The black crystal field shattered like a drowned shore collapsing inward. Fragments scattered across the tunnels, grinding against stone like obsidian sand, while the living pulse of the anthill died in a single, irreversible moment. What had once been a breathing nest was reduced to silence under Kiaria's deliberate extermination.

The tunnels beyond were not empty. Other treasure hunters still existed–scattered across distant veins of the anthill–but the sudden void left by Kiaria's act crippled their paths. Most would struggle to kill even ten beasts before the hunt unraveled completely.

But the annihilation did not end with silence.

It awakened judgment.

The Association's grand formation stirred first, its consciousness forced awake by an anomaly far beyond predicted thresholds. Emergency sub-formations activated instantly, ripping candidates out of combat zones, flinging them into sealed regions to preserve the integrity of the assessment.

Then–

Something older stirred.

Something enraged.

At the deepest core of the anthill, where no ordinary will could reach, a presence unfolded from slumber. Every egg within the nest was hers. Every heartbeat extinguished had belonged to her bloodline.

The Yaksha Ant Queen awoke.

She did not travel.

She vanished.

And appeared above the shattered egg field.

"My children…"

Her voice did not echo through air. It pressed directly into existence, bending stone, crystal, and will alike.

"My eggs."

The tunnel convulsed as her roar followed, the sound carrying grief sharpened into fury. She chose her human form–not weakness, but contempt. Six-armed, regal, suffocating, she levitated high within the tunnel, her gaze alone crushing resistance.

The observation chamber ruptured.

The gap through which Hylisi watched tore violently, mirror-space shattering under the pressure of a Beast God's wrath. The backlash slammed into her consciousness, and she collapsed without even the chance to scream.

The assessment stopped.

Emergency formations activated too late. Hylisi was forcibly teleported into the Association's deepest sanctuary, unconscious but alive, while the remaining candidates were scattered across sealed regions–trapped, isolated, and abandoned by guidance.

Within the anthill, gravity thickened.

Kiaria staggered.

The suppression pierced straight into his sea of consciousness, collapsing spiritual currents as two ancient presences were torn free. The Dragon Emperors emerged unwillingly, their projections trembling under the pressure.

The Yaksha Queen's eyes snapped to them.

"…So it is you two."

Her voice was cold enough to peel intent from flesh.

"The so-called Great Emperors of Beast and Human."

She laughed softly, and the air cracked.

"Serving a human."

Disgust rippled outward.

"What a humiliation."

She took one step forward.

The white crystals imprisoning the half-blood Yakshas shattered instantly, their remnants erased from even the memory of form. Another step, and shattered black crystals lifted into the air, orbiting her like a collapsing constellation.

Another.

The crystals beneath her feet reshaped into steps, while the rest spiraled around her like a dark galaxy responding to a single will.

She advanced.

Dead Yaksha Ants rose from the ground, bodies limp, limbs twisted unnaturally as if puppets awaiting command.

"Rise," she murmured.

The dead obeyed.

Black crystal flowed into their corpses, melting into armor, into flesh, into living form. The army returned–silent, obedient, reborn through rage alone.

Kiaria could not lift his head.

She vanished.

And appeared before him.

So close that she cast no shadow–because she was his shadow.

She did not touch him.

And yet–

Air refused to enter his lungs.

In Kiaria's monochrome gaze, he saw it clearly: a will that stood apart from the unity of life, sovereign and malignant, refusing harmony by choice. Her dominance seized his body, and his left hand rose against his will, clamping around his own throat.

She lifted him into the air like discarded prey.

His vision dimmed.

His beast companion–the Two-Headed Wolf-Deer Saint–was forcibly torn into existence before her gaze. She studied it briefly, then smiled.

"So this one carries your submission."

Her voice softened.

"Then you will feel what I felt."

She raised a finger.

Black crystal shards screamed through the air, piercing both of the beast's eyes simultaneously. The twin heads howled, their pain tearing through Kiaria's consciousness.

Another gesture.

Shards impaled its limbs–four palms pierced, pinned, and shattered before his eyes.

Another.

A massive shard drove through its abdomen, ripped free violently, snapping its spine mid-withdrawal. The beast convulsed, blood and agony staining the crystal floor.

Kiaria's heart thundered.

Then–

She seized his Patron Crown.

