October of the Sainted Year (Third Civil Month)

The Bird scoffed, tilting his head. "I wouldn't say Seyka funded it. Her mother had been enraged and called on the powers of the Spirits to correct the terrible mistake that had been made. The Kingdoms had been wallowing in filth and Fake Saints for so long. They might as well keep sending them the latter since they already had too much of the former."

"She's this Johan's granddaughter," Kensington said quietly.

"Yes," the Bird replied. "John and Johan haven't aged much, thanks to Cesylia's Blessing. Johan's son aged even less. Still looks pretty for his darling." He gave a little smile, as though remembering some private amusement. "You see, that woman has a fondness for Nobles who farm their own lands, cook for her with ingredients pulled from their own gardens, fields, and cellars. Strange tastes, that one. She's blessed several men who sat her on their lap, fed her a proper home-cooked meal, and finished with a good dessert—not necessarily homemade, mind you, so long as the sex afterwards was good."

He spread his wings, resigned. "Don't ask me why. If I answer, my Lords might fry my wings again."

Then his tone dropped, almost conspiratorial. "I heard Diams' friend Damien did exactly that and got himself a Blessing. Diams refused, so he's still without any."

Diams made a grimace. His father was now looking at him with something close to pity.

The Bird gestured lazily toward Count Sefraz, who was still standing stiff with shock.

"Even that one over there got one from one of her Divisions, a few years back. And more since, for similar deeds. He may look impeccable in his neatly pressed suit and his perfectly styled hair, but the man's a liar. Like most of his bloodline. He's got Summons and Magic Tools built for farming. It's in his blood." The Bird leaned back. "For a shag with the right woman, that kind would do anything while the rest of them fall over themselves like bees on honey, crowding his already overloaded plate."

He chuckled, softly. "Why, I sent a few books not long ago to Cesylia and her Divisions. Manuals, really, explaining how Noble men liked to be treated. She might soon add him to the list of men who bring sacks of potatoes over their Noble shoulders to the Slums where she lives most of the time."

His gaze lingered on Sefraz. "He's done that a few times. Played the porter. But mostly to deliver things to Mathias Herves who also spends most of his time in the Slums."

The Bird gestured toward Sefraz. "You, boy. Come here."

Count Sefraz hurried forward and bowed low. "Yes, my Lord?"

"You are to take control of that stupid Over-Count's Domain," the Bird said. "And no mistakes—not even if that brother of yours interferes. You can shoot him."

The Count blinked, stunned, as the Bird continued. "I'll also allow you to use your Blessed Drake, since you've progressed enough."

Sefraz's eyes widened. He looked up and murmured, "A Drake, my Lord?"

"A little one," the Bird replied. "The one you were born with."

Kensington frowned. "Isn't he just a Count?"

The Bird scoffed. "Just like you, he's a reincarnate but from a first-generation batch. That's why so many of his bloodline Spiritus Guardians attached themselves to him, just to observe his family. I'm not sure how his brother will fare. He might get eaten by one of them, Spirit or Spiritus, if he keeps ordering the boy to do foul things. We've already gotten rid of several of their cousins for that very reason."

He tapped his fingers once, then added, "This kid here was diminished, yes—but his Soul was replenished through a Blessing. Being first-generation, and the work of a Spirit, Cesylia's powers latch onto his type best."

A flick of the hand. "That's how Damien ended up with a Soul packed with more Mana than a Duke. Man goes down on her any chance he gets. Hard little worker, that one. This one's lazier—that's how his Spirits made him. He likes being serviced more."

He shrugged with dry humor. "Can't blame him. Damien works hard. All that sucking he did on a Division of a Goddess? He was rewarded. Now, your son might try the same, but it never lands right with him. He's a licking-by-nature type."

Count Sefraz's eyes went wide. A trace of panic crossed his face. Diams turned away, avoiding his gaze entirely.

The Bird folded his arms. "Now, if he did that while feeding her something good, something home-cooked, he might earn some cookie points."

Kensington almost laughed. His son looked like he might fling himself out the window at any moment.

"There's no shame in that," the Bird continued breezily. "I know a few embodied Gods who did just that and got themselves blessed by her family's High Spirits. Some were even upgraded."

He tilted his head with a wry smirk. "Maybe I would've considered it myself if we weren't so closely related. Now, if they made one unrelated to me, tucked away in some new World where I could spend holidays after slogging through all this… I wouldn't mind."

