangers. It damn sure wasn't about to work on my aunt.
"Even with that stupid mask, you can't hide who you are... Frost Mayonaka."
The carriage kept moving.
The wheels knocked against the asphalt. The horses snorted. Somewhere outside, a vendor called out prices for fresh bread and fruit. Frost gave her nothing at first. That silence stretched long enough to become rude on purpose, bouncing off the carriage walls and settling between them like cold fog. Then a quiet sigh slipped from behind his mask.
"You're looking healthy, Glynis."
He said it without turning from the window.
Glynis's mouth tightened.
"You're late to your son's birthday."
Frost gave no answer. His thumb shifted once against his sleeve. That was all the guilt he allowed his body to confess.
That lack of response only mildly irritated my aunt, which meant she was probably two bad sentences away from choosing violence. She had always carried a poor liking for my father's absence, often calling him a deadbeat and no good whenever his name came up. Glynis was big on family. Not fake-family talk either. Real "fight you and still love you" family. Frost's cold attitude toward his parental duty instantly put him on the wrong side of her. They were truly fire and ice whenever near each other, and the carriage was too small for that temperature war.
Kairos, noticing the tension building, decided to interject and attempt to change the subject. The man had the face of someone steering a teacup away from a cliff.
"So... Lady Glynis, how is that brown Tengu guy you were interested in, doing? The buff fellow with the scarlet wings. You two seemed inseparable back in Xanadu."
Glynis eased her burning stare off Frost and returned her attention to Kairos. The shift in her expression was small, but the hurt under it was impossible to miss.
"My love, Shukaku, was killed during the coup attempt by the Illuminati of Velonica last month. One of the many casualties, as the Kingdom of Madness also launched an assault on the city that same day."
For once, my aunt's voice didn't swing like a blade. It lowered, careful around the name like grief still had sharp edges. The carriage's mood dropped like somebody had opened a trapdoor beneath it. Kairos's smile faded with quiet respect.
"Oh? My condolences."
Charles folded his arms, his earlier excitement dimming into a harder expression.
"Those harlots in Madness are known for being bullies. A lot of Human empires appear to carry that trait."
Glynis looked out at the city through the carriage window, watching people move through rebuilt streets that had nearly become graves.
"If not for my son and my nephews, Talasi would have been completely flattened. The paladins from Madness, nor the Illuminati, could stand against our clan when they arrived."
Kairos went quiet at that. His thoughts reached backward to the last time he assisted Mary Magdala in Madness, and the Saint Disciples' return in defeat suddenly connected to the same event Glynis described. The doctor had lined up puzzle pieces without making noise, but even the quiet realization weighed a lot when the picture got ugly.
Cecil guided the carriage into a slower turn, his voice calm but more focused.
"An attack last month-cycle? It doesn't look like they were successful."
Glynis gave a short shake of her head.
"That's wrong, Master Cecil. The city only looks like this now thanks to the efforts of my nephew."
She pointed ahead through the front window.
"Make a left on the next street."
Cecil tugged the reins gently, guiding the horses around the corner. The carriage rolled onto a wider road lined with newly reinforced buildings, magisteel fixtures, and grass beds planted along the black asphalt. People stepped aside with curiosity, watching the strange group pass while pretending not to stare. Talasi folks were nosy as hell, but we did have manners on occasion.
Kairos studied the buildings as they passed, his green eyes tracing the magickal infrastructure with increasing interest.
"To create such an update in Talasi's appearance in such a short amount of time is something reminiscent of the days of Ghost Gum and Mike Jaxon. You don't see that broad use of magick anymore."
Charles glanced toward him.
"You think we're dealing with magick of that level?"
Cecil's ears twitched as he kept the horses steady.
"Yeah, Mike Jaxon was the greatest Artist to ever exist. Even Ghost Gum and Kneon Sky complain about never getting a chance to defeat him."
Charles rubbed his chin, still looking at the city.
"Maybe he's just good with creation magick. Like a magician. They're terrible in fights."
Cecil took another drink, then lowered the bottle slightly.
"You could be right. Still, if they were able to handle Madness's Saint Disciples, then they at least have to be S-Class in Combat Rating."
Glynis's pride showed before she opened her mouth. It lifted her chin, sharpened her eyes, and put a little extra bite in her voice.
"The current generation of Mikazuki bloodline is the strongest our clan has been since the days of Grandpa Synga. Not only are we allied with the Braye clan, but Xiro already knows how to use [Trance]."
Her gaze cut back to Frost.
"With my nephew as the new sovereign, Humans will have to respect Velonica and its people, since we now have an unbeatable power on the throne."
A soft chuckle slipped from behind Frost's mask. He never moved his face from the window.
"...Unbeatable power. Sure."
That only vexed my aunt even further. The corner of her eye twitched, and her fingers tightened against the turquoise fabric of her dress. Cecil glanced back at Frost, observing him silently over the rim of his bottle. Charles, thankfully, stepped in before Glynis started testing how many teeth Frost could regrow.
"Matters not to me. I'm just happy to meet my long-lost family. And it's good to hear that he is an Oni worth holding faith in."
Cecil's gaze narrowed slightly, turning thoughtful.
"...[Trance], huh?"
He glanced back to Kairos, only to find the Holy Elf smiling with excitement. Kairos's green eyes shone with childish joy. Cecil shrugged, took another sip from his bottle, and returned his attention to steering the carriage. If Kairos wanted to be delighted by cosmic nonsense, Cecil apparently planned to be drunk enough to tolerate it.