Though it levitated, it was still part of him.

She tore it free.

Blood spilled in a perfect circle from Kiaria's scalp as he screamed silently. Monochrome mist surged instantly, sealing flesh, restoring bone, knitting existence back together. The beast healed as well.

The Queen watched.

"You heal."

Amusement flickered across her face.

Her hand speared toward his chest, nails piercing skin, divine robe, and dragon scales. Bones cracked under her grip–

Then stopped.

She froze.

"…Heart sharing."

Surprise flickered.

Then delight.

Diala's presence erupted within the anthill.

She teleported in.

Kiaria's heartbeat spiked violently.

Panic surged.

He could not speak.

And the Yaksha Queen smiled wider.

Diala did not fall.

The moment she appeared, the suffocating suppression that crushed Kiaria fractured violently–as if it had struck something it was never meant to touch. The inherited treasure box left behind by Goddess Leyna flared to life, its authority rebounding outward like a divine verdict.

The pressure shattered.

Kiaria gasped as air rushed back into his lungs. The Dragon Emperors regained form instantly, forced into temporary human bodies as the backlash tore them free of suppression. Even the Wolf-Deer Saint staggered upright, shaking off dominance that should have been inescapable.

The Yaksha Queen's eyes narrowed.

The Golden Dragon Emperor moved first, stepping forward with rare urgency."Yaksha," he warned coldly, "do not touch them. The consequences are beyond regret."

Azure Dragon followed, his tone sharper."You are playing with fire you cannot extinguish."

Another step closer."Their background is not something you can afford to test. If blood is shed, you will suffer far beyond this anthill."

The Yaksha Queen laughed.

"I do not care."

She moved.

The kick was effortless.

Both Dragon Emperors were sent flying, bodies tearing through crystal and stone alike as the tunnel wall collapsed inward. They vanished into a deeper chamber, buried beneath shattered layers of the anthill.

She did not look back.

She vanished.

And reappeared before Diala.

"What is going on?" Diala asked, turning instinctively toward Kiaria.

"Dia–" Kiaria's voice cracked. "Run."

The Wolf-Deer Saint reacted instantly.

Space folded, and Diala vanished.

The Yaksha Queen smiled.

She anticipated it.

She teleported ahead of the displacement point and caught Diala by the hair the instant she reappeared outside the anthill. Without slowing, she smashed her downward, shattering every layer between surface and core.

They crashed back into the chamber.

Stone screamed.

Crystal burst.

Diala lay unharmed.

The treasure box enveloped her completely, divine light sealing her existence from harm. But Kiaria did not see relief.

He saw red.

His control slipped.

The monochrome cape darkened.

The sky outside vanished.

Night devoured the horizon.

A moon forced its way into existence–unnatural, violent–and it turned crimson.

Blood Moon.

Kiaria screamed.

Bones cracked throughout his body as the curse surged, the familiar agony magnified by loss of control. His body convulsed, blood mist leaking from every pore.

This time–

He endured.

He stood.

Shaking.

Uncaring.

"You–"

The Patron's attire blackened completely. Monochrome collapsed into abyssal black. Crown, cloak, weapon, gaze–everything drowned in shadow. His birthmark bled reddish-black smoke, flooding the ground like crawling fog.

The Heart Demon did not awaken.

It merged.

The Dragon Emperors froze.

"…Damn it," Azure Dragon whispered. "He turned."

They retreated instinctively, placing themselves behind Diala without explanation.

She turned sharply."Who are you?" she demanded. "Why are you standing behind me?"

"Shhh."

Golden Dragon raised a hand, eyes never leaving Kiaria.

The Heart Demon's gaze shifted.

Locked onto Diala.

A shield snapped into existence around her.

"You shouldn't touch her," he murmured.

Silence bent.

"You shouldn't touch her."

The ground cracked deeper.

"You shouldn't touch her."

The roar tore through the anthill.

The white Sky Crystals began to erode.

That was enough.

The Yaksha Queen reacted on instinct.

Orbiting black crystals condensed instantly, merging into a massive thorn–dense, compressed, lethal. It plummeted toward Kiaria with annihilating force.

He did not move.

The thorn disintegrated inches before his body.

"You shouldn't touch her."

The shards reversed.

Reformed.

And shot toward the Yaksha Queen.

She teleported.

