Capítulo 46: 46. The Blazing Sun Dragon God
Hello, this is my first time writing a fanfiction. If you notice any errors, please feel free to give me constructive feedback. English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes, please mention them in the comment section at the end of the chapter. Let's begin the story!
Word Count: 3800 Words
Note: Just a reminder that I've changed the Guild Auxiliary chapter. I've made some changes to it. I've removed a couple of NPCs and added a few.
: Mass upload of three chapters.
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New World, Overlord Verse
In the heart of a desolate wasteland—its hills and mountains reduced to ruins mere hours ago—a colossal dragon lay sprawled across the shattered ground. Blood pooled beneath its massive, crimson-scaled frame, seeping from wounds that covered its body. Its once-mighty wings, now shredded and useless, twitched feebly. The Blazing Sun Dragon God, as he was called, glared ahead with eyes filled with both defiance and grudging respect, focusing on the figure hovering above him.
The platinum-haired woman stood like a goddess of war, her silver hair gleaming under the sun's fading light. Though battered, her injuries paled in comparison to the dragon's. Cuts and bruises marred her form, but her regeneration far outpaced the beast's, knitting together flesh and muscle in real time.
Without hesitation, she cast a spell, rising effortlessly into the air. Her blue eyes narrowed as she studied her fallen foe, thoughts racing through her mind.
'A Greater True Dragon—or by Light Novel's classification, a True Dragon Lord. A being of such power... and had yet to make an appearance in the story, at least until the sixteenth volume of the Light Novel or the Webnovel. The Blazing Sun Dragon God,' she mused, her gaze sharp and unwavering.
From her inventory, she summoned a weapon—a gleaming spear that thrummed with a power rivaling the fabled World Items. The shift in her posture was enough to make the dragon stir, sensing the shift in her intent.
"You possess great strength," the dragon rasped, his deep voice vibrating through the broken earth. "Though not as mighty as the Dragon Emperor, you are strong enough to lay me low." His gaze flickered with something between amusement and cunning. "You must be one of the outsiders."
The dragon paused, gauging her reaction. When she gave nothing away, he pressed on, a sly grin curling his bloodied lips.
"More specifically... a player. Yes, you're a player, aren't you? To think one of your caliber would be summoned to this remote little island…"
That single word—island—made her falter. An unsettling realization gnawed at the edges of her mind. The "island" he mentioned wasn't small by any measure. She had deployed every summoned creatures at her disposal, including mercenaries and summoned creatures from items, to map the land. The continent stretched vast and unforgiving, as large—if not larger—than Asia, if she had to make an comparison, dominated by barren valleys and jagged mountains. Rather it was larger than Asia but most of it was wastelands.
And yet, here was this unknown dragon calling it a mere island.
Her mind raced. If this land was considered insignificant, then somewhere beyond the horizon lay a continent so massive it dwarfed everything she knew so far. It also explained why the mapping process had been so smooth, devoid of interference from stronger beings.
'The four Draconic auras I sensed… Were they the ones appeared in the story? Or perhaps weaker Dragon Lords stranded on this island with hundreds of other weaker Dragons?' She felt headache at the implications. If a land of greater magnitude existed, its rulers could be powers beyond her comprehension.
The dragon, sensing her momentary distraction, continued, savoring the tension. "My brothers and sister are stronger than you," he mused, almost lazily. "Or perhaps not... It's hard to say. But even so, you are more powerful than me and my little sister. It seems the one who called himself a World Champion was mistaken—he wouldn't last a second against you. To claim to be the strongest player of Yggdrasil. What a joke he was."
The Dragon grinned, but not from admiration. His lips curled with hidden triumph, for beneath his casual words, he had been weaving magic—discreet, precise, a teleportation spell to whisk him away to safety. Had he rushed, the woman would have sensed it. But as it stood, the incantation was almost complete. Victory lay just within his reach.
He chuckled lowly, speaking as if sharing a secret. "I'll give you one last chance. Become my mate," he offered, his voice seductive and sly. "With your power, we could slay the Dragon Emperor. You wouldn't understand it yet, but we dragons are bound by certain instincts. Finding a mate as strong as you is rare. My brothers have already married players—and even my sister has married a player. But you... you would be honored to stand beside a True Dragon God."