As the carriage turned through Castle Midnight's gates, Charles and Kairos instantly expressed their liking of the castle's unique design and practicality. The dark walls rose on both sides like folded night, trimmed with silver architecture and glowing mana veins that pulsed through the stone in calm, rhythmic waves. The gates didn't feel ornamental. They were beautiful, yeah, but they were also thick, reinforced, and carved with enough protective runes to make siege engineers cry into their blueprints. Gardens spread across the front grounds in controlled elegance, midnight roses and pale hydrangeas swaying beneath the light breeze.
Then the cerulean sun in the sky reflected off Nightcrawler. That got Kairos's attention immediately. My six-wheeled beauty sat parked near the front garden, her black body glossy and impossible against the older fantasy elegance of the castle. She caught the sunlight like polished shadow, every edge sleek and strange. Compared to horse carriages and beast carts, Nightcrawler looked like something that drove out of a dream with bad intentions and heated seats.
Kairos leaned forward, eyes locked on it.
"Lady Glynis, a question if I may. What is that dark, mysterious machine over there?"
Glynis followed his gaze.
"Dark machine..? Oh, that's the thing Xiro calls a car. All that I know it's like a comfortable and fast carriage. If you want, I can ask him to give you a ride in it. I think my son, Alex, knows how to control it."
Kairos's expression sharpened with satisfied recognition.
"Hmm... That was him whom we saw, then."
Cecil gave Nightcrawler a long look.
"More creation magick..."
Glynis stepped down from the carriage first, smoothing her dress before gesturing for them to follow.
"This way, fellas."
As they walked through the halls of the castle, the men all noticed the regal, yet staunch, designs of the interiors. Castle Midnight didn't have the soft, decorative beauty of old noble houses. It had purpose. Dark stone walls. Tall archways. Long corridors with polished floors that reflected the glow of embedded mana crystals. Silver-black columns stood at regular intervals, each carved with crescent patterns and faintly luminous runes. The decor carried an alien elegance, familiar enough to be called royal, but strange enough to remind every visitor that the mind behind it didn't come from normal Gaian architecture.
Even the room's spatial manipulation wasn't missed. The corridors stretched longer inside than they should have. Doorways opened into spaces bigger than the castle's exterior had any business allowing. Some walls curved with subtle dimensional folding, their geometry smooth but slightly wrong, like the castle had learned manners but still enjoyed violating physics in private.
The smell of jasmine and fruits paraded through the airwaves, attempting to relax the nerves of my new visitors. Sweet, floral, and clean, the scent moved through the halls in gentle waves from hidden vents, mixing with the cooler mineral smell of polished stone. It was probably one of the nicer ideas I had built into the place. A castle that smells good automatically feels richer. That's just science. Or interior design and some shit.
As they got closer to the throne room, my mother's voice traveled through the hall.
"...I don't mind, sugar. But are you sure you want to handle the cooking alone? It's a lot of people to prepare for, Kyttin."
Another voice answered from inside, sweet and steady with that eager edge.
"Yes, ma'am. I can take care of it. Besides, I want to make Master Xi his favorite meal."
"Then call me if you need any assistance."
"I surely will. Thank you."
Just as Kyttin Luna made her exit from the throne room through a door in the back, Glynis entered through the cracked front double doors with an insidious grin on her face. That grin was dangerous. Kairos and the others followed behind her, their hoods finally coming down as their eyes landed on the Dark Elf-looking woman with long, blonde dreadlocks standing in the room.
Vericka Mikazuki turned from the throne area with calm confusion at first.
"Glynis, where have you been?"
My aunt's grin widened.
"Vee! You wouldn't believe who I found wandering the streets."
With one swift look at the four men behind Glynis, Vericka's expression shifted into surprise. Her hazel-green eyes widened as recognition moved across her face in stages.
"Oh my, is that Dr. Kai? And Sifu Cecil! What are you two doing here?"
Kairos offered her a graceful bow, warm and polished.
"A good noon to you, Lady Vericka. No longer wearing the appearance of your [Trance], I see."
Cecil lifted his bottle slightly in greeting, his eyes scanning her aura with the blunt honesty of an old instructor.
"Well, well, Vericka. Your magick aura is extremely weak, but you look a lot healthier and happier."
Vericka placed a hand against her chest and smiled, unbothered by the comment.
"That's okay with me, as I no longer fight, Sifu. Ooh, I recognize this big guy. It's been forever, Charles."
With no further words, Charles crossed the room and hugged Vericka tightly, picking her off the ground like she weighed nothing. Mom grunted in surprise as her arms lifted, her dreadlocks swaying with the sudden motion.
"Vericka, Vericka, Vericka! It's been ages. How's your mother doing?"
After he placed her back down, Mom took a second to recalibrate herself. She smoothed the front of her shirt, blinked once, and let out a little laugh.
"I'm glad to see you haven't changed. Mom is fine. She's out in the city, at the moment..."
For a heartbeat, the room felt easy. Old friends. Old teachers. Old clan ties. Then Vericka saw the masked man behind them. Her words came to a stop.
Just stopped.
The whole room seemed to notice before anyone said anything. Glynis's grin faded into something sharper. Kairos watched with his hands folded in front of him. Cecil lowered his bottle slightly. Charles took a small step aside, giving space to a history that didn't belong to him.
Vericka's heart must have jumped a beat. You could see it in her face. The tiny break in her breathing. The way her eyes softened and sharpened at the same time. The way nostalgia and yearning rose inside her before she had time to hide either one. She walked up to Frost slowly, each step quiet against the polished floor.
Standing before him, she looked up at the mask she had probably seen in memory more times than she wanted to admit.
"You know, I've always hated this mask. Still, it could never hide you from me."
Frost didn't immediately respond.
Then his gloved hand rose. Slowly, he removed the facial accessory.