He appeared behind her.

"You shouldn't touch her."

Her eyes widened.

She teleported again.

He followed.

"You shouldn't touch her."

Again.

Again.

Again.

Each teleport drained her.

Her breathing grew uneven. Power reserves plummeted. The relentless pursuit crushed her composure, her dominance unraveling under a single, repeated sentence.

She stopped.

Panting.

Only one option remained.

Fight back.

She retreated in a single spatial fold, reappearing above the shattered chamber where the ant army still lingered in dormant order. The moment her feet touched the air, she screamed–not in human speech, but in the ancient language of the hive.

The sound did not travel through air.

It traveled through blood.

Every Yaksha Ant convulsed as one. Their bodies snapped into formation with mechanical precision, ranks reforming faster than thought. Antennae whipped violently, vibrating at frequencies never meant to be sustained.

The battlefield screamed.

The frequency was meant to shatter cognition–to rupture balance, to liquefy thought through the ears and brain alike. A mental assault refined through generations of extermination wars.

But it backlashed.

Blood streamed from the ants' ears as their own organs failed under the strain. Drums ruptured. Neural channels burned. Still, none retreated.

The Heart Demon did not move.

He stood within the storm, untouched. No ripple disturbed his presence. No reaction crossed his face.

"Any other move?"

The question was calm.

It broke her.

Her body resisted. Her will rebelled. Yet obedience pressed down on her like an unseen hand around her throat. She forced herself to breathe, eyes darting to the orbiting black crystal shards.

Normal attacks would not work.

She raised her antennae again–this time slower, deeper. The vibration changed. No command. No tactic.

Grief.

A silent lament of lost hatchlings. Of bloodlines erased. Of lives meant to inherit the hive. The signal sank into every ant heart, igniting a different law.

Will to Kill.

Under it, hierarchy dissolved. The strongest became conduits, the weaker fuel. Rage condensed, power multiplied beyond natural limits, sustained for as long as hatred endured.

The elites split formation.

Female commanders ascended. Heavy and sturdy units surged forward. Acid gathered, then erupted like volcanic rain, drowning the Heart Demon's position.

He did not defend.

The acid washed over him–burning nothing. Not skin. Not cloth. Not even shadow.

He smiled.

The Heart Demon's gaze shifted.

To the shattered crystal.

To the prematurely dead hatchling.

He vanished.

Reappeared before it.

He did not fully turn to her. Only enough for her to understand.

Fear hollowed her chest.

"What are you planning?" the Yaksha Queen demanded, fist clenching.

A single drop of blood fell.

The hatchling convulsed.

Its body surged with life, maturing in seconds–shell knitting, breath forming, eyes opening. A perfect newborn, alive and whole.

Hope struck her like lightning.

Then terror followed.

"Leave her," she said quickly. "We will let you go. Let her go."

Silence.

"Oh?" the Heart Demon replied softly. "You want me to let it go?"

Her teeth ground together.

She knelt.

"Please."

The word shattered something inside her.

"I'm deaf," he said flatly. "I can't hear you."

He paused, then tilted his head slightly.

"But I can consider it. After all, it's just a newborn… right?"

Her fists trembled.

"Please," she said again. "I will serve you. Forever. Whatever you command–just let my child live."

The Heart Demon levitated slowly upward, drifting above the acid pool left by her army's assault. Below him, the newborn squirmed weakly.

"Fine," he said. "I accept your plea."

He released the child.

The hatchling fell.

The Yaksha Queen flashed forward, teleporting instantly, arms outstretched–

Snap.

The baby vanished mid-air.

"Sigh."

"I changed my mind."

Her breath hitched.

Then steadied.

"What do you want?" she asked, voice controlled by sheer force of will.

"That's simple," the Heart Demon replied. "You were warned by those two worms."

His gaze sharpened.

"You shouldn't touch that little girl."

The words sank deep.

"This brat bound his heart to hers. You shook her–so you shook him." His voice lowered. "Now you atone."

She swallowed.

"Atone… how?"

He smiled faintly.

"You choose."

Her eyes trembled.

"Oh," he added calmly, "my patience is limited."

She closed her eyes.

"I've decided," the Yaksha Queen said.

He smiled wider.

"Oh? That fast?"

"Good."

He leaned forward slightly.

"Then–"

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