He looked up, his tone shifting suddenly toward the heavens. "What, Boss? I should lick my wings instead, since I'll be stuck here working for once?"

Then back down, muttering, "Fine. But can I at least get some decent meals from back home?"

A pause. He nodded. "Yes, not too many. I can still taste them in these bodies, and I want the kids to try some."

Another small nod followed, almost tender.

"Thank you, Boss."

The Bird turned his eyes back to Sefraz.

"Boy, you'll start separating from that Doll you call Lyane—just like we'll do with Diams here. Tell your Marquess brother he can take his children back. We're not a refuge for filth."

He paused, then added dryly, "Well, maybe you can keep that boy who calls you 'dad.' If he survives the next year, that is. He's been tethered to that Spiritus too long. He's likely a goner. Even reincarnations have their limits."

Teryon Sefraz stared in horror. Diams swallowed hard and murmured, "What will happen to Lyane?"

"You'll divorce her," the Bird said flatly, "or I'll burn you."

His voice darkened as he looked at Diams next. "And I've got a few things to say to your adoptive father as well—pulling those dirty Spells to save his son and toss you to that thing instead. But I'll keep it for later, once the Saint is finished with him."

Diams looked panicked. Kensington looked worse. "My Lord," he asked carefully, "may I inquire about those Spells?"

The Bird gave a slow nod. "Your son may not be as brainless as you and Sefraz think. He's been bound with some very strong enchantments, from multiple sources, all tailored to make him obsess over that whoring Doll. Sefraz has always loved playing with dolls. Ask his Makers."

He smirked. "I remember he used to peek under their skirts during practice. Had a naughty little Wolf Spiritus as his mentor—one whose head got bashed along his own more than a few times when the instructor was around. It was truly something to watch."

He laughed once under his breath.

"No wonder some Spirits sent him here. Pure entertainment while they're stuck on this plane. Teryon Sefraz is such a silly creature. Never learns. His family must've panicked when he started growing up."

The Bird's tone took on an almost gleeful derision.

"The only way he learns anything new is when one of his 'Spiritual Daddies' smashes his head against that special table, so he can admire his bleeding face while bent over, held down by some Magical presence. That one got a few laughs from the Spirits. Their way of saying: the boy must learn to bend when told. At least for certain things."

He waved a hand lazily. "Don't even ask me why those crazy Spirits were allowed to design people like him. Probably just to mess with the other lads who get less pussy and look only half as good."

He tilted his head with exaggerated thoughtfulness. "Sefraz might just be the most hated man in town. I'm almost surprised no one's shot him yet. His own family couldn't stand him. They sent him here."

Around the chamber, Diams and several other Nobles suddenly found the tips of their shoes terribly fascinating.

The Bird scoffed and stretched his wings with theatrical disdain.

"Well, now that I've said my piece, let's get out of here. I can feel the filth in this room clinging to my feathers." He gave a final glance toward Kareena. "I'll be sending her cousin—Countess Gladyris, as she calls herself—to burn at the stake in her homeland. Coming here to stir trouble and challenge the Saints? We know who sent her. Even her so-called Protection Goddess might pay with a few of her Subordinates. They've meddled far too much."

Kensington bowed slightly. "Understood, Sir. We'll proceed as ordered. But… may I still inquire about those Spells you mentioned earlier?"

The Bird gave a shrug. "They're being removed. At least the most obsessive ones. Those were woven by your brother's half-sister, who's now… gone. We stuffed the Goddess and a few of her meddling Subordinates, who had encouraged and blessed that nonsense, into her body. The woman's Soul was destroyed that way. As for those Gods, they were digested somewhere, last I heard."

He smirked, eyes glinting with dark amusement. "Don't ask me where. They didn't want me to know. Probably thought I'd go snack on their dainty little Divinities like I've done before."

His wings flicked.

"This world's a harsh one. We barely get anything decent to eat. There was a time, not too long ago, when the Lords turned the best parts of fallen Gods into jelly and served it with ice cream. Ah, those were the days…"

He sighed with fond nostalgia.

"Happened just a few weeks back, but it feels like a lifetime. That ice cream was divine. They changed suppliers recently to suit this part of the world, but I don't mind. I love variety."

Kensington nodded, his expression settling into quiet resignation. He clearly thought it wiser not to comment on what the Bird had just revealed. Best not to think too hard on it. For if he did, if he let the implications sink in, he'd be forced to admit the truth.