Behind the pale skeleton mask was a face time had sharpened but not stolen. Silver irises burned inside black scleras, framed by pin-like Vessel markings beneath his eyes. Indigo horns rose from his head with authority, and that low-fuzz beard only made the resemblance worse. If not for the age in his face and the shaved cut of his hair, the room might've been staring at an older version of me.
Vericka's eyes traced his face with a softness that didn't belong to the former Demon Lord most people feared.
"He has your eyes."
Frost said nothing at first. Instead, he grabbed her by the hips and pulled her closer.
"You look as beautiful as you did when we first met."
Vericka began to blush, and that alone probably stunned half the room. My mother had faced war, betrayal, motherhood, political collapse, and her own deathlike transformation with more composure than most people could dream of showing. But Frost Mayonaka pulled her close and called her beautiful, and suddenly Lady Mikazuki looked like a young woman standing beneath old moonlight.
She didn't have long to sit with the words.
Frost kissed her.
Deep. Slow.
Possessive in a way that made the whole room remember they were watching something personal. The sound of ice melting and cracking could be heard in the atmosphere, faint but distinct, as if Frost's cold aura softened around her warmth. His signature didn't flare violently. It loosened. Melted. The chill around him receded in thin streams, and the air near them became damp with a soft mist that curled around their feet before fading.
The old lovers reunited in front of everyone with a kiss that carried years of absence, worry, frustration, longing, and unfinished conversations neither of them was ready to say out loud yet.
My Aunt Glynis cleared her throat with enough force to remind them that the room still had witnesses.
Mom pulled back first, cheeks reddened, eyes lowered for half a second as she corrected her shirt and tried to regain her composure. She smoothed her hair behind one shoulder, clearing her throat with all the dignity she could gather after getting kissed like that in the throne room.
"Forgive me, everyone. That's not very ladylike."
Charles chuckled warmly. Glynis shook her head in disbelief, though her expression held something complicated beneath the irritation. Kairos only grinned, the man clearly entertained by how many theories and reunions were blooming in one room. Cecil took the moment to take another sip from his bottle, because apparently, romance and awkward family tension went down easier with baijiu.
Former Demon Lord or not, Mom still folded like fresh laundry when the right man kissed her. Hate to see it. Still, happy for her.
The reunion of my Mother with my Father should've led to one of those unforgettable days people told stories about around dinner tables. You know, the kind of family moment with warm smiles, old memories, maybe a few tears, somebody pretending they weren't emotional while clearly blowing snot bubbles. But nah. Gaia had other plans. That day would still be unforgettable, just for all the wrong damn reasons.
The throne room of Castle Midnight looked built for drama on purpose. A glass ceiling stretched high above, letting noon sunlight spill across obsidian floors, silver fixtures, and tall black columns. Whenever clouds passed over, shade swallowed the throne and made the black, silver, and purple chair look more intimidating than I intended. The chamber shimmered like a royal shrine to bad decisions and good taste.
Vericka slowly pulled herself back together after Frost kissed her like the past fifteen years had been one long commercial break. She smoothed her hair, steadied her expression, and returned her attention to the man standing in front of her. Even after all that time, her eyes still softened when they landed on him. The former Crimson Lady could once stare down armies and make grown men apologize for thinking wrong, but Frost had a way of dragging out the woman beneath all that legend.
She tilted her chin toward him gently.
"You should meet your son. Xiro looks and acts a lot like you."
Frost's silver eyes shifted toward the castle around him instead of answering right away. His gaze traveled across the throne room, studying the towering walls, the elegant gloom, the silver trim, the mana veins pulsing quietly through black stone, and the throne waiting beneath the light. He looked at my kingdom's heart like he was reading a confession carved into architecture.
"If this city now is a reflection of him, then I've seen enough. This castle tells me a lot about men like him. I'm pretty sure I have an understanding of who he is."
He wasn't studying the castle anymore. He was judging the kind of man he wanted me to be guilty of becoming.
Mom's softness tightened at the edges.
"You couldn't be more wrong going by first appearances."
Glynis folded her arms, already looking like she had been waiting all morning for Frost to say something stupid enough to swing at.
"Yeah, dummy, Xiro isn't someone you just understand. You have to get to know him."
Kairos stepped into the conversation with that bright, academic curiosity he carried like perfume. His eyes had been shining since the moment he entered Castle Midnight, and the more people talked about me, the worse he got at hiding his excitement.
"Where is the new Demon Lord?" Kairos asked, practically glowing. "I've been waiting to see what became of the newborn Pseudo-Oni. The Devil Moon, if I recall."
Glynis snorted lightly.
"Well, he became the Devil of Velonica."
Kairos's brows lifted with pleasant recognition.
"The Devil of Velonica is quite popular in Endora and the Holy Lands. He's the modern-day Boogey Man in tavern stories."
Mom laughed at that. Not loudly, but enough for amusement to brighten her face. I could imagine the memory of all my old names bouncing around her head. Devil Moon. Moonlight. Devil of Velonica. Every alias sounded like somebody let a church girl name a villain after hearing one rumor too many.
"He's now going by The Midnight King, or so he says. I told him it could use some brainstorming if he was trying to sound less evil."
Cecil stood off to the side with his baijiu bottle in hand, his golden-furred face unreadable for a second. His ears twitched slightly as he muttered under his breath.
"The Midnight King? Like the Archon of Night?"
Mom looked toward him.
"Huh? What was that, Sifu?"
Cecil lifted the bottle for another drink, hiding whatever thoughts moved behind his eyes.
"Nothing. Just thinking to myself."
Mom nodded, though I'm pretty sure she clocked more than he wanted her to.
"Give me just a moment. I'll call him here."