His grin widened. "After all, you are just a fake, aren't you? A draconic imposter from a mortal made game. I believe I am right. It is called as a Game, isn't it."
The woman's patience snapped. She had heard enough. Unbeknownst to the dragon, she had sensed his sly magic from the beginning, allowing him to weave his spell only so far. Now, her response was swift and final.
Without a word, she hurled her spear. It streaked through the air with terrifying speed, slicing through space like a blade through silk. Before the dragon could react, the weapon pierced his heart in less than a pico-second, severing his life essence entirely. His smug grin froze in place, eyes wide with disbelief as the teleportation magic fizzled into nothingness.
The Blazing Sun Dragon God was no more.
The woman descended gracefully to the ruined ground, her sharp gaze sweeping the landscape. What was once a vast expanse of mountains had been reduced to rubble, the aftermath of their battle scarring the earth beyond recognition.
She approached the lifeless dragon's corpse, her hand outstretched. For the first time, she invoked an Unknown power—the ability of the World Devourer.
She had her guesses. In her tenure at the parent company of Yggdrasil, she hadn't worked on Boss Monsters or Monsters. With the exception being Cthulhu and World Devourer. Though she had worked on a couple of World Items, namely Fire Dragon's Heart and more. She had mainly worked on bases of those World Enemies.
She had worked on layout and maps. For Bruce to choose Cthulhu and for World Devourer to chase them. There might have been a link. She could use this line of thought to further solve the mystery. For now, she had work to complete.
Her palm pressed against the dragon's still-warm scales, and a dark, consuming force began to swirl around them. The dragon's soul, essence, and body were drawn into her, merging with her own being. It was an intoxicating surge of power, one she had never experienced before.
This was no ordinary dragon. This was a being that had transcended the level cap of Yggdrasil, a creature whose strength rivaled that of Fafnir, the most infamous World Enemy. But unlike Fafnir, this dragon lacked the god-like regeneration, the perpetual revival, and the curse that made Fafnir such an unkillable menace.
World closed her eyes, feeling the torrent of knowledge and abilities flood her mind. Skills, spells, and ancient powers etched themselves into her soul, but something crucial eluded her. Memories—fragments of the dragon's past—slipped away, leaving gaps she couldn't fill.
'So, not all of it could be devoured,' she mused, frustration flickering beneath her calm exterior. Even with all her power, some truths remained beyond her reach. It was a first for her, with Dragon's status and prowess. She was quite lucky to have achieved this.
But the battle was over. The dragon lay dead, its secrets buried with it—or, at least, most of them. And now, the woman stood amidst the ruins of the battlefield, stronger than before, yet burdened by new questions.
For if this land was merely an island, what else lay beyond it? And what other unimaginable forces awaited her and Bruce in the shadows of this vast and unforgiving world?
Piecing together the Dragon God's memories. She did gather a lot of information of this World.
The Dragon inhabited a larger Continent, namely Dragon Hour.
As for the past, surprisingly the Dragon knew a lot about this World.
As, for the players. There were a couple of Guilds inhabiting the Dragon Hour currently.
---
As she sifted through the fragmented memories of the Blazing Sun Dragon God, a deeper understanding of the world began to form, like puzzle pieces slowly falling into place. What she discovered was far beyond her expectations—and it complicated everything.
The dragon had hailed from a vast continent known as Dragon Hour, a landmass so immense it dwarfed the one she had thought encompassed the world. It was teeming with life, with monsters and players.
And the Dragon Emperor—he wasn't just a myth. He rested atop a floating island that drifted high above the tallest peak, a fragment of a shattered moon. The second moon of this world had been destroyed long ago, and what was left of it hovered in silence, forgotten by all but the Dragons.
Only scattered remnants like this island remained, floating like ghosts in the sky.
World stood quietly in the wasteland, as the wind howled across the shattered landscape. The fight had taken more out of her than she expected, but the real challenge was yet to come. The Blazing Sun Dragon God was just the first. Four others—equally powerful, maybe stronger—still roamed Dragon Hour. And beyond them, the Dragon Emperor waited.
