The night had deepened by the time Toki led Umma along the narrow stone path that wound through the outer estates of the capital. The moon hung high above them, pale and watchful, its light spilling like cold silver across the earth. The world was quiet—too quiet. Not the peaceful silence of rest, but the kind that lingered before something terrible was about to happen.
Beside him, Reginald sat stiffly atop Umma, his posture rigid, his gaze fixed forward as if he refused to acknowledge Toki's presence entirely.
Umma, however, made her displeasure known.
The great bird's feathers shifted restlessly beneath them, her movements sharper than usual, her wings twitching ever so slightly as if resisting the added weight behind Toki. A low, almost inaudible sound rumbled from her throat.
Toki exhaled softly and reached forward, his fingers brushing gently along the base of her neck.
"It's alright," he murmured. "Just a little longer."
Umma's tension eased—slightly. Not completely. But enough.
Toki could feel it.
She didn't like Reginald.
Or perhaps… she didn't trust him.
Toki didn't blame her.
"You're wasting your time," Reginald said suddenly, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. It was calm, but empty—devoid of warmth, of doubt, of anything human. "Whatever you plan to say to Rosalin… it won't stop what's coming tomorrow."
Toki didn't look at him. His gaze remained forward, steady.
"Did you try?" he asked quietly.
A pause followed.
Reginald's expression didn't change, but something in his shoulders tightened.
"My opinion doesn't matter here," he replied flatly.
That was all.
No bitterness.
No anger.
Just… resignation.
Toki felt it immediately.
There was no point pushing further.
Whatever tied Reginald to Rosalin… it wasn't something that could be unraveled with simple questions.
So he let the silence return.
The path stretched on beneath them, the distant outline of a massive estate slowly emerging through the darkness like a sleeping beast.
The Berg manor stood before them in oppressive silence, its towering structure bathed in moonlight. It was enormous—far larger than any noble residence had the right to be. Tall spires pierced the sky, their shadows stretching unnaturally across the grounds. The architecture was elegant, refined… but there was something wrong with it.
Something suffocating.
This wasn't just a noble's home.
It was a monument to power.
Exactly the kind of place one would expect from someone deeply rooted in the Church of Moonlight.
Toki slid off Umma's back, his boots touching the cold stone with a soft thud. Reginald followed without a word.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then Reginald turned and began walking toward the massive entrance doors.
Toki followed.
They stopped just before the threshold.
Reginald didn't reach for the handle.
He didn't knock.
He simply stood there.
Toki glanced at him, then smirked faintly.
"You're not coming in?" he asked. "Isn't it dangerous to leave your lady alone with another man?"
Reginald's expression didn't even flicker.
"I'd rather not be inside when she's angry that I brought you here," he said calmly. "I've already informed her of your arrival."
His eyes shifted toward the door.
"Go straight ahead. You'll find her in the main hall."
Toki studied him for a moment, then nodded.
"I'll try to keep this short."
"Do whatever you want," Reginald replied. "You're the one digging your own grave."
There was no malice in his voice.
Just certainty.
Toki pushed the door open.
The hinges didn't creak.
The sound was soft.
As if the manor itself didn't want to be heard.
He stepped inside.
And immediately—
Something felt wrong.
The silence was absolute.
No servants.
No footsteps.
No whispers.
No life.
The air was still and heavy, clinging to his skin like an unseen weight. The faint scent of roses drifted through the corridors—sweet, almost intoxicating.
Red roses.
They were everywhere.
Arranged meticulously in vases along the walls, their petals deep crimson, their beauty almost unnatural under the pale light.
It felt like a funeral.
Toki walked forward slowly, his footsteps echoing faintly against the polished floor.
His senses sharpened.
Every instinct told him the same thing.
This place wasn't empty.
Then—He smelled it.
Blood.
Not faint.
Not distant.
Strong.
Fresh.
His hand moved instinctively toward the hilt of his sword.
He didn't draw it.
Not yet.
But his fingers rested there, ready.
Toki continued forward, following the scent until the corridor opened into a vast ballroom.
He stepped inside.
And stopped.
The walls were lined with mounted trophies—heads of beasts frozen in eternal death. Bears, wolves, crocodiles… creatures from lands far beyond the kingdom. Their glassy eyes stared into nothingness, their jaws frozen mid-snarl.
But at the center—Above all the rest—Was a dragon.
Its skull was enormous, its empty eye sockets staring down upon the hall like a silent god. Its teeth were jagged, monstrous, each one larger than a man's hand.
"I didn't expect to have guests tonight."
The voice echoed through the hall.
Toki's grip tightened slightly as he took a step back, his body instinctively shifting into a defensive stance.
The voice came from the dragon's mouth.
And then—
Blood began to drip.
At first, it was just a thin line.
Then more.
And more.
Until it poured from the dragon's jaws like a crimson waterfall, splashing onto the marble floor below.
Toki's eyes narrowed.
"Stay calm," the voice continued, almost amused. "I won't harm you… not until tomorrow."
The blood gathered.