Vericka lowered her head and closed her eyes. Her lashes rested against her cheeks, and the room's sunlight brushed along her blonde dreadlocks while she reached inward for the connection between us. Charles looked completely lost, his head tilting like he was watching somebody pray to a window. Cecil took another sip, like this was normal enough to drink through. Kairos, meanwhile, grinned harder the more he tried not to. That man had a theory cooking in his skull, and apparently, my entire existence was seasoning.
Charles leaned toward Glynis and lowered his voice in the most obvious whisper in the room.
"Psspp, hey, what is she doing?"
Glynis glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
"Using [Telepathy] to contact him."
Cecil's attention sharpened, bottle paused near his mouth.
"I'm impressed Vericka could learn such a skill."
Glynis shook her head.
"Not quite. She's using a Blessing from Xiro. He is the one who mastered the ability."
Cecil's brows rose.
"He's even able to give out Blessings? This Xiro sounds chock full of potential."
Kairos's smile finally broke through fully.
"You're finally starting to realize, huh?"
After a moment, Mom reopened her eyes. The glow of the Blessing faded from her pupils, leaving her gaze clear again.
"He'll be here in just a second."
Suddenly, Cecil, Charles, and Frost all reacted.
A dangerous mana signature fell over the throne room like an endless void opening above their heads. It had no heat, no kindness, no mortal rhythm. Dark, eroding, and impossibly deep, it brushed against their senses with the feeling of standing too close to a place where existence had been chewed through. The pressure didn't last long. It faded back into nothing almost as fast as it arrived, but that single breath of my aura had already told their instincts enough.
The room went colder for a heartbeat.
Three seconds later, a spiral of royal purple Spatial Mana opened behind the group, directly over the throne. The portal turned slowly at first, then tightened into a bright vortex threaded with violet, black, and azure light. Magitons warped around the edges like sparks caught in a whirlpool, bending the sunlight as space folded for me.
Within a blink, I was seated on my black, silver, and purple throne.
The velvet indigo cushion beneath me was softer than physics could explain, which made sense since I had stopped asking physics for permission around Chapter Four. The second I appeared, the throne room flooded with a phantom wave of magickal pressure. It rolled across the chamber and rubbed against the skin of the four visiting men like cold hands sliding through smoke. Not enough to harm them. Just enough to remind everyone that the chair wasn't for decoration.
My mother had called me to make an appearance as king for some important guests at the exact moment I was about to relax and think for once. So yeah, my face showed annoyance. I ain't ashamed of that. I leaned back slightly, staring down at the group from my throne.
"I almost had a moment to myself."
My eyes bounced from one person to the next.
The four men in traveling cloaks were special. That much was obvious before anyone said a word. Dr. Kai's pale-white ass stood front and center, his tall Holy Elf frame carrying that prestigious look he always had. The silver streak in his hair made him look like somebody's ancient professor who knew too much.
Then my eyes landed on the monkey man. That got my attention for real.
It was my first time seeing a Simian in person. The most I knew about them was that they lived in the Junji Mountains, and the books made them sound like some bridge between Humans and Demihumans. Cecil's spiritual aura was incredibly dense, though. Thick, old, refined. The kind of aura that didn't need to flare to announce itself. He was a seasoned fighter. Maybe even a True M-Cee or higher. Easily above S-Class. The baijiu bottle in his hand didn't fool me. Drunk masters were either funny as fuck or dangerous as hell, and he gave off both.
Then my eyes found the first set of indigo horns. Horns that resembled mine.
They belonged to an Oni Sage with brown skin, fierce red irises, and a horseshoe mustache that gave him heavy, cool-uncle energy. Charles smiled at me with warmth so immediate it almost threw me off. There was a resemblance there. Not exact, but enough. Same sturdy bloodline presence. Same horn shape. Same Majin weight in the room.
For half a second, I thought he could've been my father.
Then I saw Frost.
The man giving me that intense leer was damn near a mirror reflection of a more mature me. Same cinnamon-colored complexion. Same indigo horns. Same silver eyes. He even had the pin marks under his eyes, like destiny had gotten lazy and started copy-pasting details with a cold hand. His low-cut hair and sharp, older face made him look like a version of me who smiled less, trusted nothing, and probably considered emotional availability a weakness in the warrior code.
[Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi] decided that was the perfect time to be helpful in the worst way possible.
"The Death Oni there has a 50.992% match of your DNA. It is safe to say that he is your..."
I cut him off in my thoughts before he could finish.
"Shut up, Tsukuyomi."
He went silent immediately.
"Good Aeon. Or good Vessel Skill. Whatever."
The atmosphere in the throne room felt like it had suddenly dropped several degrees. A ghostly chill slid through the chamber, thin and invisible, raising the hairs along my arms. Frost and I remained locked in a visual leer, both sets of silver eyes piercing into the other's soul. Searching for something. Measuring something. Maybe judging something neither of us had the words for yet.
Then an image struck my mind.
Murderous intent.
Not random anger. Not casual hostility. Something colder than that. Focused. Buried. A knife under snow. It came from Frost.
The confusion hit me hard enough to snap me fully back into reality. I shook the feeling off and stood from the throne, my annoyance now tangled with something sharper. The indigo cushion released me like it didn't want drama, and honestly, same.
Mom had already started introducing me while I made my way down the steps.
"You may not remember him, but this tall, Holy Elf is Dr. Kai. The golden-haired Simian here is my Sifu, Cecil DàShèng. That brolic Oni back there is your Uncle, Charles Mayonaka."
I descended each step calmly, letting my eyes move across them again. My black pants and white t-shirt looked simple, but the Noir Empress wasn't regular clothing. Karma hugged my body as bioarmor in casual form, smooth and free of stains because my woman would never allow me to look dusty during an important introduction. She had standards. Dangerous, sexy standards.
When I joined their location on the throne room floor, Mom's hand shifted slightly before she gestured toward Frost.