She pulled a locket from her inventory, the cool metal pressing against her palm as she stared at it. This tiny trinket had set everything into motion. 'If not for this… I'd never have known about Dragon Hour or the things waiting for us there.'
Her gaze drifted to the sky, dark and endless. 'This world… it's so much bigger than we thought. And dangerous in ways we couldn't have imagined.'
'I just hope S returns soon…' she thought with a heavy heart. 'This world is far more dangerous than we first believed. Managing the Guild and safeguarding it from the monsters lurking beyond our knowledge will not be easy. Not without him.'
Her fingers tightened around the locket as her thoughts turned to the one she called S. His absence weighed on her, like a shadow that stretched across her soul. 'At least the ROB's cane and suit will protect him. That's the only comfort I have… His safety matters more than anything—more than mine, more than the Guild's survival.'
Though she was immortal, a gift from the ROB to ensure her life was intertwined with S's, it was a hollow blessing. Her immortality came with a binding: she could not die unless S did. Their fates were woven into an eternal tapestry, a bond that could not be severed.
Her voice broke the silence, bitter and laced with regret. "But how am I supposed to face him… after everything I did with Domitor… and with him?"
The memories stung, as sharp and relentless as the dragon's claws had been. The choices she had made, the lines she had crossed—they haunted her, gnawing at her soul like a relentless hunger.
How could she meet his eyes again? What words could possibly bridge the chasm her actions had carved between them? The guilt she carried was a weight even her immortal body struggled to bear.
And yet, despite the regret gnawing at her heart, she knew that time moved forward, indifferent to the burdens she carried. S would return. He had to. And when he did, she would have to find a way to confront not only him but the truths she had buried deep within herself.
Her grip on the locket tightened, her gaze never leaving the sky. Somewhere in the Omniverse, S wandered, his fate entangled with hers. Until then, she would continue—protecting his Guild, confronting whatever dangers this world threw at her, and finding a way to atone for her past.
The wind stirred around her, enveloping her hair in the wind. With a final, resolute breath, she tucked the spear back into her inventory and turned her back to the ruined battlefield.
---
World reappeared within the heart of the Guild Base, her fingers still wrapped tightly around the locket. The air within the sanctuary thrummed softly with enchantments—a comforting pulse of magic that hinted at safety, though her thoughts were far from settled.
'A World Item...' she mused, feeling the subtle hum of power beneath the metal. 'According to the Dragon God's memories, the World Champion, Axerton, cast this locket onto this land. A desperate, final act in his confrontation against the Blazing Sun Dragon God.'
Axerton had fallen in battle—his ideals clashing with the merciless will of the dragon. And in those final moments, he had thrown the locket not out of hope, but defiance. A small rebellion against a foe too powerful to defeat. Yet, even as the artifact left his grasp, the action seemed tragically futile.
"Such a waste," World whispered under her breath. "In the hands of a World Champion, no less. What good was an item made for Magic Casters in the hands of a World Champion?"
World knew better than most the significance of the locket and every other World Item that had once existed within the Yggdrasil.
Beyond mere artifacts, they were pieces of the game's Strongest Items—legendary objects intertwined with history, myth, and power as dictated by their lore.
She'd memorized every detail, cataloging not just the items but also the key players, monsters, World Enemies, and bosses that had defined the game's lore. There was little in Yggdrasil's world she had not touched or uncovered.
She had even made books, listing World Items in one and others with their own categorisation for the Guild's library on Bruce's suggestion.
The locket she now held had once belonged to a prominent guild, an early prize won in the game's chaotic opening stages. At the time, Bruce—better known to her as S—had given her clear instructions:
"Don't spoil the experience for me. Let's savor the hunt. No shortcuts, no maps, no early raids on World Items. We'll play this for fun. I can't waste my twelve years doing nothing."
It was right after his raid on the Surtr.
