'I watched him be worshiped throughout my empire. Out in the open, but indirectly.

They worshiped him through meals taken outside in the dead of night, wherein they'd scan the sky for no particular reason, see the distant rock floating high above, and lose themselves in wonder while their food grew cold.

It was seen in the young couples taking evening strolls to confess their love under the soft light.

It was in the travelers who felt safe venturing through the dark.

Through that, ironically, I could see.

They worshiped it; they revered it because they could stare at it. It was gentle, and so they were not blinded by that light. They were enriched by it.

Perhaps that was the reason for my family's rage.

Munlight was not life-giving. But life was enamored with it all the same. The wolves in the tundra called out to it. Wild orcs in the mountains performed rituals when it went into hiding. The oceans and seas swayed in response to its dance.

That was the reason for my family's rage.

Amun's light was not life-giving, but Twilight was.'

Scripts of the Stellar Lance. Ch 7.

***

Amun Za'Darmondiel-Nox.

1 Septara, 1492.

4:13 PM.

[Prestige Cleric: The Eternal Path, Step 3: Mission.]

[With the ranks of your twin clergies filled, you must continue your path towards perpetuity by putting your clergy on a path to test the teachings of your faith by spreading your glory. The Order of Worlds, your religion most aligned with chaotic goodness, must mimic your actions of liberating and uplifting the oppressed of the surface worlds. Meanwhile, The Black Plume, your cult most aligned with lawful evil, must recreate your tyranny and appease the dark one aligned to you by spreading Gloom throughout the Darkworld. Both must build new temples and sanctuaries in the wakes of their travels. Thus, they must be graced with sacred relics as a reward for their trials. (1/2)]

[Grandmaster Artificer, Step 15: Grandmaster Armorer.]

[To continue down the path to becoming a Grandmaster Artificer, you must become familiar with the most powerful- and dangerous- craft known across all the realms. Runes. The Language of Power itself. To become a Runic Decipherer, you must copy five runes and decipher their meaning.]

[The Path of Zefroth, Step 4: The Horsemen.]

[To be accepted in the Underworld's training halls, a devil must possess no-less than 10,000 souls. Only then can they learn the art of Devil Kenpo.]

[The Way of Death's Door, Step 19: Death's Throne.]

[Though you have stepped through Death's Door and have seated yourself in the Throne Room, your path is yet incomplete, for your throne remains in the Under. To truly become the Undying Judge, you must construct a Monastery on the Mortal Plane and complete the circuit between all Ki Ponds, thus bringing Death's Temple to the lands of the living.]

[Devil Mastermind, Step 5: The Network.]

[To be unbranded as a Rogue requires you to corrupt good-aligned warriors into committing wicked acts as you guide them to their deaths, and once reborn as devils, have them serve as an elite task force in your fiendish endeavors.]

***

"For death will be your only release."

I detached from my divine energies and technology spread across Maru and turned back to the Imperators, feeling a little embarrassed. I wanted nothing more than to shoo them all away on the spot. Yet their impressions were on full display.

"So... that's Maru?" Scarlett awkwardly wowed.

"It looks… quaint." Zarzok offered.

"Oh, don't hide your words. It's bloody tiny!" Bazzric howled.

"Don't worry. It'll grow." I said, then used the Credence Cerebellum to show my visage and voice to Winston and Winston alone. "Are you alright?"

I waited a moment. Not for him to answer, but to conjure an image of his mother, riding a raft made of aggregated sand next to a cat of the same nature, busy grooming itself. "The burst of arcana broke the housings for the barriers in Epethia, but not Ulai." I told him. "The cat, feeling it's been mistreated, destroyed the room they were in. Thus, I passed along that spell of yours."

"As long as my mother is safe, that is fine." He said. Then continued after a few long moments of contemplation. "I… I assumed the worst when I saw the barriers fall. I knew she would survive the castle's collapse. But the looters and rioters are another story. Thank you, Amun."

"I know not where to put her, besides with Silas, though. Except for one place."

"That may not go well for the citizens." He said. Then, with a heavy sigh, admitted. "I do not wish to bring her here either. Though it pains me to say, perhaps this hardship is what she needs to become better. As I did."

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"So it shall be." I nodded. Then disconnected the divine spiritual organ from his mind before I dispersed the now docile crowd around me. Not by sending them on their way, but by opening a portal near the vicinity of Doyle, Olga, and Abbot- Granny Abbot, standing near the Bodhi Tree's base.

Within moments, Corym and Indra were staring at the Bodhi Tree's 2nd year students and their immediate subordinates, including my Troupe. Without delay, Granny Abbot led us into the main grounds, through a wall of foliage and onto a wide stone dais that shrouded us in a web of green-glowing vines and vibrant flowers.

The crisp freshness of high-altitude air assaulted my senses as the flora unfurled, revealing the picturesque views of the Bodhi Tree's canopy sprawled above the clouds like an inverted forest. Twigs were like districts, holding lattices of building-sized leaves that swayed gently in the breeze, each connected to streets and highways for branches, leading back to the colossal vines encircling the trunk, acting as terraces, bridges, stairs, and walkways for those like the one waiting before our dais - the assistant headmaster, Mallory Monet.

Unlike me, she looked the same as she did several months ago. And yet, she didn't. She was still charmingly professional, with caramel skin paired with silver hair kept in a professional bun and eyes of the same color, enhanced by finely crafted glasses. Now, however, I could see deeper inside her spirit than ever before. I could see she was a Sorceress of the Sky, on top of being a Bard of Diplomacy. More so, I could see a peculiar desire in her eyes that made me question the near future.

Professional as always, she stood before me with a stoic but welcoming expression and lowered her head in greeting. Despite knowing my face, she confirmed it was Amun and the Legio Noctis standing before her, then showed us across the many vine-bridges suspended between Bodhi Tree's branches without another word.