"...And this gentleman, here, is your Father, Frost Mayonaka."
Then she turned to the others, pride clear in her voice.
"Everyone, this is the Demon Lord of Velonica, Xiro Mikazuki. My firstborn child and current Grandmaster of the Mikazuki Clan."
Before anyone else could say anything, Charles rushed in and wrapped me in a hug.
It happened so fast that my body almost reacted like I was being attacked. His arms locked around me with powerful Oni strength, squeezing me into an embrace that carried care instead of threat. And damn if that didn't melt away my annoyance quicker than expected. The warmth of it hit me weird. Familiar, but from a stranger. It reminded me of Mom, Grandma, and Aunt Glynis. That same blood-deep affection that didn't need permission to exist. Except now it came from a man I had just met.
Before I could think too hard, my arms moved on their own.
I hugged him back. I didn't realize how badly I needed that until my arms were already around him.
Charles gave me a firm pat on the back before pulling away with a manly smile and a thumbs-up.
"I'm proud of you, kiddo. You seem like you've got a good head on your shoulders."
That landed somewhere I wasn't ready to inspect.
Dr. Kairos stepped forward next and gave me a formal handshake. His grip was steady, warm, and precise. The whole time, he kept smiling while looking me up and down like he was checking the final version of a project he'd been waiting years to see. He looked proud in a way that made me uncomfortable. For a second, I wondered if something was wrong with my outfit. But there was no way the Noir Empress had a stain on her.
Cecil gave me a bow after that, smooth and respectful despite being halfway through the bottle in his hand. My eyes flicked down to the baijiu, then back up to him. He gave me a wink and a hidden grin, and I knew right then that the man my mother called sifu was a lot more than he led on. He had that old monkey energy.
Then I reached Frost. My father.
I didn't know what to say. I honestly didn't know what to think.
The man had been missing for twenty years of my life. Well, fifteen for him, if we wanted to get technical with the time lost across dimensions and bullshit. But either way, too damn long. I had wondered about him more times than I'd ever admit out loud. Wondered what the other half of my bloodline was like. Wondered if the man my mother once chose was impressive, gallant, noble, or powerful. Someone worth hearing about. Someone I could look up to, even late. Maybe not as a boy anymore, but as a man meeting the shape of where he came from.
And there he was.
Standing right in front of me. Ready to give me answers I thought I wanted.
I took a breath, pulled a smile together, and stuck my chest out.
"I was expecting to at least see some bottles of milk," I said, hand extended. "But I'll take it you never found the store."
It was a joke.
An Earth joke, sure, but still a joke. A peace offering wrapped in sarcasm. I stuck my hand out, hoping my smile conveyed the intent, because I wasn't trying to make the moment heavy right away. Maybe the idiom was too much for Sociovores from previous generations. Maybe I was invisible, and the slight reaction in his neck was because he heard a sound but couldn't see me. That could've explained why he looked past me like I was furniture with horns.
Or maybe he was just a dick.
Frost looked down at my hand. Then back up to my eyes. Then he turned his full head toward my mother and asked her a question, completely ignoring my attempt at an interaction.
"Hey, Vericka, what happened to the Trance form you couldn't deactivate?"
I won't lie. I was thrown off. Thrown the fuck off, actually.
The man curved me and left me hanging on our first time meeting, in my own throne room, in front of my mom, my aunt, his uncle, a Holy Elf doctor, and a drunk monkey sage. My hand stayed there for a second too long before I lowered it. Outside, I looked calm enough. Inside, my thoughts started running laps.
"Yo, this... this motherfucka just... Yo... Who the fuck does this nigga think he is?"
[Midnight Star: Belial] answered way too fast.
"He thinks he's your punk ass, Dad."
"Belial, shut the fuck up right now!"
My jaw tightened, but I kept my face controlled.
"Now, am I trippin' or did he just diss me? In my throne room? In front of my mother?"
[Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi] entered with his usual level-headed energy, the traitor.
"While it does appear to have been intentional, maybe we should learn more about Frost before we make a passing judgment on him."
Belial wasted no time being Belial.
"I say we punch him in the face for every birthday that he missed."
Tsukuyomi remained calm, which somehow made it more annoying.
"While that would be cathartic, Master is a sovereign and must uphold the image of a king. Even with his parents."
I said nothing in my head for a second.
[Midnight Star: Belial] pushed one more time.
"But Boss is a real nigga, first and foremost."
I still said nothing. Then I exhaled through my nose.
"Fucking fine. I'll keep my cool... For now."
I didn't like it, but [Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi] had a point. I didn't need to get emotional too quickly. I needed to feel Frost out a little more before I snapped. And besides, I wasn't a toddler with his hand stretched out, desperate for approval. I was a grown man. A sovereign. A Demon Lord. I needed to act like one.
I came back to the reality of the group with Aunt Glynis's voice cutting through the tension.
"There are private rooms to go for a more relaxed environment."
I rolled my shoulders slightly, letting my irritation sink behind a kingly mask.
"Since this is a family matter, I know a spot where everyone can sit and rest their feet."
Charles clapped his hands together once, apparently happy to move anywhere that had alcohol and fewer emotional landmines.
"I hope you have something to drink in this place. I would love a beer."
Glynis gave him a sympathetic look.
"We haven't found a Steward of the Realm yet, but I'll get one for you in a few."
Mom looked toward me, her voice carrying a softness that helped cool some of the heat crawling under my skin.
"Okay, Moonlight, we're ready to follow you."
I lifted my hand.
"No need to follow."
With a snap of my fingers, Spatial Mana bloomed beneath everyone at once. Frost's eyes narrowed by a fraction as the portal opened beneath him.
Good. He could ignore my hand, but he couldn't ignore the room moving when I told it to.
