Reborn As Papa Silva

Sometimes a deal with the devil is better than no deal at all - Lawrence Hill

—

House Silva, Master Bedroom

Sebastian looked at his stiff wife in confusion, placing a hand on her shoulder, concern etched on his face.

"Acier, is everything all right—"

"No." Acier cut him off, turning to face him, brows furrowed as she shook her head and bit her lip. "I can feel two large devilish signatures from afar… near our eastern and western borders…"

She trailed off, her confusion deepening as she struggled to articulate her words. "I know exactly how a devil feels, and this is… a bit different."

Huh?

Sebastian blinked, his mind blanking for a moment before he tensed at the sensation of a call at his side.

Unconsciously, he reached into his satchel, hooking his arm around the grip of his transponder and pulling it out, eyes narrowing as he saw it glowing brightly.

Recognizing the mana signature from the magic game, he raised a brow and spoke into the head of the communication device.

"Loyce?"

Acier stilled as the voice of the rightful king of Spade came out of the gem, hurried and slightly panicked.

"Sebastian! T-the two ancient demons have been unsealed!"

Acier and Sebastian froze while Loyce carried on.

"I—I can sense them clearly because of my house's old seal. One is attacking Diamond, the other Heart as we speak!"

Sebastian's brow shot up before he abruptly cleared his throat and spoke curtly into the gem. "Got it. We'll handle it. Thank you."

Loyce let out an audible sigh of relief before speaking hesitantly. "Should I—I do anything? Or go a-anywhere—"

"No." Sebastian cut Loyce off firmly. "Hage is a good deal away from Heart's and Diamond's borders. There's no need to evacuate or cause mass panic. Just stay where you are and act like nothing happened. Though, if you do feel those monsters approaching, then take matters into your own hands."

The line went silent for a moment before Loyce's heavy sigh came again.

"All right. You should be careful."

"You too," Sebastian echoed before cutting the connection. He turned to look at his wife, who was already across the room, standing on the balcony rail, poised to take to the air.

"And where are you going?" Sebastian asked rhetorically, his tone a frustrated grumble.

Acier looked back over her shoulder, giving her husband a weird look. "What does it look like? To deal with those things, of course."

Sebastian fought the urge to roll his eyes. "I can see that. But why?"

Acier scrunched her brows in displeasure. "Sebby, is this really the time for a conversation?"

Sebastian crossed his arms. "Don't act like I'm the one acting weird. There's no way your mind isn't ringing alarm bells, telling you a trap is written all over this. You're jumping the gun."

Taking a moment to decipher her husband's strange analogies, Acier nodded. "True. But if I don't do anything, a lot of people are going to die."

Sebastian was now standing right behind her, whispering softly. "True. But none of our people."

Acier froze.

Sebastian carried on. "You're not a hero, Acier. You're a soldier. A soldier of this nation. Even if it pained me—if Clover were being attacked and you insisted on leaving to fight, I wouldn't get in your way, because that's your duty. But I can't accept you putting yourself at risk for other kingdoms."

Acier trembled slightly before turning gracefully on the railing, crouching down so she was eye level with her husband.

Her steady lavenders locked with Sebastian's calm ocean blues as she gently reached out, placing a hand on his cheek.

"I can handle a demon."

Sebastian grabbed her hand, holding it firmly against his face. "I know you can. But that's not what I'm worried about. It's what may be behind it… that damn parasite may be up to something—"

"Sebby." Acier cut him off, her irises shaking with intensity. "I know that. But after Heart and Diamond, those monsters might very well make their way to Clover—destroying our kingdom, slaughtering our people. I'd rather fight such a battle outside our borders before the conflict makes its way here and puts those I actually care about at risk."

Sebastian clenched his jaw and bit his lip before spitting out hoarsely, "Go to Heart. I don't like Diamond."

Acier grinned, her face lighting up. "Neither do I." Then, without a word, she stood up—only to pause and look down at her husband in curiosity.

"You're not coming with me?"

Sebastian chuckled self-deprecatingly. "I'd only get in your way and distract you."

Acier's features softened. She said nothing as she began to float upwards—only to freeze midair.

She blinked, looking outward. "Seems like I'm not needed."

"Huh?" Sebastian raised a brow.

—

Seabed Temple

Rumble! Rumble!

The ancient undersea city, lying east of the Clover Kingdom, off the shore of Raque, shook again and again.