The Bird was far more than he had ever admitted. He was a Higher Spirit—one who punished Gods and Spirits alike.

And that placed him far higher in the hierarchy than Kensington had ever imagined.

***

Long hours later, Diams Dersacci looked absentmindedly through the window.

His wife Kareena was not back yet. He wondered if she would be the same when she returned. Probably not. He had been careless. What he had thought to be a sudden surge of jealousy because of Teryon Sefraz turned out to be something deeper and far more dangerous. Divine powers had helped it along. Gods who simply wanted to tarnish the True Saints' reputation, desperate to reinstate their waning influence over the Kingdom.

The Supreme God Bird had told them much.

Too much, maybe. Diams still wasn't sure whether it was because the situation was dire… or because the Bird had simply stopped caring.

Not far from him, his natural father was reviewing contracts with a lawyer he'd hired, along with Diams' own attorney and an uncle who had stepped forward to help.

He glanced at his aunt who was standing stiffly in a corner of the room. She hadn't recovered from the shock of discovering his origins. Not fully. Not since learning of his birthright. She'd been lied to or made to forget like many others on her side of the family. And now, he could see it clearly: they had been his true family all along.

The man who fathered his mother had sold him off to his adoptive Marquess father. And from what he had just heard, his mother might not have died naturally. Someone or several someones had helped her.

He turned to Kensington, the man he'd been ordered to call "father."

"Will you be seeing John Dwarions, as you mentioned earlier?" he asked quietly.

Kensington shook his head. "We probably won't be able to. Maybe another day. He's apparently seeing one of the sons he had with Cesylia, today."

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Then his attention drifted toward the Bird who, unsurprisingly, looked far too cheerful for the moment. The Supreme God was being fed by spoon, courtesy of his granddaughter Sukuna: one of the Saintesses Diams had sired.

(Sukuna)

Kensington watched in silence. His son had seemed strangely detached from the girl. Detached, yet distant in a way he understood all too well. The lies had spread in all directions. They had all been used.

The Bird opened his beak and accepted another spoonful of dessert, chirping with glee.

"I'm so glad your mother went to pray for some of this ice cream," he said brightly. "I swear this is delicious. Tastes even better when it's fed to me by one of her kids. I'm feeling like I've returned to the Heavenly Heavens again!"

He blinked at the girl with comical affection. "You can call me uncle, darling. And who knows? If you do well, we might upgrade you to a Goddess one day. We've upgraded worse—believe me."

Diams nearly choked. Kensington shot him a weary glance.

The Saintess just laughed. "Oh no, sir. I like being Mortal too much. I'm fine just staying a Goddess' Avatar."

The Bird gave a dramatic sniff and tucked his beak beneath one wing. "I see. You want the best of both worlds and have no desire to do more work. So very much like your parent."

Kensington stiffened. He turned, slowly, eyes narrowing at the Bird's folded form. The Saintess only giggled and nodded, like they were sharing a private joke.

Kensington's voice dropped. "Sir… what does that mean?"

Diams said nothing but nodded.

The Bird fluffed his feathers and gave a lazy scoff. "You'll figure it out eventually. When children are born of main Divisions—not the watered-down kind we can barely call Divisions, and who are more like Servants—a God or a Spirit is born. Sometimes, something lesser. Some are just Spiritus. Or Celestials."

He turned his head and tilted it slightly. "Do you really think the Kingdoms would've been punished so severely for insulting just a Saintess and Avatar? There's no such thing by the way. You're either an Avatar, or a Saint. Unless… you're the Mortal Division of a God or Spirit."

He clicked his beak softly. "Always remember this. When most of her True Saints pray to their Gods, they're praying to themselves. Or to one of their underlings. I was almost brought to tears when I saw Mathias and Cesylia pray. It was beautiful. Really moving. Like watching someone tell the Gods, 'Hurry up, buddy, do your work or I'll send my other self to spank you.'"

Diams looked at his daughter, stunned. His aunt fainted, again, eyes rolling backward. It wasn't the first time today.

Kensington, now silent, simply stared at his granddaughter.

Then finally, he asked the question. "My Lord… Seyka is one of those True Saints you just mentioned?"

The Bird nodded. "Yes. Maybe even one that's overly powerful. She had both the Light and Blooded Darkling elements. Perhaps someone else was involved in her birth. The Master of Blood Lords has been known to interfere. Or maybe it's just the will of Lord Schester. He's trying to bring more of his Flock here."