Royal purple light spread across the floor in a wide circular sigil, rotating around our feet before opening downward like the castle itself had turned into a spatial door. The air folded with a smooth, velvet pull. Frost, Charles, Cecil, Kairos, Mom, Glynis, and I were swallowed by my hyperspace in one clean motion. For a breath, the throne room vanished around us, replaced by a tunnel of violet-black stars, bending geometry, and whispering mana threads that stretched across Castle Midnight's internal dimensions.
Then space corrected.
We were relocated deeper within the castle, all in the span of a heartbeat. The family reunion was going exactly how you'd expect from a family of Majins and Celestials full of Godwalkers. Never a dull moment.
My teleportation dropped everyone into the second-floor living room with a soft pulse of Spatial Mana.
Royal purple light bloomed beneath our feet, twisting in a circular sigil before folding inward like the floor had opened one eye and blinked us through. For half a breath, the throne room vanished into a corridor of violet-black space, a tunnel of shifting stars and distorted geometry. The walls of my hyperspace stretched and curved like glass under water, threads of dark matter sliding past us in quiet streams. Then reality snapped back into place, gentle but firm, and the whole group landed inside one of Castle Midnight's family gathering rooms.
The room smelled of burning incense, sweet and smoky, with a soft bite of sandalwood curling through the air. Thin ribbons of fragrant smoke drifted from a black ceramic burner near the corner, swaying beneath the movement of the teleportation's aftercurrent. The second floor housed most of the bedrooms, so I had designed that living room to be the kind of spot where the Wolfpak, my family, and whoever else got dragged into my nonsense could sit down, talk, argue, laugh, or pass out after nearly dying. You know, normal family bonding activities.
Kyttin had handled the layout, which meant everything had a clean elegance to it, warm but still refined. Azumi picked the furniture, which meant half the couches looked expensive enough to make a noble accountant sweat and comfortable enough to steal years off your life if you sat down too long. The color palette leaned heavily into red and black, but the golden and wooden trim softened the room's sharper edges, giving it a royal outline without making the place feel like a museum where fun went to die. The couches were deep, plush, and arranged in a loose half-circle around a low table of dark polished wood. Thick rugs softened the floor beneath us, woven with crescent patterns and tiny silver thread that glimmered when the light hit them.
Tall windows let morning sunlight spill into the room, but the curtains filtered it through dark red fabric, bathing the furniture in a warm crimson shade. A few mana crystals floated near the ceiling in decorative lanterns, glowing like small captured stars. Their light shifted with the room's mood, dimming slightly as the tension from Frost followed us in like an unwanted guest who ain't take his shoes off.
Everyone took a seat on one of the luxurious couches. Everyone except Frost. Of course.
He chose to remain standing with his arms folded, posture rigid, face unreadable, but eyes loud as hell. My group teleportation didn't seem to impress him. If anything, the look he gave me held discomfort and distaste, like I had done something improper by bending space in my own home. He stood near the edge of the seating area, shoulders squared, silver eyes narrowed just enough to let me know he was still measuring me and finding reasons not to like what he saw.
Cecil and Kairos had the exact opposite reaction.
Dr. Kairos practically lit up after we landed. His pale fingers adjusted the sleeves of his traveling cloak, and his green eyes sparkled like he had just seen a rare spell performed on stage by his favorite magician. He turned slowly, studying the leftover ripple of Spatial Mana fading from the floor.
"My, my! What an excellent use of Spatial Mana. Such a proper understanding of dimensional space. Yes, a brilliant display."
Cecil dropped into one of the couches with the casual ease of a man who had seen plenty of strange shit and decided this one was worth smiling about. His tail curled comfortably near his side as he leaned back, baijiu bottle still in hand.
"Another user of Teleportation. Always a rare sight on Gaia. He could be a genius."
Kairos nodded eagerly, stepping closer to the area where the last violet motes dissolved into the rug.
"That's because controlling dark matter and magitons is extremely difficult, let alone combining the two and directing it in a spell with no chanting."
Mom sat with one leg crossed, her posture regal but relaxed. Pride softened her face as she looked at me, and I already knew she was about to start airing out my childhood feats like embarrassing baby pictures.
"Even so, Xiro has been using Yin Mana and Spatial Mana since his second day after birth."
Aunt Glynis leaned into the couch beside her, grinning like she had been waiting for someone to bring that up.
"Not to mention, fighting Goblins as a toddler."
Charles, Kairos, and Cecil all turned their heads toward me at the same time.
I lifted a hand slightly, trying to wave off the sudden attention.
"It was just Shadow Storage. I've gotten a lot better at what I can do now."
Kairos stared at me like I had just said I learned surgery by playing with kitchen knives.
"Shadow Storage is a mana art that even B-Class magicians struggle with."
Cecil's grin widened as he tipped his bottle toward me.
"And here you were, treating it as a toy. Literally."
Charles rubbed his chin, eyes warm with that same proud uncle energy he came in with.
"Well, with what I know about your parents, I would only guess that you would be as naturally talented."
The gentlemen started chatting after that, sliding into one of those old-head debates about hard work versus natural talent. Kairos argued that early aptitude revealed structural harmony between the soul and mana channels. Cecil countered that talent without pain and discipline was just a fancy way to waste potential. Charles brought in bloodline inheritance, saying strong parents usually made children with higher ceilings, but that ceiling meant nothing if the child never had reason to climb.
I let them debate it. Honestly, I would've preferred they keep debating forever if it meant nobody turned the attention back on my emotionally constipated father figure standing in the corner like a judgmental refrigerator or me.
But while they talked, Frost glared at me with narrow eyes.