From the pool, a figure began to take shape, the crimson liquid twisting and forming into flesh, into hair, into eyes.
Rosalin Berg emerged slowly, as if being reborn from the very essence of death.
Her golden hair shimmered faintly under the moonlight, contrasting grotesquely with the blood that still clung to her skin. Her blue eyes gleamed with something sharp… something predatory.
Beautiful.
Terrifying.
She tilted her head slightly as she looked at him.
"If you're here," she said softly, "then you must have spoken with the Angel of Death."
A faint smile curved her lips.
"Did you come to ask questions?"
Toki didn't move.
"I'm not here to ask why you want to start the massacre tomorrow," he said calmly. "I already know Leonard's plan."
Her smile widened slightly.
"But I don't understand what you gain from it," he continued. "Or why you want to kill the other candidates."
Rosalin circled him slowly, her bare feet silent against the blood-stained marble.
"Leonard," she said, her voice almost reverent, "is the son of the Goddess Moonlight. His power is absolute."
She stopped behind him.
"By following him… I ensure my survival."
Her voice dropped.
"And as for your dear Utsuki… and the others…"
She leaned closer.
"They're just a bonus."
Toki's hand trembled slightly on his sword.
"If I don't rule this kingdom," she whispered, "then there won't be a kingdom at all."
Her tone shifted.
"And if they stand in my way…"
"I'll crush them like insects."
Something inside Toki snapped.
For a moment—
He considered it.
Drawing his blade,ending her here,before tomorrow.
But he didn't move.
Because he knew.
If he broke the pact with Leonard now—
Everything would collapse.
And it would all be for nothing.
Rosalin melted into blood once more, slipping across the floor like a living shadow before reforming behind him.
Her breath brushed against his ear.
"I'd advise you to take your hand off your sword," she whispered. "I know about your pact with Leonard."
A soft laugh.
"And we both know it wouldn't be wise to betray him."
Toki exhaled slowly.
Then let go.
Rosalin stepped back, smiling.
"You see?" she said. "We understand each other."
She tilted her head again, studying him more closely now.
"You know… I can understand your frustration."
Her eyes gleamed.
"We're both Star Collectors."
"Both forced to hide what we truly are."
Toki's gaze sharpened.
"Your manacore gives you control over blood," he said. "Which means you've been collecting it from your victims."
His voice hardened.
"You're going to use it to create the dragons tomorrow."
Rosalin's smile deepened.
"Well… aren't you impressive?"
Toki didn't react.
"Where did you get it?" he asked. "Your manacore."
"The Church of Moonlight," she said slowly, "has conducted many experiments over the years."
Her eyes darkened slightly.
"Combining fragments from multiple manacores… trying to create something whole."
"Hundreds of children failed."
Her voice remained calm.
Detached.
"As did my little sister… Lilith."
Toki's breath hitched slightly.
"But I…" she continued, placing a hand over her chest, "was the only success."
Her smile returned.
"It is my destiny to pursue power."
Her gaze lifted slightly, as if looking beyond the world itself.
"To become a goddess."
Toki's expression hardened.
"What happened to the others?"
Rosalin stepped closer.
Very close.
Her voice dropped to a whisper that felt like ice crawling beneath his skin.
"The rest were killed."
"And their blood… became mine."
Toki felt his stomach turn.
"Lilith survived," Rosalin added lightly. "Only because I promised our mother I'd protect her."
A soft laugh escaped her lips.
"I'm a very merciful goddess."
Toki looked at her and felt nothing but disgust.
"You're vile."
Rosalin didn't flinch.
Instead, she smiled.
"You're cruel, Toki."
She stepped back, extending her hand toward him.
"But I want to show you my kindness."
"I'll make you an offer."
Her eyes gleamed.
"After I get rid of that thorn named Utsuki… I'll make you my knight."
Toki's gaze didn't waver.
"And Reginald?"
A faint chuckle.
"He's already fulfilled his purpose," she said. "But you…"
She took another step closer.
"…you could be far more useful."
Her hand remained extended.
"Kneel," she said softly. "And I'll give you power."
"Love."
"Everything Utsuki could never offer you."
Toki turned, not toward her but away.
"We'll meet tomorrow," he said calmly. "At the lunar eclipse."
He paused.
"Choose your words carefully."
His voice lowered.
"Because tomorrow… will be the last day of your life."
Rosalin laughed softly.
"You're playing hard to get."
Her eyes gleamed with twisted amusement.
"I like you even more now."
Toki didn't respond.
He walked toward the exit.
Didn't look back .
The doors opened.
And he stepped into the cold night air once more.
The doors of the Berg manor closed behind Toki with a muted finality, the sound barely louder than a breath, yet heavy enough to feel like the sealing of a fate already set in motion.
For a moment, he simply stood there.
Trying to steady the storm that Rosalin had stirred inside him.
Footsteps approached from behind.
Reginald.
Toki didn't turn right away, but he could feel him there. The man's presence was like a blade kept sheathed: controlled, restrained, but never harmless.
"Done already?" Reginald asked, his tone flat, almost indifferent.