He waved a wing. "She looks like one of his. Who knows? His Maker might've helped. Or the Blood Lords he's attached to."

Kensington frowned. "And what makes you believe she's one of the new Lords'?"

The Bird's tone stayed light. "Like I said—her elements. They're his. She commands too many others as well. Her Divine Magic is Gold. Her appearance suggests she was born through one of his Blessings. Brown hair, brown eyes, and a plainness that one could easily forget or look down on. Even her character is evidence that Lord Schester might be behind her design. She is, quite obviously, a Chipmuck's Mascot Saint. And her father, just as obviously, a Special Soul in his own right."

Diams' eyes widened. His hands shook. Still, he went to help his aunt, following his cousin who had already rushed to her side, though the boy was struggling. His Magic was too low to do much.

Kensington pressed his palm to his forehead. "I should probably inform my cousin about Lady Seyka. He's been getting gray hair over that whole thing. It was brutal. The things they did to that Royal family… the torture."

Diams gasped. "What? What is that supposed to mean?"

The Bird didn't even blink. "Oh, it's true. The King was divided into several pieces. One for each of his sins. His son was revived, and they cut him the same way. The fake Saintess was getting something just as bad. When you show up apologizing for your son trying to murder a Goddess and you don't punish or correct the boy—what did you expect?"

He sounded genuinely curious. "You play at false modesty. You mock a new member of Lord Schester's Flock. You don't mess around with the Bloodchester and Lordchester Churches. Why in the world would you think you can mess with the Lordschester Church? The youngest among them are the least indulgent."

His voice dropped lower. "Two of the Gods who once protected that bloodline have been taken in for questioning and are now being sent to a very nasty plane. Did you truly believe the stories were complete? That the Gods simply tossed the aides into that place and walked away? Do you think they're so merciful? No. They made new people from a blister torn out of those aides' Souls and sent them to those lands instead. As for the actual aides, the ones who dared insult the Saint, they were cursed into a phantom state and nailed to a wall, right alongside several of their own family members."

He blinked. "This is Lord Schester's way. He learned from the best. You might expect Master Mathias Herves to do much worse."

Diams swallowed. His mind reeled. No way. And yet, Kareena had said something once. Something about Mathias.

The Bird smiled.

"You get it now? How they got to her so easily?"

Diams shook his head. "No…"

"All that was left was a blister. The rest had already been consumed or stuck to one of his walls. A piece might even be sealed inside the Lair of one of Cesylia's Spirit Sister Divisions. The one tied to the Blood Lord's Lore. In other words, part of the Dark Lord's Blood Lord Persona."

He lowered his voice.

"Someone so frightening they barely let him roam. He scares people too much. They can't even enjoy a slow torture. It ruins the pacing."

The Bird chuckled to himself.

"The Master of Blood Lords is called 'extremely generous' and not just 'immensely generous' because that one exists. Even his own self calls him petty. They've fought over it. One said the other was petty. Then the other said he was petty. It was a whole thing."

He shook his head with fond disdain. "My Lord scoffed at the both of them. Told them they were doubly petty. That they should move on. It's not like everyone didn't already know. There were likely trillions of pettiness in those embodiments. Meanwhile, he only had a hundred. So yes, he's immensely generous. When they were just plain petty."

***

It wasn't until much later in the day that Diams received any news of Kareena. His wife was dropped off by a woman who struck him as oddly familiar. Of course she did. This was Saint Sylia, the Source of Cesylia, as both his daughter Sukuna and that overly chatty Supreme God Bird had already reminded him.

(Saint Sylia)

Saint Sylia had taken on her adult form for once and carried a short sword in her right hand. She wasn't alone. Kareena had appeared beside her, dropped unceremoniously onto the floor through a Magic Portal conjured by two winged Celestials bearing the emblem of Supreme God Izranaga. Kneeling near them was another breathtaking and most likely Divine woman, who had been shoved forward harshly by Sylia herself upon their arrival.

The Bird immediately darted toward the Saint with a shrill cry of excitement. Sylia ignored him and kicked the brown-haired, Goddess-like woman forward, sending her sprawling to the floor. The beauty landed face-first with a muffled cry of pain, which only made Sylia smile. Beside her, Kareena was trembling, painful tears streaming down her face.