Its inhabitants trembled, all prostrating before a sacred statue sculpted in a time unknown.

It was a large stone model of a fierce-looking, bearded, half-naked man, sporting a crown and long, flowing hair. He sat cross-legged, holding a massive trident pointed directly at the ceiling.

The city shook further, the people of the temple trembling with it, remaining in their position of prostration.

At the forefront of the crowd stood the high priest of the temple, Gifso—a man in his seventies who, despite his age, radiated an energy far beyond his years. His nearly eternal smile had vanished, replaced by abject horror. Tears welled in his eyes, snot ran down his nose, and his teeth gritted as he spoke to the idol.

"Sea God! Oh, great god of the sea, have we sinners done something to anger you? If so, please pass judgment on me and spare the others!"

No answer came. The shaking continued, producing light cracks in the stone floor.

Gifso wept, glancing over his shoulder at his son and daughter-in-law, who trembled as they clutched his grandson and infant granddaughter protectively.

He was helpless and confused—until one of the priests hesitantly spoke.

"I-Is it the t-time foretold in legend? The end of the world?"

Gifso froze, breath hitching, while hushed murmurs rippled through the crowd.

The Sea God had been venerated at the underwater temple since antiquity, and an old prophecy had been passed down since their people first settled here:

When the world's end is nigh, the dragon of the fierce seas will awaken from its long slumber.

And then it will be free to rage, go berserk, and do battle against those who threaten the world—a catastrophe that can only be quelled by another catastrophe.

Gifso blinked, feeling panic rising among his people—until his face turned red with fury, and he barked at the priest who had spoken.

"What end of the world?! It's Tuesday! Take your conspiracies somewhere else!"

The priest froze. So did the crowd. Then, they exchanged glances, nodded, and murmured in agreement—That makes sense—before resuming their pious prostration, hoping to connect with and calm their god.

That left only the priest still sitting up, his face blank and bewildered.

Am I stupid or something? Why can't the end of the world happen on a Tuesday?

Absent-mindedly, he prostrated once more, still shaking from the rumbling.

—

Spade Kingdom, Throne Room

Rather than focusing on the two large magic projections before him, Samyaza's gaze was directed east—toward Clover.

His sight stretched across hundreds of miles, past Spade, Diamond, and various grand magic zones, down toward the ocean shore of Raque.

Samyaza smiled softly and whispered, just loud enough for himself to hear, "No need to get so excited. You'll get the chance to reclaim your honor soon enough."

—

Seabed Temple

As soon as Samyaza uttered those words, the rumbling ceased immediately.

The people of the Seabed Temple froze—then erupted into cheers, shooting to their feet and bowing again and again in gratitude to the Sea God statue.

Gifso twirled his mustache and turned to the same priest, snorting.

"See? The Sea God was merely upset about something. Maybe he had a stomach ache."

The priest stared blankly, lowering his head. He had a lot of choice words for the high priest—but he kept them to himself.

—

Moments Before – Diamond Kingdom

The bulky ancient demon edged forward toward Diamond's castle walls, each colossal step stomping down with enough force to shake the earth, tearing up and reshaping the land in its path.

Mountains and cliffs crumbled to rubble. The glorified slaves of Diamond, toiling in and around the mines, trembled and screamed in fear, convinced the caves and caverns would collapse on them at any moment.

Yet none dared to flee—not because they didn't want to, but because obedience had been ingrained into their minds and bodies. And right now, stepping outside was far more terrifying.

The mage warriors and guards watching over them shared the same fear. They didn't want to go outside either—but they didn't have a choice.

Magic projections flared across the kingdom, barking orders.

Every mage warrior, above and below ground, was forced to grab the nearest broom and take to the skies, heading straight toward the approaching giant.

They broke into a sweat beneath their robes and hoods. Hundreds upon hundreds shot up like rockets from countless directions, homing missiles locked onto the demon.

The farther they flew, the faster they went, fueled by adrenaline, rage, and desperation. They channeled every ounce of mana within them.

It was a mighty sight—for a moment. Then it wasn't.

At around a hundred meters from the demon, they began to slow.

The sheer pressure radiating from the beast made it hard to breathe, hard to think.

And then there were its wings.

The massive, ancient wings drained mana—not just from the air, but from everyone who entered their range.