He had wanted to enjoy the thrill of discovery, avoiding attention from other players and, more importantly, the game's administrators. It was a calculated choice, though it came with risks. When S was finally ready to move on the items, the window of opportunity had closed—another guild had already claimed the locket.
At first, World considered relaying the locket's location to him, planning for the perfect time when they could raid the guild and claim it as their own. But things didn't go as she had expected.
As the game progressed, Bruce's focus shifted. His obsession with gathering power began to wane, replaced by a creeping sense of caution. He had tampered with too many mechanics, altered too many things within Yggdrasil.
The game's story had become too different under his influence—its delicate balance skewed by his tinkering. Fear began to take root, and with it came hesitation. For he was fearing the outcome, he remembered the graph and plot points, pointed out by ROB.
"We'll have time in the New World to collect them all," he had said, brushing aside her concerns about the World Items. "The Dragon Emperor's summoning magic focuses on World Items, not players. Even if the players aren't pulled in, the items will find their way there."
---
Now, standing within the familiar walls of the Guild Base, World's gaze remained locked on the artifact in her hand.
"The Cosmic Eye of Cxaxukluth..." she whispered, the words heavy on her tongue.
Her thoughts drifted back to the Dragon Gods and the strange, arcane magic they wielded—Dragon Soul Magic. It was unlike anything in the game's known systems or the Light Novel: curses laced with starfire, word magic that bent reality itself, and spells that manipulated both space and time.
Quite different from the Wild Magic used by the Dragon Lords.
'Still, from his memories. Only the Dragon Gods are beings capable of using Dragon Soul Magic. While the True Dragon Lords use Dragon Magic or World Magic, which is quite similar to Wild Magic used in the Light Novel.'
"He cursed Axerton, using the curse aspect of the magic that even revival was impossible..." she murmured, piecing together fragments of what she had learned from the fallen Dragon God's memories. The intricacy of the curse impressed her. It was magic born from the soul of the Dragons, woven with energy of their souls.
And yet, it hadn't been enough.
"His magic didn't affect me the way it did Axerton," she noted, a flicker of satisfaction crossing her face. "Perhaps it was the power gap between us... Or the lore of the World Devourer. Or perhaps the World Item in me."
The Dragon God had been formidable—his magic ancient and powerful, his will indomitable. But in the end, he had fallen like all the others. Power, no matter how great, was fleeting in the face of overwhelming force. And World possessed force beyond measure.
With a soft sigh, she slid the locket into her inventory.
"The Blazing Sun Dragon God was just the beginning," she whispered to herself. "There are four more of his kind on the Dragon Hour continent... and beyond them, the Dragon Emperor waits."
Her mind wandered to the floating island—an ancient fragment of the second moon, now a citadel in the sky where the Dragon Emperor slumbered. His awakening would mark the beginning of something far greater—and far more dangerous—than any of them could imagine.
The weight of the future pressed on her, but so did the weight of the past.
---
Three Months Before Blazing Sun Dragon God's Arrival,
New World, Overlord Verse.
It had been decades since the Root had first arrived in the New World. She had tread carefully, keen not to interfere with the flow of events nor spoil the experience Bruce wished to cherish so deeply.
The Guild had been locked away, sealed off from the outside world by her. Using the power of the World Item, Yggdrasil Leaf, she had cast an impenetrable barrier around the Guild—a sanctuary hidden from prying eyes and untouched by the chaos unfolding beyond.
Within the sealed halls, she assumed command over the Guardians, who, thanks to the lore she had so carefully spun for the Fool, followed her with unwavering loyalty and adoration. Managing the Guild was no easy task, but she bore it gracefully, finding satisfaction in the order she had cultivated over the years.
But everything changed the day she received unsettling news: a group of humans had wandered onto Guild grounds. Initially, they had been dismissed—mere mortals, unable to perceive or penetrate the Guild's enchanted defenses. After all, the World Item cloaking the Guild ensured that no ordinary being could even sense its presence, let alone enter.
And yet, impossibly, they had crossed the threshold.
Though not particularly powerful, the humans had been led by someone who wielded magic primitive by comparison, but noteworthy nonetheless. Intrigue stirred within her as she learned of the Gate Guardians' swift and brutal response. The trespassers had been massacred the moment they stepped too close.