My achievements didn't brighten his expression. They didn't soften him. They didn't spark pride or curiosity. Each story about me as a child, each little mention of my gifts, only seemed to push him farther away. It was like every accomplishment told him I was less his son and more some strange thing wearing his bloodline as a coat.
That shit was getting annoying.
It didn't take long for the topic to circle back to me fully. Charles leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes wide with interest.
"You took out all of the Moltenfangs by yourself?"
I scratched the side of my face, already feeling the heat of attention crawling toward my ears.
"It wasn't anything big. If Steez were at full MP, he would have handled them, too."
Mom gave me that look mothers give when they know their child is lying to avoid praise.
"I still don't think your brother would have survived that pack."
Aunt Glynis pointed toward me with a smirk sharp enough to cut fruit.
"Yeah, you're being modest again. For a proud shittalker, you sure can't survive being praised for a long time."
I didn't have a response.
My cheeks warmed, and I looked off to the side like the incense smoke was suddenly the most interesting thing on Gaia. Auntie scored a clean point, and I hated that it landed. I could stare down Angels, Ascended Humans, Outer Gods, and country leaders, but when my elders said I did a good job with sincerity, suddenly I was fighting for my life in the social arena.
Cecil's interest in me grew more and more as Mom and Aunt Glynis shared old stories of how Mom and I used to train together. Stories about me trying to imitate her footwork. Stories about me throwing a tantrum because I couldn't get a Combat Art right, then somehow figuring out a different version out of pure spite. Stories about me asking too many questions, sneaking into training yards, and treating danger like a puzzle box.
Frost didn't speak much. The more they praised the child I had been, the less Frost looked like he believed that child ever belonged to him.
If he answered anything, it was usually because Mom asked him directly. He made a couple of glances toward me when I spoke, but you would've thought he and I had been beefing for years from the way he danced around any direct interaction. Not awkward avoidance either. Willful. Intentional. Cold enough that even Aunt Glynis's smile started thinning at the edges.
Charles eventually clapped his hands together, breaking through the growing stiffness with that uncle-style timing I appreciated.
"Aye, Glynis, about that drink? Where could I find the kitchen in this place?"
Aunt Glynis started to rise.
"I can go for you. I'll grab something for everyone that way."
I lifted my hand before she could move far.
"No need, Auntie. I can handle that, too."
Since the room was already treating me like a living showcase, I figured I might as well put on a little show. I spread my fingers and let Omnis Mana gather between my palms. The energy formed slowly, dramatically, on purpose, because sometimes presentation matters. A night-colored orb swelled in my hands, glossy and iridescent, shimmering through shades of black, violet, silver, gold, and colors that didn't have polite names in mortal languages. Concentrated magitons churned inside the orb like pure quarks waiting for instructions.
The air around my palms hummed.
[Magick Reconstruction] took the raw structure of the mana and shaped its conceptual frame, while [Matter Manipulation] gave that idea a physical body. The orb split into several threads, each one curling outward over the low table. Glasses formed first, appearing from glowing outlines into solid crystal. Then the liquids poured into existence inside them—dark red wine, golden beer with a foamy head, amber ale, deep brown cognac, fresh juices in bright colors, aromatic tea steaming gently, and a whole liter of clean drinking water.
The drinks settled on the table in a neat arrangement, like a servant had brought them in on a tray.
Cecil leaned forward, his eyes sharpening. "More creation magick. Firsthand, this time."
Charles's face lit up the moment the scent hit him. He reached for one of the glasses with zero hesitation.
"I know that smell anywhere. I'll be taking this lager. Ooh, is that one an ale?"
Everyone except Frost grabbed something to drink.
I wasn't expecting anything different. At that point, even the room seemed to understand he was choosing distance on purpose. Mom glanced at him more than once, her eyes carrying concern she tried not to show. Aunt Glynis looked ready to start a problem just to get him to act like a person. Charles noticed, too, his smile dulling whenever his eyes drifted toward his nephew. Cecil watched with that quiet, drunken sharpness that told me the baijiu wasn't dulling a damn thing.
Kairos lifted his cup but didn't drink yet. His gaze stayed fixed on the table, on the drinks, on the fading specks of Omnis Mana dissolving from my fingertips.
"Just... one moment for a question, Lord Xiro, if I may. Was that an ascended mana you just commanded?"
Cecil's ears twitched as he looked closer.
"You're right. It looked like pure Omnis Mana. A divine affinity at that."
"Oh, yeah," I said, grabbing the cognac. "It's the easiest to create items from since it's mostly just naked matter as a result of the concentrated magitons."
Kairos's face brightened like I had just spoken his favorite language.
"Ahh, yes. You speak about the way datons write Omnis Mana to be compatible with every possibility. It's a flexible magick form."
Cecil took another drink from his bottle, then looked me over with a more direct kind of interest.
"So, besides space and creation magick, what else can you really do in a battle?"
I looked down at my glass for a second.
That question was harder than it sounded, mainly because I had never organized myself that way. Some fighters had clear lanes. Fire mage. Spearman. Healer. Shield tank. Beast summoner. Whatever. I had become a walking "yes" button with trauma scaling.
"I've never thought like that. I don't limit myself. It's really more of what CAN'T I do. And nothing comes to mind."
As I said it, Ice Mana moved across my fingertips and into the glass. Frost bloomed across the outside in a delicate white pattern, spreading from my touch in branching crystals. Inside, the cognac cooled instantly without freezing solid. A small pop sounded as perfect ice crystals formed in the liquor, clinking against the glass with crisp little notes.
Cecil's mouth curled into a wicked grin. That grin told me he liked arrogance when the person could back it up.
Kairos, though, stared at me like the final lock on his theory had clicked open.
"I'm convinced, Lord Xiro. You are, indeed, who I have been looking for."