"Care to tell me if we'll be in the same place as last year?" Doyle asked her moments later.

"No." came the immediate answer, nearly making me snicker at Doyle's expense before she pressed on. "The Millennials are a special class. More special than the last, even." She flicked her eyes at me. "We are in the Tri-Hollows this year."

"It seems the Headmaster is under the impression that the Regni won't get along." Granny Abbot snickered.

"After last year, who can blame him?" Doyle sighed under his breath.

As we continued, vine-stairways and leaf-lifts branched off to ascend or descend toward the many colossal branches disappearing into the surrounding clouds. She brought us down a seemingly random one on the southeastern face, skipping us rapidly around the trunk toward the lower-most branches, stopping at a voluminous tree hollow with three ostentatious doors placed within.

"Those from Polaris have already arrived, and the rest of the general purpose guilds are due to arrive within the hour. You can expect your summons by tonight."

"Any idea who we'll be lodging with?" Doyle asked.

She waited until she was just before the hollow exit before stopping to face me, rather than Doyle. "Two organizations have repeatedly requested to be lodged with the Legio Noctis since they first heard of its Guild-master's attendance," she said, scrutiny hidden beneath her stoic veil. "The Bombyx Grove, ranked fifteenth among the Regni; and Betelle Mercantile, ranked thirty-ninth."

"Thanks, Mal."

"Do not call me that, Sir Wolfgang."

I laughed as she walked off, then turned to look inside the spherical space, filled with many seats and tables with the Bodhi Tree's screen-like scrying windows, and little else. As the name suggested, three alcoves sat dominated the far half of the space, each having a grandiose door surrounded by seating arrangements. Unlike the other alcoves, ours, at the center, was open. Within was your typical grand hall, furnished but undecorated, with smaller but no less grandiose doors interspaced on the surrounding walls; all plastered with the insignia of the Legions atop it. My mark.

I did not yet enter, however, as some sort of bell-shaped flower poised over the threshold deposited a cluster of spores over my frame. Then the door sealed shut, opening a moment later to reveal a much more voluminous communal space with gently curved corners. The alcoves had multiplied, discarded their doors, and changed their interiors into environments appropriate for each legion, with their insignia etched into the stone-like wood arches making each entrance, just like Zed Legion's at the far rear.

My oldest companions gathered in that communal space almost subconsciously, leaving our subordinates to make their claims in the spaces beyond while we caught up on spent time and recent changes. And with my Divine Sight, there were many. Toril more or less looked the same. Though he was close to two meters tall now and his hair had nearly grown to his lower back, yet the sides were still shaved. Jaimess's eyes had changed, adopting a kaleidoscopic mix of beige, red, blue, and green. Not to mention the spiritual feathers pluming on his neck and down his arms. Roheisa had burnt-orange bull horns growing out of her head, paired with a septum piercing that glowed like hot steel. Lucia had feathers like Jaimess, but metallic and sharpened like blades, appearing like gleaming armor. Ed had the glowing red eyes of his Grim Gear superimposed atop his smoky irises, and the arcane circuitry of my engineering blessing around his wrists and temples. But those were the changes I alone could see.

Everyone could see Zakira's skin was now paler, and her hair was silver like mine but with highlights that shifted from black to blue to violet to crimson depending on Mani's phase, and thus my radiance. My mental state. My mood. Opal's hair was still black, yet held permanent golden highlights. Duke's feathers now held as much lightning as Toril's Legion. As did Hogaz's fleets when compared to the 7th Legion. And then there was Peter. Being the most ascetic of us monks, he wore a fine but simple robe, along with his monastic vestiges. That was it. His shoulder-length hair was styled roughly to sway over the visible scars on his neck, worn proudly just like the amiable smile on his face.

Once we all got settled and greeted, Toril broke the air with business. "Should we drop out after this year?"

"I would advise against it." I answered. "The divine tree seeds the top ten will be given are invaluable, and more wise rock pebbles are always welcome. That, and the opportunity to venture deeper into Nonus, will be a great opportunity to gather more information about the realm. Not to mention, more recruits."

"I may go for a guild that does a lot of fighting." Ed mentioned. "In light of recent events, we'll be needing the experience."

"Just train more." Toril off-handedly said.

Ed squinted in bemusement, tilting his head. "A- aren't you doing the same thing?"

"Of course! But for fun!"

"Haha! You should go for it." I encouraged him, despite laughing at his exasperated face palm. "I'm sure you can put a few along the March of Progress while you're at it. "As for me." I paused, looking at the others. "I think I'll have had my fill of fighting after this year, at least until we return to Maru. I've made it to the nineteenth step of my monastic class. And I've reached superpowered levels of dexterity and agility as well. Every time I bolster, my perception of time grinds down, yet I can move freely.

"Yeah, well, you're you." Ed playfully scoffed.

"Oh, no." I shook my head. "Peter, Rua, and Veil of Shadows are equals in those regards. As is the troupe and the many drow monks who trained us. That's why I offered them positions in the Darkroom."

"I bet you're probably stronger than Toril now." Doyle teased. Only to be cut off by Roheisa's mocking laugh.

"Hah! If that's the case, I need to work on my speed and agility to keep up with you two without electricity."

"Should we have a round of play after the matches?" Jaimess suggested, much to my surprise and several others' bemusement. They eyed him strangely while I agreed with some reluctance.

"Sure, we can spar. But, I have to warn you, my ki gets… deadly, as I approach death's door."

"Yeah, well, stepping towards death's door is precisely how to up my constitution." Ed snickered.

"And none of us are to die without your permission." Toril added.

"Fair enough." I conceded, grinning widely. "Just don't complain when you lose."

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