This anomaly demanded her attention. It marked the first time since her arrival that she felt compelled to leave the safety of the Guild. Curiosity gnawed at her 'How had they crossed the barriers?' And 'who' were they, to possess such strange fortune?
---
World stepped through the grand entrance of the Guild for the first time in years, a quiet storm of presence that radiated purpose. Behind her followed her guards—The Children of Yggdrasil, each one a masterpiece in their own right.
Leading the retinue, Artoria walked close beside her, as steady as a knight bound by honor. Her sharp gaze never wavered, every step calculated to protect and serve. Not far behind, Scáthach moved with a regal grace, her crimson eyes glowing with an ancient knowing. As if She had lived through countless lifetimes, and even now she carried herself as a warrior queen, ready to confront whatever awaited.
By contrast, Arcueid wandered with restless energy, her golden eyes flitting from one marvel to the next. She was as curious as she was powerful, cataloging everything in sight as if each detail held meaning. Trailing closely behind, Alice kept pace, her delicate form never leaving Arcueid's side, her soft steps a silent vow not to let her companion fall behind.
Further back, Enkidu and Jeanne d'Arc conversed in hushed tones, their words weaving together like old friends sharing secrets only they could understand. Their presence exuded tranquility, though each carried a quiet strength that made them indispensable in battle.
Morgan Le Fay and Raiden, on the other hand, strode with pride and superiority, their every step a declaration of their own magnificence. There was confidence—bordering on arrogance—in the way they carried themselves, a reminder that they were forces of nature unto themselves.
At the very back, Arodes trailed behind, his posture relaxed, exuding an air of nonchalance. He wore a lazy grin that suggested amusement at the world and all its absurdities. Arodes was the trickster of the group, ever eager to stir mischief and troll those around him. Yet World knew better than to be fooled by his antics. She had created him, after all. Beneath his playful exterior was a razor-sharp mind—the one who governed the flow of information throughout the Guild, rivaled only by the elusive Laplace Demon.
World let out a sigh as memories of these Guardians' antics flooded her mind. Decades spent managing their chaos, balancing their quirks, and keeping their overwhelming personalities in check. She felt a strange fondness even in her exasperation.
With a final glance over her eclectic entourage, she moved forward toward the outer gate to meet the Cosmic Armored Knight Commander. The situation needed answers, and she intended to find them.
Though she appeared calm, her mind raced. 'A breach... Impossible, yet it happened.' And if humans—mere mortals—could find a way through the enchanted walls of her Guild, what other threats lay in wait just beyond the horizon?
The wind stirred as World crossed the threshold, her Guardians close behind, ready for whatever lay ahead. Her expression was serene, but within her heart, a quiet resolve took root. 'This world has changed, and the Guild must change with it.'
And so, for the first time in decades, she stepped beyond the safety of the Guild—not as a mere observer, but as a Servant of the Fool.
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**The End**
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Capítulo 47: 47. The Cosmic Eye of Cxaxukluth
Hello, this is my first time writing a fanfiction. If you notice any errors, please feel free to give me constructive feedback. English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes, please mention them in the comment section at the end of the chapter. Let's begin the story!
Word Count: 3600 Words
Note: Just a reminder that I've changed the Guild Auxiliary chapter. I've made some changes to it. I've removed a couple of NPCs and added a few.
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The Root, New World,
Overlord Verse.
As World arrived at the Guild's entrance, her gaze swept over the sprawling grounds of the Guild Compound. Lined up in perfect formation, rows of Golem Knights stood vigil, their towering forms gleaming under the filtered light. Every movement was disciplined and deliberate as they secured the premises, ensuring their Vice Guild Master's visit was both safe and comfortable.
Upon her arrival, the knights stiffened in unison, their metallic frames clanking softly as they gave her a bow. They pledged their unwavering loyalty to the Supreme Ones and the one called the Voice of the Supreme Ones—World herself.