Diams watched her carefully, his unease deepening. Something was terribly wrong. Even his biological father, standing beside him in the main hall's doorway, looked visibly disturbed as he took in the strange, tense scene.

The Supreme God Bird chirped brightly as he looked down at the woman crumpled on the floor. "Oh, my Lady, you've returned at last! I didn't expect you back so soon, given where you had to go."

Diams and Lord Kensington froze in shock. Had they heard correctly? They exchanged a glance. There was no doubt. The Supreme God had just called Saint Sylia "my Lady."

And there was no mistaking her identity. Sukuna had greeted her immediately after the Bird, calling her "Mother" without hesitation.

Sylia returned her daughter's greeting with a brief nod, then began to smooth her hair. She responded to the Bird as she did so, "I had help from Izranaga and his Flock. You did well. They were so focused on you, they didn't see me coming."

The Bird bowed low, wings folded neatly. "I'm glad to have pleased you, my Lady. I assume you mean Mazeros?"

Sylia glanced away, her gaze settling on a magical landscape painting now hanging on a wall that hadn't existed earlier. Diams blinked. He hadn't noticed it before. In fact, the entire wall was new. He turned sharply toward the Bird, suspicion rising. His father mirrored the gesture. He must have come to the same conclusion.

Still studying the strange Magical painting, Sylia answered absentmindedly, "I encountered not only Mazeros, but also Mazahyl. They were quite surprised. They didn't realize I could reach the Overworld and Outer World with my Source's help. Most likely, they mistook me for one of my lesser Divisions. It wasn't a pleasant moment. I had to beat them up then froze them for a time. They'll recover in about a week without much memories of our last encounter."

Her tone shifted, just slightly. "Unfortunately, I also crossed paths with Mirahyn and Kilengy...I had expected the first, since he's kin to Mazeros. But Kilengy was a surprise as he's from the Half-Fallen Dark Lady's Flock. I brought him back, in case we need fuel or food to help absorb his mother fully."

She paused, then added with unsettling calm, "As for Mirahyn, I vanquished him on the spot, with help from my Source. I am, after all, much more powerful in the Outer World, where the largest part of me still remains."

The woman beneath Sylia's boot whimpered and looked up at her with wide, terrified eyes. Sylia's smile turned meaner. She leaned down, grabbed the woman by the hair, and murmured, "Oh? You didn't know?"

Straightening again, she looked toward the Bird. "Kalahyr, you two can separate now. I imagine it hasn't been very comfortable for Leharyel having you around."

Diams stood stunned watching as another figure began to emerge from the body of the Godly Bird. A wave of Dark energy pulsed through the room.

At last, a Dark Bird split from the cheerful, golden-feathered Supreme God. Dark shadows surged through the city house's hall, heavy and suffocating, only to be swept away in an instant with a lazy wave of Sylia's hand.

The Supreme God Bird staggered slightly as the separation completed, his expression now one of clear annoyance and fatigue.

The newly freed Dark Bird fluttered his wings in delight and said cheerfully, "Ah, that feels so much better, my Lady. Leharyel was such an unpleasant body-mate."

Sylia pursed her lips, glancing first at the Supreme God Bird, then at the grinning Dark Bird.

"I'll bet it was. I heard some of what you did. The Great Father enjoyed your little performance—perhaps a bit too much, if you ask me. But then again, it was to be expected."

The Dark Bird looked sheepish, which brought a flicker of amusement to Sylia's face.

The Supreme God Bird gave a tired shrug and began preening his wings before muttering, his irritation barely concealed, "My Lady, I understand time was of the essence, but please refrain from placing that individual and me in the same body again."

Sylia laughed. She knew he wasn't really addressing her. He was speaking to her Source, who was presently shadowing her. If it had just been Sylia alone, he wouldn't have been nearly so polite. They had been through too much together for such formality.

The Supreme God Bird continued with a dramatic sigh, "That damn Bird forced me to say all sorts of ridiculous things. He made me act like some lazy creature who lounges on Dragons and Drakes, sipping rice wine and tea."

Sylia lifted her shoulders in an elegant shrug. "You don't like overexerting yourself, and you always leave me to clean up after you. How many of your creations have I had to dismantle, once their time came, simply because you didn't want to get your hands dirty? And let's not pretend you don't enjoy perching on my Dragons and demanding rice wine."

