The flight from the Undercroft to the surface was a blur of speed and violence. Alvian, in his Avatar form, punched through the ventilation grates and burst into the night sky of the Academy.

The sun had set. The moon hung low and full, but a shadow was creeping across its face. The eclipse.

The Moon Tower stood in the center of the Admin District, a needle of white stone piercing the clouds. It pulsed with a rhythmic, sickly violet light.

Below, chaos had already erupted.

Valeria hadn't waited. The moment Alvian gave the order, the Vanguard moved.

"FOR THE ACADEMY!"

Explosions rocked the base of the tower. Vanguard knights clashed with the Royal Guard—who were wearing the tell-tale masks of the Syndicate. The corruption had reached the highest levels of security.

Spells flew like fireworks. Fireballs, lightning, and ice shards illuminated the night.

"They're fighting their own classmates," Seraphina shouted over the wind as they flew higher. "The Syndicate activated the sleeper agents!"

It was true. All across the campus, students were turning on each other. Those with the [Seed] implanted were transforming into lesser monsters, attacking anyone nearby.

It was a Civil War.

"Focus on the Tower," Alvian commanded. "If we stop the signal, the sleepers might revert. Or at least stop receiving orders."

They reached the observation deck of the Moon Tower, thousands of feet in the air.

Standing on the platform, bathed in the light of the eclipse, was the Vice-Headmaster.

But he wasn't human anymore.

He floated in the air, his body fused with a massive crystalline apparatus connected to the tower's spire. His skin was flayed, replaced by shifting text—ancient runic script. A third eye had opened in his forehead, glowing with the void light of Engels.

[Boss: The Ascended Vessel (Vice-Headmaster)]

[Level: 48]

[Status: Channeling / Divine Protection]

[Threat: World-Ending]

"You are too late, Anomaly!" The Vessel's voice boomed, echoing across the entire island. "The Signal is broadcast! The world will hear His voice!"

A beam of violet energy shot from the tip of the tower, aiming for the eclipsed moon. The moon began to crackle with purple lightning.

"Seraphina, destroy the transmitter!" Alvian shouted, dropping her on the platform.

"On it!" Seraphina sprinted toward the machinery.

Alvian charged the Vessel.

The Vessel waved a hand. "Kneel before God."

A wave of pure will slammed into Alvian.

[System Warning: Divine Authority Detected.]

[Status: Suppression.]

Alvian's flight faltered. He crashed onto the platform. His stats were halved.

"You possess a fragment of his power," the Vessel sneered. "But I possess his Mind. You are a thief. I am a Prophet."

He fired a bolt of mental energy.

Alvian rolled, the bolt vaporizing the stone where he had been.

"I can't get close!" Alvian realized. "His aura is suppressing my Avatar State."

He needed to break the concentration.

He looked down at the battle raging miles below. He saw the fires. He saw the students dying.

He felt a rage building in his chest. Not cold. Hot.

"System," Alvian whispered. "Combine [Frost Descent +2] with [Solar Cycle]."

[Warning! Conflicting Elements. Mana Matrix Instability.]

"Do it."

He channeled the infinite mana regeneration into his ice spell. But he fed it through the [Vestments of the Void Monarch], which possessed the [Molten Star] essence.

Fire and Ice. Void and Matter.

Alvian stood up, fighting the pressure. He raised both hands.

"You want a signal?" Alvian roared. "Broadcast this!"

"[Thermal Shock Cataclysm]."

He didn't cast a blizzard. He cast a storm of liquid fire and absolute zero ice simultaneously.

A vortex of red and blue energy erupted from Alvian. It spun, mixing, creating a thermal reaction that defied physics.

The resulting explosion wasn't just force. It was a tear in the sky.

"BOOM!"

The blast hit the Vessel. The Divine Protection flickered. The sheer chaos of the elemental reaction disrupted the precise frequency of the broadcast.

The beam hitting the moon wavered.

"NO!" The Vessel screamed, his concentration broken. "You dare pollute the frequency!"

The backlash hit him. The machinery fused to his body exploded.

Seraphina took the chance. She tossed a mana grenade into the exposed circuitry of the transmitter.

"Fire in the hole!"

"BANG!"

The top of the tower blew apart. The transmitter collapsed. The beam to the moon cut off.

The Vessel fell from the sky, crashing onto the lower platform. He was burned, frozen, and bleeding void ichor.

Alvian landed in front of him. The [Lance of the Void Winter] was in his hand.

"Signal lost," Alvian said.

The Vessel looked up, hate burning in his three eyes.

"You... you delayed the inevitable. But Engels is awake. He is coming."

The sky ripped open.

Not the moon. The space above the tower.

Two massive hands, the size of islands, gripped the edges of reality. A face pushed through. It wasn't the translucent Avatar from Silverwood.

It was solid. It was flesh. It was here.

[Calamity Event: The Descent of Engels]

[Status: Physical Manifestation]

The Vice-Headmaster laughed, a dying, gurgling sound.

"He doesn't need a signal," the Vessel whispered. "He heard the silence."

Alvian looked up at the Calamity God pushing through the sky.

He checked his mana. Full.

He checked his cooldowns. Ready.

He checked his friends. Alive.

Alvian smiled.

"Good," Alvian said to the dying traitor. "I was tired of fighting pawns."

He drove the lance through the Vice-Headmaster's heart, ending the boss.

[You have slain The Ascended Vessel.]

[Level Up!]

[Level 41.]

Alvian turned to the sky.

"Round Two," Alvian whispered.

He flew up to meet the God. The Civil War was over. The Apocalyptic War had begun.

----

The sky above Overlords Academy was no longer a canvas of stars; it was an open wound. The tear in reality that Alvian had created to disrupt the ritual had merged with the descending presence of the Demon God Engels, creating a jagged, bleeding rift that spanned the horizon. Violet lightning arced from the void, striking the pristine white towers of the Academy, shattering centuries-old masonry in seconds.

"WHOOSH!"

Alvian descended from the Moon Tower, his [Vestments of the Void Monarch] snapping in the gale-force winds. He didn't float gently; he fell like a judgment, his eyes scanning the chaos below with the cold, detached precision of a machine.

The "Civil War" the Golden Prince had promised was not a metaphor. It was a slaughter.

Below, on the floating islands that made up the campus, the Academy was burning. The sleeper agents...students and faculty who had been implanted with the Syndicate's [Seeds]...had awakened. But without the Moon Tower's signal to coordinate them, they had gone feral. They weren't soldiers; they were rabid animals, their bodies twisted by void corruption, attacking anything that moved.

"System. Analysis."

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