She gave them a curt nod of approval, noting with quiet satisfaction the contrast between their disciplined precision and the chaotic energy of her own entourage. Though the Children of Yggdrasil lacked such coordination, each one among them was a Level-100 NPC, holding rare classes with power that rivaled even dungeon bosses.
They moved with the freedom born of immense strength, and despite their differences, they followed World with loyalty and purpose.
World halted her advance as Artoria stepped forward, blocking her path with an almost imperceptible shift. World's gaze sharpened, sensing the subtle tension in her guard's stance. Curious, she followed Artoria's line of sight, and her eyes landed on an unexpected sight.
There, before a lifeless bodies sprawled across the ground, stood Terror Blade, the enigmatic Floor Guardian of the 14th Floor, Tenebrous World. Flanking him were Leo and Akira Fudo, the Area Guardians of his domain. The trio stood solemnly as Terror Blade exchanged words with the Cosmic Armored Knight Commander, their conversation guarded but intense.
Noticing the shift in the atmosphere, Scathach stood still observing them, ready in case a fight broke out unlike Artoria, who stepped forward to block World's path. Her body tensed, prepared for anything. Meanwhile, Arcueid, who had been idly lingering at the back of the group, had vanished without a word. Alice, noticing her disappearance, scanned the area with mild irritation, only to find Arcueid already by the bodies scattered on the ground, inspecting them with unabashed curiosity.
Alice sighed at the recklessness of her companion, though she wasn't surprised. 'It's just the kind of thing she would do.' Despite World's explicit orders that no one should touch the corpses, Arcueid had sauntered over without hesitation and was now speaking casually with Leo, as if the tension didn't exist at all.
Standing beside World, Alice cast a sidelong glance at Scáthach and Artoria, both of whom remained wary and alert. Yet Alice herself was unconcerned. Regardless of their varied personalities and quirks, they were all bound by one thing—their purpose to serve the Supreme Ones. Their very existence was a testament to that devotion, and their lives were tethered to the Fool above all else.
However, there was one exception—Terror Blade. His loyalty, once unshakeable, had walked the razor's edge between devotion to the Fool and the Root. And now, as Alice observed the subtle tension simmering between him and the other Guardians, it was clear that old wounds hadn't yet healed.
Scáthach's sharp eyes remained locked on Terror Blade, her distrust evident. Artoria, too, held herself like a coiled spring, ready to strike if necessary. In contrast, Morgan le Fay stood with relaxed poise, unbothered by the tension swirling around them. Her confidence in her own abilities radiated effortlessly. Raiden Shogun stood similarly composed, her aura exuding a quiet, imperious pride that mirrored Morgan's. Their every action radiated arrogance.
Alice mused silently, watching them. 'They are the very embodiment of pride—untouchable and unapologetic.'
Her attention returned to Terror Blade, and she let out a slow, quiet sigh. 'His actions back then have left scars that run deep.' Decades had passed since the event, yet it was clear that some of the Guardians still hadn't forgiven him. Nor had they forgotten.
Then, without a care in the world, Arodes strolled lazily past the group, as if the tension were nothing more than an amusing sideshow. Alice shot him a sharp look, but he ignored it, his carefree demeanor grating on her nerves. 'He's always like this—finding amusement in everything, even when the stakes are high.'
Alice's gaze drifted back to World, curious about how she would react. To most, World's expression would appear as still as a porcelain mask. But Alice had spent long enough by her side to catch fleeting glimpses of emotion beneath the surface. And what she saw now was unexpected—amusement. It wasn't just Alice, all of Children of Yggdrasil had spent enough time with World to understand her emotions.
A faint flicker of satisfaction touched Alice's thoughts. 'So, it's just as I thought. She finds this entire scene... amusing.' It was just like World, their True Creator.
Her mind wandered back to the chaos Terror Blade had sown in the past. When the Fool vanished, leaving a gaping absence in their lives, it was Terror Blade who succumbed to despair and borderline craziness. That emptiness had driven him to desperate lengths. Though every Guardian had felt the void left behind by the Fool, TerrorBlade's pain was toxic—more consuming, enough to put the Root in a dangerous situation.
