Cid didn't dwell on the petty grudge. He slipped into "the state" almost immediately.
Or rather—he let his true nature show.
In the blink of an eye, he was wearing a grin more arrogant than anyone else's.
"So the thing we're destroying this time is just a door? How boring!"
Getting to act as Shadow in public without anyone suspecting his mob-character identity—this was bliss.
Cid raised his staff, and a terrifying mass of magic gathered in the air.
"Blacker than black, darker than darkness—pitch black!"
"At the moment of awakening, the fallen scripture of the absurd creed!"
"Become the formless distortion… and manifest!"
After finishing the chant with loud, theatrical cadence, he muttered one more line in a voice so small it was nearly inaudible.
"I am king."
Unfortunately, nobody had any mental bandwidth left to appreciate his performance.
All eyes were fixed on the surging, torrential pressure of that magic.
Raul: "That's huge… isn't it dangerous?!"
Ankie: "Idiot, meow! Once it's started, you can't stop it now, meow!"
Under their stunned stares, the Infernal Peerless Scorching Wave Cannon punched clean through the hidden door sealed by curses.
Only about three seconds later did the deafening boom finally arrive.
Some part of the Dark Faction—somewhere—had just been blown to pieces.
Then the whole area shook like an earthquake.
"Cid, you didn't just blow up the Dungeon, did you?!" Raul yelped, nearly losing his footing as panic hit him.
With that kind of power… he genuinely felt like the strike could destroy the Dungeon.
If someone told him it could pierce the stars, he'd believe it.
And if the Dungeon collapsed, Orario above it wouldn't be safe either.
"He looks like he's out of juice," Ankie said, catching the collapsed Cid and hauling him up.
It was only logical. A Level 2 throwing out something that monstrous would get drained to the last drop.
It wasn't that Cid was weak.
"This is Dragon-Slaying Magic…?" Ais's eyes had never looked brighter.
She was still young, but between her ridiculous talent and Riveria's constant guidance, she'd seen plenty.
Even so, she was willing to call this the strongest thing she'd ever witnessed.
If a Level 2 could do that, what would happen if Level 5 Riveria cast it?
No wonder it was called Dragon-Slaying Magic.
She wanted to learn it so badly it hurt.
"The commotion is too big," Riveria decided instantly. "We can't stay in the Dungeon. We're leaving—now."
It wasn't what Finn originally planned, but this was an unexpected development.
Finn wasn't some micromanagement deity; he understood the reality that once you're in the field, orders don't always fit.
More importantly, they needed to report the method of finding the Dark Faction's base as soon as possible.
"What's this…?" Cid, limp and half-asleep, thought he could finally rest while Raul carried him out.
Instead, a vial was shoved into his face.
"This is an Elixir. Drink it and all the magic you spent comes back instantly. Pretty awesome, right?" Raul said, giving a proud thumbs-up.
He figured someone from a not-so-wealthy Familia probably didn't get to see rare consumables like this very often.
"…Thanks," Cid said, taking the vial with trembling hands. "This really helps."
He actually knew exactly what it was—an extremely valuable potion said to restore all magic and even heal injuries, priced in the six digits.
Not even in the same universe as the cheap, three-digit stuff on the market.
The Astraea Familia was used to being poor; they only bought a few Elixirs for the most critical moments.
So Cid was the type who knew such potions existed… and then promptly forgot about them whenever he wasn't actively dying.
Like how everyone knows University of Tokyo football exists—but aside from its habitual humiliating defeats, nobody brings it up.
The moment he felt the tiny bit of magic he'd spent refill instantly, Cid slapped Raul hard on the thigh.
A fatal blunder. A fatal blunder!
…
Riveria led the four of them away, completely off-script.
That would inevitably disrupt Finn's original plan—but it also disrupted whatever counterplay the Dark Faction had prepared.
A pair of elf sisters who had been planning to come looking for Riveria lost their target.
A major battle was avoided—for the Loki Familia, that counted as a good thing.
And yet, the sisters' rage was never going to fade just because of that.
"Ahhh! I'm in the worst mood!" the older sister, Dina, snarled. "We were going to kill Riveria, and she just ran away!"
Dina was a white elf: long golden hair in a side ponytail to the right, a gold earring on her right ear, a flower hairpiece with white edges and a red center, and a tear-like marking beneath her left eye.
"Are you feeling it too, sis?" the younger sister, Veena, chimed in brightly, voice brimming with madness. "That feeling you've had since birth—wanting to kill everyone in the whole world!"
Veena was a black elf: long silver hair in twin-tails, a silver earring on her left ear, a flower hairpiece with red edges and a white center, and a tear-like marking beneath her right eye.
You didn't need any explanation; one glance was enough to see they were inseparable sisters.
But unlike the "noble elf" stereotype, neither of them was pure or virtuous.
They were both notorious lunatics.
"Luckily," Dina purred, "even if we didn't catch the main course… we caught a little snack."
"Exactly," Veena giggled. "And this one is the most hateful, most disgusting kind of elf—because the only real elves in this world are us!"
The two of them laughed until their bodies shook, splattering off the blood that covered them.
"Hah… hah…" Filvis trembled, tears gathered in her eyes. Even with her mind already fading, she forced herself to stay upright.
She wasn't crying from fear. She wasn't that cowardly.
She was crying because—just moments ago—her Familia companions had all died right in front of her.
Torn apart into pieces.
There had been a strange, massive explosion in the Dungeon earlier today. After discussing it, she and her companions decided to hide somewhere and return later, once things calmed down.
Instead, they stayed too long… and ran into the Dis Sisters.
Filvis hadn't endured this long because she was strong.
She was only twelve years old, and had only just reached Level 2.
Against the Dis Sisters, she was weaker than even the companions she'd been exploring with.
The only reason she was still alive was because the sisters didn't want to kill her too quickly.
They'd succeeded in what they wanted—forcing her to watch her companions die one by one, until something inside her broke.
A moment ago, she'd screamed and attacked them again and again, and of course it did nothing.
But her ugly, desperate struggle amused them, so they let it continue.
Now that she'd calmed down, Filvis understood she wasn't leaving here alive.
And she realized there was only one way to end the torture.
"You two are the Dis Sisters, right?" Filvis said, staring straight at them. "Everyone says you aren't elves at all… you're fiends."
Their delighted laughter stopped dead.
A short silence followed—so heavy it made the skin crawl.
There was a rumor about the Dis Sisters—those infamous Level 5 elf sisters—that many people knew.
They were elves, yes…
But their title was 'Fiends.'
It was the thing they hated most in the world.
Say that word to their faces, and at least you'd get a quick death.
"…You said it," the sisters spoke in perfect unison, their expressions twisting into dark, sinking fury for the first time.
What they hated even more was that Filvis—at this point—still dared to look them in the eyes.
In those eyes, it was as if the shape of "fiends" was reflected back at them.
"We'll kill you."
This time, the Dis Sisters had no interest in games.
If the next strike landed, Filvis would die on the spot.
And if their anger didn't cool, she might end up the same way as her companions.
"Everyone… I'm coming to you," Filvis whispered.
She still didn't close her eyes. She would face the last moment of her life head-on.
As an elf, she would never bow to fiends.
And then—at the very brink—
A sound came from behind them, at a diagonal angle.
It was the noise of a hidden door being opened.
Even the rage-filled Dis Sisters paused and turned.
A figure stepped out of the doorway.
Shadow.
His first glance took in the three elves—and the ground littered with severed limbs.
As if he understood everything at once, Shadow let out a long sigh.
"The evening wind… is crying.
....
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