But before Kairos could continue, Frost finally decided to speak. And naturally, he chose violence with manners.
"You, offspring of mine, answer these questions first."
The entire room shifted. Offspring. Not son. Not Xiro.
Offspring.
Conversations died instantly. Charles lowered his drink. Mom's eyes moved to Frost with surprise. Glynis straightened in her seat. Cecil's grin faded into a careful line, though his eyes sharpened with interest. Kairos looked genuinely confused, like he couldn't understand why anyone would interrupt such an important revelation with family tension.
Me? I knew that shit was coming sooner or later. We could only stay awkward around each other for so long. Still, he was on strike one with that offspring-of-mine shit. I didn't know whether to laugh, cuss, or ask if calling me by my name required a subscription fee.
I set my glass loosely in my hand and stared at him.
"I have a name. And a title. But fine, I'll answer you."
Frost's silver eyes didn't soften.
"Who paid for the labor behind this grand castle? This advanced-looking version of Talasi?"
Mom answered before I could.
"No one paid. Xiro did all of this with his own hands. Even I can answer that one."
Frost immediately cut his eyes at Vericka. The look was sharp enough to make her jump in shock.
That was strike two. My pissed-off meter started humming low in my chest, vibrating like somebody had turned on an engine behind my ribs. Mom covered it well, but I saw the way her shoulders tensed. The way her breath caught. The way that old affection in her eyes stumbled over the sudden coldness from him.
"I missed you, Frost. Don't make me regret letting my heart move faster than my judgment." Mom murmured as she looked up at him.
Frost looked back at me.
"How much of the infrastructure came from your abilities? How much of the technology?"
"All of the magitech came from me. I created all of the new tech you see used here."
"If all of this depends on your abilities, what happens to these people when you are gone?"
Aunt Glynis gestured around the room, her voice firm.
"Thanks to my nephew's magitech, everyone's life has become comfortable. Nobles and lesser clans alike."
Frost moved as if he hadn't heard a single word she said. Like her voice hit an invisible wall and dropped dead at his feet.
"So you control all of the power here. How many people here follow you by choice? Or do they just follow because they fear what you are?"
I stared at him.
"Fear what I am? Whatchu talmbout? What are you trying to say, my nigga?"
"I sat with grieving families, healed workers, upgraded shops, fixed roads, protected other clans, and listened when folks had problems I didn't even know how to solve yet."
I placed my glass on the table with more care than I felt. The ice inside clicked softly against the crystal.
"I worked damn hard to gain the trust of these people. You will never know what it means to hear my hometown cheer for me and thank me, instead of running from me due to rumors."
Mom nodded slowly, pride and pain mixing across her face. Cecil said nothing, but I saw the fog clear from his eyes. He had been watching Frost for a while, maybe hoping he was just awkward, maybe hoping the coldness had a reason softer than what it looked like. But now, even he couldn't ignore it.
Frost didn't come to reconnect. At least, not with me.
"What exactly are you?"
That question confused the fuck out of me. It hit the room wrong, too. Too cold. Too precise. Too far away from anything a father should be asking his son during their first conversation. For a second, I had no reply. The words sat in my head like a foreign object.
Aunt Glynis answered in place of my silence.
"What kind of stupid question is that? Xiro is exactly who he's been from birth, your fucking son."
Her response silenced even the air in the room.
Mom's voice came quieter than Glynis's, but heavier. "He is our blood, Frost. Don't do this."
The incense smoke kept curling, but it felt slower now. The mana crystals near the ceiling dimmed slightly, reacting to the shift in pressure. Mom's face tightened. Charles's jaw clenched. Kairos looked between everyone with honest concern, his excitement finally buried beneath the weight of what was happening.
Glynis's voice lowered, but it didn't lose any fire.
"If you had been here when Xiro was born, you wouldn't feel so estranged from your own child."
Frost's eyes snapped to her.
"Mind your tongue and business, woman."
Strike three.
I stood up. The couch cushion rose back into shape behind me as I came to my full height. Indigo mana ignited in my eyes, bright and sharp, burning through my pupils like moonlit fire. The room's temperature dipped and rose at the same time, my aura pushing out in a slow pulse that made the glasses on the table tremble. Deep inside my Soul Core, [Midnight Star: Belial] laughed like a demon hearing a prison door unlock.
But my voice stayed controlled.
Barely.
"You will not be talking to any woman in the Mikazuki Clan like that in front of me. I will deal with you myself, if I must."
Frost didn't flinch. He didn't blink.
He simply looked me up and down like my anger had confirmed something he already feared. That made it worse. Our standoff started to press against the whole atmosphere as both our mana signatures rose in quiet opposition.
His mana felt cold, razor-thin, and deathly still. It moved like ice spreading across a wet graveyard at late night, silent and absolute. Mine answered with a darker weight, infinite and starless, a void wrapped in indigo flame. The room sat between us, caught where winter met night, and the air started to groan from the pressure.
Charles lifted both hands, trying to wedge humor between two loaded weapons.
"Hey, Frost, relax. For a man with your name, shouldn't you be acting cooler?"
No one laughed. Well, I almost did, but only because that joke was terrible in a way I respected.
Cecil finished his bottle of baijiu while watching the scene unfold with anxiety and anticipation fighting across his face. He tried to hide it, but that mischievous smile of his kept trying to come back like he smelled a good fight under all the family dysfunction. Kairos looked genuinely lost in the chaos, his eyes holding true curiosity about where the tension would land. He had come searching for answers about me. Instead, he got front-row seats to a father-son standoff with possible property damage.
Then Frost looked past me.
His attention locked onto my mother.
"Vericka," he said, voice calm enough to make the air colder. "Are you certain this boy is ours?"
[End of Chapter]
[1] May on Earth.