His actions had crossed a line. In his desperation, he had manipulated the Guardians, turning them against World. She had kept the Guardians confined within the Guild walls, believing it was the only way to maintain order in the Fool's absence. But to Terror Blade, that restriction was betrayal. He led a resistance from the shadows, maneuvering from the safety of his own floor, seeking any way to summon the Fool back—even if it meant tearing the Root apart and sacrificing every Guardian to do so.
'I understood him then,' Alice thought. 'That's what made it dangerous.'
Terror Blade's despair was infectious, and every Guardian could relate to it in some way. It made them doubt themselves, doubt their purpose. Was their loyalty to the Fool, to the Root, or to World herself? That uncertainty had shaken them all, making them vulnerable to Terror Blade's influence.
And yet, despite the lingering discord, Arcueid and Arodes acted as though nothing had ever changed. As if the betrayal, the doubt, the division—they were all things of the past. Alice couldn't help but wonder. 'How can they behave so normally? As if everything is perfectly fine?'
The tension lingered in the air, thick and palpable. But through it all, World remained still, her expression unchanged, her amusement flickering like a secret only she understood. And with every passing moment, the question deepened in Alice's mind.
'How long will this fragile peace hold? And when will the Fool return to us?'
---
Floor 22: Key of Light
The Root, New World
Nestled within an unassuming landscape, the floor known as the Key of Light lay hidden behind jagged mountains that encircled it like a fortress. The terrain within this realm was cloaked in an endless, enchanted night, where a vast dark forest stretched in every direction. The woods were treacherous, riddled with arcane traps and interwoven with layers of illusion magic, making even the most skilled intruders lose their way.
At the heart of the forest stood a colossal maze, winding endlessly toward a central tower that pierced the heavens. The tower loomed tall, its silhouette stark against the eternal night. Above, the sky of this floor was a dazzling tapestry—strewn with countless stars and adorned by multiple moons. Chief among them was a giant red moon, perpetually suspended in the sky, casting its eerie, scarlet glow upon the land below. Unlike other floors, where day and night ebbed in harmony, night reigned supreme here, unbroken and eternal.
At the topmost level of the towering spire lay the Throne Room a place of solemn grandeur. Its circular hall was framed by pillars of marble that gleamed ghostly white beneath the moonlight. Statues of Bruce, frozen in his various Avatars, stood silently at the hall's edges, their flawless surfaces catching the light of the moons above. These statues seemed less like mere adornments and more like sacred relics, casting long shadows across the hall's polished floors.
At the far end of the room rested the Giant Dark Throne, an imposing seat carved from an obsidian-like material that seemed to swallow light itself. Upon this throne sat a Demon—perfectly humanoid in form and size, save for the unsettling nature of its presence. Its entire body was clad in an immaculate black suit, with gloves concealing every inch of flesh. Yet, the head it bore was not made of flesh or bone but a swirling mass of black fog, shifting endlessly, refusing to hold a solid shape. Two glowing white flashes where eyes might have been—whether they served any purpose beyond decoration, none could say.
This was the Laplace Demon, the Floor Guardian of the 22nd floor. His expertise lay not just in magic, but in the arts of divination, eldritch magic, summoning, and mind magic. Though both Laplace and Arodes were masters of divination, Laplace surpassed him in prophecy, wielding it as both a class and an art. He ruled with a presence that demanded silence, and thus silence ruled the floor like a monarch.
---
After the Incident,
Following the tense confrontation between Artoria and World, peace had finally returned to the Guild. The unsettling ripple of doubt and discord that had shaken the Guardians was soothed, and with World's dedication to both the Guild and the Fool laid bare, the Guardians had recommitted their loyalty to her without question.
With order restored, each Guardian had returned to their respective floors, retreating into solitude to oversee their domains. In the absence of shared presence, a quiet truce prevailed—an unspoken agreement to remain within their realms and avoid visiting each other's territories.
Laplace Demon, who had observed the unfolding events in silence, now stirred upon his throne. His gloved fingers tapped lightly against the armrest, the sound soft but deliberate. Then, without raising his voice, he spoke:
"Watcher."