The mages, already teetering on the edge of panic, lost control of their magic.

And the negative mana pouring off the demon was the final straw.

Despair settled in.

Defeat set in.

Before they even fought.

One by one, they began to fall, their brooms spinning wildly.

Some flailed desperately, clinging on for dear life—maybe out of fear, maybe because they truly wanted to fight.

But it was pointless.

The ancient demon opened its mouth.

And then—

A deep, bellowing roar, infused with pure mana.

"RAWWRRR!!!"

Multiple sonic booms shattered the air.

Gigantic rings of sound exploded outward, tearing through everything in their wake.

The mages' brooms splintered into wooden shrapnel. Many of the warriors themselves burst into showers of gore and blood.

The magic barrier encasing the Diamond Kingdom didn't last more than a moment. It shattered like fragile glass.

The outer kingdom walls—tall and mighty for a millennium—crumbled to dust.

Agonized, blood curdling screams rang out.

The infantry guarding the walls. The citizens who hadn't evacuated in time.

Below, more screams erupted as the mines caved in, one after another, collapsing like dominos—trapping, crushing, suffocating those inside.

And through it all, the ancient demon never stopped moving.

Its steps were slow.

But so large—

That in just two more strides, it was standing atop the ruins of the outer walls.

The ancient demon spread all four of its arms wide in front of its maw, gathering mana once more—this time, in its grasp.

Like a vacuum, it drained the ambient mana from the atmosphere, corrupting it into something vile and unholy. A writhing, unstable sphere manifested in its hands—purple, black, and red, pulsing like a living thing.

The demon compressed it, forcing its chaotic mass into a single, perfect sphere.

Well, perfect for it.

And then, it prepared to fire.

But it wasn't the only one ready to strike.

High above the kingdom, seven figures stood in defiance, cold sweat trickling down their faces as they glared at the monster.

The last remaining Shining Generals.

Magic projections broadcast their images across the kingdom, filling the hearts of survivors with hope—fragile, fleeting hope.

The generals raised their hands, channeling every ounce of mana they had left.

"Red Ochre Magic…"

"Flame Magic…"

"Explosive Magic…"

"Thunder Magic…"

"Burn Magic…"

"Air Magic…"

"Lightning Magic…"

"DIE, YOU FILTHY DEMON!!!"

Seven beams of destruction shot forth, intertwining midair into a swirling, multicolored lance of devastation.

It streaked toward the ancient demon like judgment itself.

And then, the demon fired.

The perfect sphere surged forward—

Colliding head-on with the beam.

The sheer force of their power meeting split the sky in two, shattering the air with concussive force.

For a moment, it seemed the generals' attack would punch straight through the sphere. The unstable orb bent inward, as if on the verge of collapsing—

But then it swelled.

The beam twisted unnaturally, pulled into the sphere's orbit, spiraling around it before vanishing inside.

The sphere pulsed—its color shifting into a shimmering, corrupted rainbow.

The generals' pupils shrank in horror.

The sphere expanded, growing larger than the demon's face, trembling violently—

Like a bomb seconds from detonation.

Their instincts screamed at them to flee.

But instead, they charged forward.

Pouring the last of their mana into it—restraining, containing, anything to keep it from—

BOOM.

The sphere detonated.

Agony tore through them. Their flesh flaked from their bones, their bodies bleeding from every pore—

Yet they grinned through the pain.

Manic, desperate, defiant.

And then—

Their mana gave out.

And they were consumed.

The entire kingdom turned white.

Buildings, streets, people—incinerated.

The shockwaves rolled outward in deafening bursts, shaking what little remained.

When the dust settled, the Diamond Kingdom lay in ruins.

Flattened.

Burned.

Save for a few settlements beyond the walls.

Save for the royal castle—its final barrier still intact.

And the dungeon beneath it—safe, for now.

None of the generals remained.

The survivors, those who had managed to endure, lifted their heads—

And saw the ancient demon.

Untouched.

Unharmed.

Unstoppable.

And without hesitation—

It began charging another sphere.

This time, aimed directly at the royal castle.

Seated upon his throne, Edelstein trembled.

Emaciated, wrinkled, barely clinging to strength—his ears rang, his pupils quivered, his body shuddered uncontrollably.

Beyond the throne, his advisors pleaded.

"Your Majesty, we must flee!"

"Please, Your Highness!"