Toki finally turned, his eyes meeting his.
"Yes."
That was all he said.
Nothing more.
Reginald studied him for a brief moment, as if searching for something but Toki's expression gave him nothing.
So he simply nodded and began walking.
"Come," he said. "I'll take you back to the gate."
They walked side by side through the silent estate grounds, their footsteps the only sound breaking the stillness. The moonlight stretched their shadows long across the stone path, distorting them into something unfamiliar—two figures walking together, yet separated by everything that mattered.
Umma was already waiting near the gate, her massive form still and watchful. The moment Toki approached, her head lifted slightly, her sharp eyes scanning him, as if checking whether he had returned whole.
He reached her first, placing a hand against her neck.
"I'm alright," he murmured softly.
She let out a low sound.
Toki took a step back, preparing to mount her—
But he stopped.
Something held him in place.
He turned.
Reginald was standing a few steps behind him.
Toki looked at him.
"Why do you stay with her… when you know what she's doing?"
The question hung in the air, sharp and unyielding.
Reginald didn't answer immediately.
Instead, his gaze hardened slightly, a faint edge creeping into his otherwise controlled demeanor.
"…Isn't it the same reason you stay with that white-haired witch?" he replied.
The words were meant to provoke.
But they didn't.
Toki didn't get angry.
Didn't snap.
Didn't raise his voice.
Instead—
Something softer appeared on his face.
Sadness.
A quiet, aching sadness that settled into his expression like a shadow.
"If you truly loved her…" Toki said slowly, "you wouldn't have let her become this."
Reginald's composure cracked.
"What do you know?!" he snapped, the sharpness in his voice cutting through the night.
It was the first real emotion he had shown.
And it said everything.
Toki didn't flinch.
"I know more than you think," he replied calmly.
His voice remained steady, but there was something deeper beneath it now. Something painfully honest.
"Because I would rather kill Utsuki myself… than watch her turn into something else."
The words landed like a hammer.
Reginald froze.
For a moment, the world seemed to still around them.
Toki's gaze didn't waver.
"I've seen what happens when you hesitate," he continued quietly. "When you tell yourself there's still time… when you pretend things haven't gone too far."
His voice lowered slightly.
"And then one day… they're gone."
"Or worse."
Reginald's hands tightened at his sides.
"If you're trying to convince me to change something…" he said slowly, his voice returning to that cold, controlled tone, "…you can leave."
His eyes locked onto Toki's.
"What will happen tomorrow… will happen."
"And I will stand by her until the very last second."
There was no hesitation.
"You can call me selfish," he continued. "For abandoning my brothers. My kingdom. My duty."
"But none of that matters to me."
His voice hardened.
"The only thing that matters… is Rosalin."
The words echoed in the night like a vow carved into stone.
Toki listened.
And for a moment—
He understood.
Because the feeling Reginald was describing…
He knew it too well.
Toki turned back toward Umma, placing his foot into the stirrup before pulling himself up onto her back in one smooth motion. He settled into place, his posture steady, his expression calm once more.
Then he looked down at Reginald.
"I can't judge you," he said quietly.
"I'm not sure I would have chosen a different path… if I were in your place."
Reginald's eyes narrowed slightly.
Toki exhaled.
"We're more alike than you think."
The words weren't meant as comfort.
They were simply… true.
"Maybe in another life…" Toki continued, "…we could have been friends."
Toki's gaze sharpened.
"But tomorrow…"
His voice lowered.
"I will kill Rosalin."
"And if you choose to stand beside her…"
"…you'll share her fate."
Umma shifted beneath him, sensing the change, her wings twitching slightly as if eager to leave.
Toki gave a light signal.
And she moved.
Reginald remained where he stood.
Alone.
Until they disappeared into the night.
The wind rushed past Toki's face as Umma cut through the darkness, her speed relentless, her movements precise. The estate vanished behind them, swallowed by distance and shadow, but its presence lingered in his mind like a stain that refused to fade.
Toki leaned forward slightly, his hand gripping the base of her neck.
Then slowly—
He lowered his head.
Resting his forehead against her feathers.
"I didn't change anything…" he whispered.
The words were quiet.
Barely audible beneath the wind.
He had gone there with a purpose.
Rosalin would still move forward.
The massacre would still come.
The dragons would still rise.
Toki clenched his eyes shut for a brief moment.
No.
That wasn't entirely true.
Something had changed.
Not the outcome.
But the lines had been drawn.
Clearer now.
And Reginald…
Toki exhaled slowly.
"That's not someone I can save…"
The realization settled in his chest, quiet but firm.
Reginald had already chosen his path.
Just like Toki had.
And tomorrow—
Those paths would collide.
There would be no turning back.
One ending.
Toki opened his eyes again, his gaze lifting toward the distant lights of the capital.
The city was still alive.
Toki straightened slightly on Umma's back, his expression hardening as his thoughts shifted forward.
There was still work to do.
A faint, humorless smile touched his lips.
"Now comes the hard part…"
His men.
"I think I know where they are…"