(Planet Granada, Mauriss' POV)

Rain fell endlessly from the blackened heavens, not in sheets but in needles, each droplet striking the surface of the endless ocean below and vanishing without a trace, as lightning carved violent scars across the sky and thunder rolled in low, amused rumbles, as though the planet itself was complicit in the madness unfolding upon it.

At the center of it all, upon the only stretch of land that dared rise above the sea, Mauriss stood barefoot and bare-chested, his pale skin slick with rain, his long hair floating unnaturally around his head as he tilted his head back, and laughed.

"Ha…haha…hahaha…"

It was not loud at first.

Not explosive.

Just a soft, breathy sound that slipped past his lips as rain streamed down his face, as though the sky itself was whispering a private joke only he could hear.

"Hehehe…"

The laughter grew.

Slowly.

Uncontrollably.

Until it echoed across the empty sea, bouncing off thunder and lightning alike, as Mauriss spread his arms wide and welcomed the storm like an old friend.

"Ohhh… I've finally decided," he murmured, his voice light, almost playful, as his eyes shimmered with unrestrained delight. "I've been the hunter my entire life, savoring the chase, enjoying the thrill of cornering prey that never stood a chance…"

He let out a small sigh, almost wistful, as his fingers twitched.

"But these past few days," he continued, smiling wider, "I've realized something rather fascinating."

Lightning struck the ocean behind him, illuminating his expression for a split second.

"There's a special kind of fun in being the prey as well."

He chuckled again, rain sliding down his jaw as he shook his head slowly, as though amused by his own revelation.

"Soron…" Mauriss said softly, almost fondly, as if speaking to a ghost. "Between you and me, I truly don't know who lived the better life."

His eyes drifted toward the horizon, where storm and sea merged into an endless void.

"You," he went on, "who spent your entire existence being hunted, waiting patiently for revenge, your hatred keeping you warm through the centuries…"

His smile twisted.

"Or me?" he asked, tapping his own chest lightly. "Who has been bored for so very, very long."

Thunder rolled again.

Mauriss exhaled, slow and theatrical.

"Eternal life is long," he said, his voice dropping. "And lonely."

He lowered his arms at last, rainwater dripping from his fingertips back into the sea below.

"If I am to live forever," he continued thoughtfully, "then I must entertain myself."

His eyes gleamed.

"And to do that…" he whispered, a shiver of excitement running through him, "perhaps I should make the entire universe my enemy."

The silence that followed was brief.

Then he laughed again.

Louder this time.

"Ohhh, how interesting would that be?" Mauriss crooned, his shoulders shaking with amusement. "The looks on their faces when they finally realize that the Deceiver…"

He leaned forward slightly, rain pouring off his hair.

"…has deceived them."

His lips parted slowly as he inhaled, savoring something only he could taste.

"The shock," he murmured.

"The anger."

"The hatred…"

He closed his eyes.

"Mmmm…" Mauriss sighed, voice trembling with pleasure. "It's already delicious."

Another bolt of lightning split the sky, freezing his grin in stark white light, his expression no longer playful but utterly unhinged, as though he were standing at the edge of something vast and irreversible.

"HAHAHAHAHA—"

He laughed, the sound tearing itself from his throat with unrestrained delight as it rolled across the storm-lashed sea, unbelievably ominous as he turned his back on the endless ocean and began walking toward the lone structure carved into the rock, rain still pouring down his bare shoulders while lightning continued to dance behind him like a mockery of divinity.

"Regardless of what happens to Soron,"

Mauriss murmured, his voice light and cheerful.

"I think I'll have a lot of fun very soon."

His lips curled upward once more, not into a grin, but into something sharper, more anticipatory, as the storm swallowed his figure and the laughter lingered just a second longer than it should have, echoing unnaturally before vanishing into the thunder.

—-------------

(The Time Stilled World, Leo's POV)

*Huff…* *Huff…*

Leo stood at the center of the isolated training ground, sweat rolling down his back and soaking into the stone beneath his feet as his chest rose and fell heavily, his muscles trembling from exhaustion while his aura slowly settled back into his body like a beast finally returning to its cage.

Despite the fatigue threatening to pull him to his knees, a victorious smile was carved firmly across his face.

"I did it…" Leo muttered, his voice hoarse yet steady, as he clenched his fists and felt the residual energy still humming through his bones. "I finally completed learning all of the Cult's forbidden moves."

For two full years, every moment that he had not spent learning how to space tunnel, had been poured into this singular obsession, as whenever he found himself with even a fragment of free time, he returned to the same technique again and again, refining it, tempering it, forcing his body and soul to adapt.

It was the forbidden move he had memorized long ago from the Black Serpent Guild's vault.

The one his body had been too weak to endure back then, when even attempting it was akin to inviting death.

But now, as a Monarch, and someone who had mastered aura, he had finally managed to master the forbidden technique and also learnt how to perform it without backlash.

*Splat*

Leo straightened slowly, wiping the sweat from his brow as he gazed into the empty training ground around him, the Time Stilled World bearing silent witness to his transformation.

"With this," he said quietly, the smile on his face sharpening into something resolute and dangerous, "I feel like I am finally ready for war."

He declared as he sheathed his dagger and put on his assassin cloak.

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END OF VOLUME 8- The Last Stand.

See you all in the next volume,

'A New Era Of Chaos'

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