But Edelstein barely listened.

With a frail, dismissive flick of his fingers, he spat, "Y-you all b-begone... I-I'm not g-going anywhere!!!"

A moment of hesitation.

Then, helpless glances were exchanged between chancellors, ministers, and councilmen.

Teeth clenched.

Feet turned.

One last look—before they abandoned him, vanishing through the back doors.

Edelstein remained.

His bloodshot eyes fixed on the magic projections before him.

One screen showed the ancient demon, still powering up its next attack.

Another, the ruins of his kingdom—shattered stone, streets soaked in blood, corpses strewn without dignity.

The final screen displayed the survivors—few, pitiful, kneeling in silence, their eyes devoid of light.

Tears welled in Edelstein's eyes. His lips trembled. His voice came out hoarse, brittle, broken.

"F-Father, f-forgive me… Edelstein is too incompetent… if i-it was you h-here instead of me… i-if it was y-you—"

He hung his head, shame curling through his chest, as he cursed—cursed this fragile, wretched body of his for the hundredth time.

Then, he saw it—the sphere of destruction, forming once more in the demon's grasp.

Edelstein laughed.

Crazed. Hysterical.

"G-get on with it, y-you filthy demon! W-what are you w-waiting for—"

"Not bad."

Edelstein froze.

A voice—male, smooth, laced with mischief and something... dark.

Calm. Indifferent. Seductive.

Yet it echoed inside his mind.

His eyes widened. He jerked his head around, weakly searching.

"W-who is that?"

Silence.

Edelstein chuckled—empty, broken. "Heh… heh heh… how pathetic I am. Losing myself in my final moments—"

"The pathetic part might be true, but you are not losing yourself."

The voice cut through his thoughts once more.

A shiver ran up his spine.

He opened his mouth, about to speak—

"We don't have time for chit-chat, so I'll cut to the chase.

Do you wish to avert disaster?

Do you wish to save your kingdom?

Live up to your father's legacy?

Stop this madness?

Do you wish to do any of those things?"

Edelstein went still.

His gaze returned to the projection of the demon.

The growing sphere of devastation.

At that moment—amidst the ruin, the carnage, the despair—he felt something.

Clarity.

He didn't ask who the voice belonged to.

He didn't ask what it wanted.

How it could help.

Why it had come.

None of it mattered.

He licked his dry lips, and answered with a single word.

A word that held the weight of his kingdom's fate.

"Yes."

"Heh."

A chuckle—low, knowing, amused.

Then, a whisper—soft as a breath, yet resonating deep in his soul.

"Healthy."

And Edelstein began to glow.

—

House Faust

Lilith stilled.

For the first time in decades, her composure cracked—brows shooting upward, lips parting slightly.

In a whisper, she murmured, "The restriction I left in Edelstein's mind... is gone."

Silence.

Across from her, Draven and Azazel froze.

Draven's pupils shrank.

Azazel's beady white eyes narrowed.

—

Diamond Kingdom

The ancient demon compressed its sphere—ready to fire.

But then, it froze.

Its gaze shifted—silent, calculating—as it turned toward the royal castle.

And it wasn't alone.

The few survivors of the Diamond Kingdom, broken and bloodied, turned their heads as well.

Their backs straightened.

Their listless eyes sharpened.

Something overwhelmed the certainty of death—a flicker of hope.

The castle was glowing.

Bathed in white.

And from within, they felt it—mana.

Not just any mana.

A colossal presence.

The strongest any of them had ever felt.

Stronger—even—than the demon itself.

The ancient demon stilled.

The swirling energy around its sphere began to dissipate as its hunched posture straightened, instincts screaming at it to pay attention.

To recognize.

To acknowledge.

It had spent its existence acting on a singular impulse—destroy, destroy, destroy.

But now?

Something in that castle…

Something inside it demanded respect.

The demon waited.

Watched.

Its dark light flickered—trembled.

And then, the white radiance shifted.

For a brief moment, it turned a burnished orange.

Then, a deep gold.

Then—it vanished.

And in its place—

A flicker.

A speck.

Just outside the demon's range of absorption, it manifested.

Magic projections captured the figure immediately, displaying it across the kingdom.

Every survivor saw.

And in that instant—their breath hitched.

A man stood before the demon.

Tall. Mighty.

Broad-shouldered. Built like a war god.

A man of long, golden-blonde hair.