The Supreme God Bird flushed in embarrassment. Both Lord Kensington and his son stared in open-mouthed shock upon hearing Sylia's unapologetically damning words.

He mumbled, "It's only with you, Syld. I presume Izranaga and his siblings were up to the task?"

Sylia nodded. "They did well, but I might still need you to create new ones for this place—unless you've kept any under ice or stored as seeds you can remake quickly. Izranaga is useful, but this world doesn't suit him. I'll need more like him. I know the Great Father requested certain preparations."

In response, the Supreme God Bird shifted, his form elongating and shimmering until he took the form of a tall, radiant humanoid with long, bleached-blond hair.

He stood with magnificent dignity and smoothed the sleeve of his robe before he turned to Sylia and he said with a grave expression, "The Great Master did make such a request. But those are not meant for you, my dear Lady. He asked for them specifically. Still, I did take the liberty of crafting a few for you, during my off-hours, once I heard you were coming here."

Sylia tilted her head and smiled sweetly. "Oh, how utterly predictable—and how very sweet of you."

The Deity blushed again, which made Sylia's smile widen even more. She glanced around the hall and added, "I see you've done some redecorating."

The Divine figure nodded proudly. "I certainly have with your Dark Bird's help, no less. This place was steeped in corruption. I even used Luvrezio's assistance, just as you taught me. I also took the liberty of adding a few castles to this new Dimension. I couldn't bear to let you and your children live in such filth, surrounded by trash. I'll be admonishing Izranaga later. The nerve—to let you reside in these conditions. That peasant! I'll speak to Luvrezio about it as well, since he holds the most influence over him. This is intolerable. How could he think your pretense as a 'normal Saint' somehow excuses him from offering you his full support? You deserve better comfort in this forsaken Sub-World. That child needs a serious scolding."

Lord Kensington gasped audibly. His son nearly lost his balance in sheer disbelief.

Sylia simply smiled. "Excellent. Let's go speak elsewhere. Please, do create an intermediary space. I wish to discuss a few matters privately with Kensington and Diams later on. You are indeed as sweet as ever. I'll enjoy your company here for a while. I was terribly bored. Mathias has become quite insufferable lately. I wish his Source had sent more of his adorable Bunny or Chipmuck Divisions instead. Watching him play macho warrior is dreadful. Though, I'll admit it has some benefits."

She waved a hand lightly. "Don't scold Izranaga too harshly. The child has done well. He's overwhelmed. Mathias has been harassing him about all sorts of things. And I recently learned he's been working secretly for the Great Father. My Source confirmed as much. Surely you already knew, since you helped make him. I imagine you were sent a request to use his services?"

The one now revealed as a Supreme God Maker inclined his head. "Indeed, my dearest Lady. I believe the Great Father has further plans for him. He may reconstruct him entirely to function better in this world then upgrade him to make him fit for the Outer World. It wouldn't be the first time. I also heard that he's preparing a new World alongside the other Great Master. Apparently, he wishes to create another Being like Izranaga there, given how well my child has performed here."

Sylia's eyes gleamed. "Is that so? I suspected as much. He'll need new Worlds to replace the ones he's currently destroying. Some of our assets are already being relocated. Even a few of my children from this World will be transferred into a new one."

Leharyel, still in his Divine humanoid form, nodded. "Indeed. I suppose I've done all I needed to here. You may leave the rest to your Dark Bird, I believe. Then shall we go? I'll have the Nymphs and Minor Gods from the new Dimension prepare a proper meal for you. You must be starving after staying in this wretched place."

Sylia nodded in thanks and then turned to her daughter. "Sukuna, stay with your father for now. We'll speak later. Rahana is on her way. We'll include her in our meeting this evening. She knows this place far better than you do and will be able to assist us efficiently. I'll send for refreshments from one of our Enclaves. Take this time to get to know your grandfather."

Sukuna curtsied. "Yes, Mother."

Diams bit his lip. Something felt deeply, catastrophically wrong. His father clearly sensed it too. The very Maker of Supreme God Izranaga was here in person and had just referred to Sylia, with unmistakable reverence, as "my dearest Lady."

This was bad. Extremely bad.

He wanted to ask something, anything, but the words wouldn't come. All he could do was watch helplessly as his tearful wife was dragged away by two merciless Dark Bunnies toward the glowing Magic Portal, now open in front of the strange magical painting that he finally understood was a Gate to an entirely new Dimension.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.