Brilliant sapphire eyes.

Healthy, vibrant skin that seemed to radiate power itself.

The people of Diamond stiffened.

"Y-Your Majesty?"

Disbelief.

Shock.

Their king was a frail, bald, emaciated husk of a man—more skeleton than flesh.

A man who had withered beneath the weight of weakness.

But this?

This was not the king they knew.

And yet—

His crown.

The crown upon his head told them otherwise.

Some believed they were hallucinating.

That this was the ghost of their old king, Goldstein, returned from the grave to save them.

Because there was no way—no possible way—this man was Edelstein F. Diamondhart.

And yet—

Each of them felt it.

A call.

A pull deep within their hearts and souls.

This was their king.

Whether they had seen Edelstein before or not—whether they had known Goldstein or not—it didn't matter.

The truth resonated within them, a certainty beyond logic.

This man—this warrior-king floating above them—was their ruler.

Their sovereign.

And then—they noticed.

Something—no, someone—was perched on Edelstein's shoulder.

And once again, the people of Diamond froze.

The survivors' eyes locked onto a tiny imp, barely the size of a child, with large shoe-like feet and a body resembling a garden gnome. A pointed cone hat sat atop its head, and its white skin had a faint orange-brown luster.

It looked... innocent. Almost like a baby just beginning to understand the world.

Edelstein curled his left arm and gently patted the imp's head, whispering, "Gnome."

The imp blinked, then tilted its head up at him with wide, curious eyes. "Gnome? Is that my name?"

Edelstein nodded. "Yes. You're the earth spirit, Gnome."

Another blink. Then a slow, growing smile. "If you say so. I like that name."

Gnome's little mouth opened again. "You seem a bit familiar."

Edelstein crossed his arms. "You were contracted to my father before." He paused, biting his lip. "Perhaps I resemble him… somewhat." His voice trailed off, uncertain.

He didn't know how he looked now.

For a brief moment, he wanted nothing more than to find a mirror—to see this new self, to confirm if he truly appeared as healthy as he felt. But now wasn't the time.

Gnome blinked, then nodded. "Makes sense. I guess you're my contractor now…" The little spirit trailed off as it finally took notice of the monstrous ancient demon looming in the distance.

A moment of silence. Then Gnome turned back to Edelstein, tilting his head. "Do you need my help—"

"No." Edelstein cut him off with a firm shake of his head. His gaze sharpened. "I can handle it. You just rest in my grimoire. We'll talk later."

Gnome blinked again before offering an innocent smile. "Alright. I'm tired anyway."

With that, the earth spirit dissolved into motes of brownish light, sinking into Edelstein's grimoire, where a new page of ancient, archaic writing formed in response.

Edelstein clenched his fist. Then, as if walking on air, he moved forward.

Toward the demon.

This wasn't arrogance.

Edelstein had always possessed too much mana. More than anyone in his family's history, according to his father. So much that his body had never been able to withstand it. He had been born a ticking time bomb, a vessel on the verge of bursting apart at any moment.

That was why he had always looked like a sickly corpse.

Why, despite his immense power, he had never been able to use it.

Why, even with an arsenal of spells, he had never dared to cast a single one.

It had consumed him—this desire to fix himself, to gain the strength that should have always been his. Not just for his own sake, but for his kingdom. For the father who had died trying to save him.

He had tolerated Morris' twisted research, had allowed those experiments to continue, no matter the sacrifices. All in pursuit of a cure.

And yet, it had come back to bite him.

Morris, ever the mad scientist, had grown too bold. He had tried to steal the kingdom. Had even enslaved Edelstein himself.

After breaking free from that control, Edelstein hadn't killed him. He had him tortured, beaten—enough to ease his fury somewhat. But no matter how tempting it had been, he never had Morris executed.

Because Morris was still useful.

Because Edelstein still needed him.

Because, after all these years, he had still clung to the hope that the man who had ruined him might one day fix him.

Yet in the end, his salvation had come from elsewhere.

It had happened suddenly. Without warning.

And it was perfect.

For the first time in his life, Edelstein felt whole.

His body no longer rejected his mana—it embraced it. His power no longer weighed him down—it flowed effortlessly through his veins. Without ever training, without ever using magic before, he had instinctively grasped the technique to fly.

And not just that.

He could feel it.

The potential.

The sheer limitless potential coursing through his body.

And now?

He intended to test it.

The mysterious benefactor behind this transformation could wait. Their motives, their schemes, their price—those were concerns for later.

Right now, only one thing mattered.

The threat standing in front of him.

Edelstein's mana flared outward, clashing violently with the Ancient Demon's corrupted, negative energy.

"RAWWRR!!!"

The demon stepped forward, its monstrous form trembling with power. Edelstein's grimoire floated before him, pages turning as he raised his open palm toward the beast.

"Mana Zone, Earth Magic: Gaia's Platform!"

The Ancient Demon froze.

The ground beneath it shuddered. Then it rose.

Not by its own will—not by the force of its wings—but because the very earth itself was carving upwards, reshaping reality at Edelstein's command.

Higher.

Higher.

The demon struggled, but it was trapped—unable to move, unable to resist—as the land beneath it surged skyward like a cannonball.

And then—it stopped.

Suspended high in the stratosphere, the chunk of land floated, outlined in an orange glow.

Edelstein didn't hesitate. His grimoire flipped again.

He pointed downward, toward his ruined kingdom.

"Mana Zone, Earth Recovery Magic: Gaia's Embrace!"

The people of Diamond turned in shock.

From the shattered ruins, something stirred.

A great earthen statue rose from the rubble, light green in color. It depicted a breathtakingly beautiful woman, her long, flowing hair branching outward like roots. In her arms, she cradled a sphere—a perfect representation of the planet itself.

The statue's serene smile radiated warmth.

And then, the sphere glowed. A soft, light orange.

All at once, the same glow enveloped every survivor—whether they stood in the open, lay trapped beneath debris, or were buried deep within the mines.

A warmth embraced them. A presence.

It calmed their frenzied minds, soothed their panicked souls. Their wounds—some fatal, others deep—began to heal.

And then, the rubble that had once trapped them rose.

Gravity had reversed, pulling the debris skyward, freeing those who had been buried alive.

Edelstein gently waved his hand.

The floating ruins shot away into the distance, leaving nothing but an empty, flattened kingdom—stripped bare, yet alive.

Then, with a flicker of movement, Edelstein vanished.

Miles above, he reappeared.

Face to face with the Ancient Demon.

His expression was calm. Icy. Indifferent.

He opened his mouth.

"I'm your enemy. Your battle is with me and me alone."

The Ancient Demon hesitated.

The platform beneath it began to glow—expand—stretching outward kilometers in all directions.

The sky darkened.

The sun was blotted out.

And then—

The Ancient Demon grinned.

A beastly, primitive smile.

It lunged, arms swinging.

—

Moments Before – Heart Kingdom

The lanky Ancient Demon stomped forward, each step shaking the earth.

Without hesitation, it passed through the grand magic barrier engulfing the kingdom—shattering it like glass.

Screams erupted.

The people of Heart ran, terror driving them westward as the monstrous giant advanced.

Not far away, a small girl—no older than six or seven—stood frozen. Her blue eyes quivered behind large, rimless glasses, her short black bobbed hair trembling as she shivered. Tears welled in her eyes.

She was about to scream—

Something clamped around her wrist.

She gasped, jerking her head back.

A boy, nearly twice her age, stood there. His athletic frame tensed, spiky black hair damp with sweat.

"Gadjah…" Lolopechka whimpered.

Gadjah hissed through clenched teeth. "Princess Lolopechka, why are you just standing there?! We need to leave—now!"

She trembled. Tears fell freely as she took in the chaos—the fear, the stampede of her people running for their lives.

"B-but what about them—"

"That's not your concern!"

Gadjah yanked her forward, hoisting her onto his shoulders before breaking into a sprint—away from the behemoth.

"M-my father and the other Spirit Guardians are evacuating the others! Y-you need not worry about them! As the future of the kingdom, your life is more valuable than any of ours!"

Lolopechka struggled against his hold.

Her wide, terrified eyes watched as her people were crushed beneath the demon's feet.

She wanted to scream.

She wanted to fight.

But then—she saw Gadjah's trembling shoulders. The fear in his face. The self-loathing in his eyes. The silent worry for his own father.

Lolopechka stilled.

She pressed her face against Gadjah's back, muffling her sobs.

"U-Undine… G-Grandma… w-where are you—"

Her voice stopped.

And then—the world stopped.

Gadjah froze mid-stride.

The Ancient Demon halted.

The people of Heart gasped as they felt it—

A presence.

A mana unlike anything they had ever known.

Pure.

Holy.

A radiant blue glow swallowed their vision.

Then, above them, a massive magical projection flickered into existence.

All breath stilled.

A woman appeared.

She floated high above the clouds—not standing on vapor, but a cloud of water.

Her robes, long and flowing, were made of crystal-clear liquid. Her light blue hair rippled like a stream, drifting with an ethereal grace.

Above her head hovered a floral wreath—woven entirely of water, glowing like a divine halo.

Two feathered wings, sculpted from liquid, spread from her back.

Lolopechka rubbed her teary eyes in disbelief.

"G-Grandma?"

The woman before her looked nothing like the frail, wrinkled, hunched old grandmother she knew—

Yet Lolopechka knew.

Without a doubt, this was her beloved grandmother.

And yet… it felt like she was looking at Undine, too.

The confusion twisted inside her.

The woman raised a golden priestess staff, the tip glowing with divine blue light.

Her lips parted.

Her voice, calm and indifferent, reverberated everywhere.

"Spirit Guardians, evacuate everyone to my temple. I will deal with this monstrosity."

Around her staff, golden magic sigils and intricate runes swirled, arranging themselves into a massive hexagram array.

Her voice turned bored. Almost dismissive.

"Mana Zone + Mana Method: Saint Wave of Repulsion."

BOOM.

A massive tidal wave—towering over even the Ancient Demon—erupted out of nowhere.

Before the creature could react, the surge slammed into it.

A roar of pain tore from its throat.

The water—the pure, holy water—burned.

It was its natural enemy.

The enemy of all negative mana.

The demon thrashed.

But the current swept it away—dragging it backward, hurling it toward the very summoning circle from which it had emerged.

Its skin sizzled, steam rising as purification seared through it.

Then, slowly…

The burning stopped.

The wounds began to heal.

Yet something in the demon's eyes had changed.

It was no longer just angry.

It was afraid.

Four monstrous hands spread forward, a swirling mass of negativity forming between them—

A compressed sphere of pure, concentrated destruction.

The woman above snorted.

Then—she shot forward like a missile.

—

Spade Kingdom – Throne Room

Samyaza's eyes flicked to the radiant halo above Queen Isolde's head.

For a moment, he simply stared.

Then, he clicked his tongue in derision.

"Pathetic imitation."

Yet, as his gaze drifted over the intricate magic runes and arrays, a chuckle rumbled from his throat.

A hint of approval laced his voice.

"Far inferior to the ones back in my day… but still, you humans have done well for yourselves when it comes to spell forms."

Dante blinked.

Curious. Confused.

"What are you talking about?"

Samyaza didn't answer.

Dante's brow twitched in irritation, but he calmed himself with a slow breath.

Instead, he turned toward the floating screen—where Edelstein stood poised for battle against the demon.

"Why'd you help that guy out?" His eyes narrowed. "And how were you even able to do that?"

Samyaza sighed.

Then, he turned—his smile soft.

"My child, nothing will be interesting if I simply give you the answers. You're a smart man—take your time to think."

His voice carried an amused lilt.

"But that's for another time. Right now, you should watch. We have a long day ahead of us, and it's not every day one is met with such a grand show."

He gestured lazily toward the screen.

"Enjoy it. Relish it. Perhaps even learn from it. Watch. Observe."

Then, with a knowing smile—

"The fun is only beginning."

His voice dipped, teasing.

"Trust me when I say this—we have nothing but time. Time to relax. Time to fool around. Time to indulge."

"Don't take such time for granted."

Dante paused.

Then, he smirked, folding his hands behind his back.

"If you say so, lech. If you say so."

Samyaza's smile deepened.

His attention flicked back to the floating screens, his gaze drifting between the two demons.

His features softened.

A quiet chuckle.

"The stage has been set for you, my dear children."

"I've prepared opponents worthy of your final battles."

"Now—go in peace."

—

Author's Notes

[1] I've got an exam on the 25th and another on March 4th. Going on hiatus for a bit—maybe you'll get some updates in between, maybe not. Who knows?

Right now, I've got bigger things to focus on.

I've been procrastinating long enough.

[2] Feel free to join the Discord! https://discord.gg/s3MME8X8ar