The single word echoed faintly through the air, summoning the only other being who shared dominion over the 22nd floor. Unlike other floors that boasted multiple Guardians, this one held only two: the Laplace Demon and the enigmatic Watcher, an entity whose form was as elusive as a dream. The traps and enchantments woven throughout the forest ensured that intruders had never made it far enough to glimpse either of them.
The air above the tower darkened, as storm-like clouds gathered, coiling around the spire in answer to Laplace's call. Shadows swirled and twisted as the Watcher materialized from the gloom, an inky presence waiting silently for its master's command.
Laplace rose from his throne with unhurried grace and teleported to the rooftop of the tower, where the full expanse of the forest stretched out below him like a living labyrinth. The red moon's baleful light bathed the landscape in shades of crimson and black, creating an otherworldly beauty that was as mesmerizing as it was foreboding.
Standing atop the tower, Laplace gazed down upon his domain with detached calm. His voice, smooth as a whispered curse, drifted into the night air.
"Go beyond the Guild." His words carried the weight of inevitability, a command that left no room for misinterpretation.
He paused for a moment, exhaling softly, as if weary from the weight of unseen burdens. "There are idiots stirring up trouble. See to it that they calm down."
From within the folds of his dark suit, Laplace produced a scroll—a parchment. He tossed it toward the swirling clouds of the Watcher's form.
"And deliver this to the Mother," he added, his tone quieter, almost thoughtful. "Only to her. No one else."
The Watcher accepted the scroll without a sound, its dark presence dispersing into the blackness of the Evernight. It vanished like smoke carried away by an unseen wind, slipping silently into the endless night that enveloped the floor.
"May the Fool protect you.", Laplace words lingered, as it was the last words Watcher heard before disappearing.
Laplace remained on the rooftop, standing alone beneath the red moon's unblinking gaze. He folded his arms behind his back, his expression unreadable as he stared into the horizon. The forest below shifted and sighed under the weight of his silent observation, as if the very landscape itself could feel the presence of its master.
With the Watcher gone, Laplace allowed himself a moment of stillness, his thoughts drifting like the stars scattered across the night sky. He would need to reinforce the floor soon. Intrusions, no matter how small, could not be tolerated. But for now, he lingered in the quiet, savoring the fleeting tranquility of the Evernight.
In the depths of the 22nd floor, where illusion blurred the line between dream and reality, the stars whispered truths hidden from mortal sight, Laplace waited. He knew better than anyone that the night could not keep its secrets forever.
'And when the stars aligned just right, and the Fool returns. Oh! Master your servant awaits your return. You whose form and existence dwarfs all of creation.'
---
At the entrance of the Guild, the tension between World's guards and TerrorBlade's entourage was palpable. Neither side made a move, both locked in an uneasy standoff. Weapons remained in hand but not yet drawn, like wolves baring teeth but waiting for the signal to pounce.
TerrorBlade, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, turned to find World herself standing at the threshold. With fluid precision, he moved forward, accompanied by the Cosmic Armoured Knight, the subtle weight of their collective aura bearing down on the scene. Both knelt before her—TerrorBlade lowering his head as if in reverence, while Leo and DevilMan, the Area Guardians at his side, followed suit, bowing low to acknowledge her authority.
Even with their show of loyalty, the tension hung thick in the air, like the calm before a storm. Saber or Artoria kept her hands on the hilt of her sword, the slightest twitch in her grip betraying her readiness to strike. Beside her, Scathach gripped her spear, poised to sever heads the moment the need arose.
Alice, alert and watchful, stood ready to join the fray at a moment's notice, her eyes flicking between allies and potential enemies. In contrast, Morgan le Fay and Raiden Shogun remained statuesque, their expressions betraying nothing—merely silent observers radiating confidence, as though the entire matter amused them. Enkidu and Jeanne d'Arc flanked World's sides, like twin guardians, ready to unleash their wrath at the slightest provocation.
Arcueid, unbothered by the undercurrent of hostility, strode past the others. She moved with urgency in her steps, though the ever-present smile on her face made it difficult to discern the seriousness of her intent. Without hesitation, she approached World. The others watched with guarded eyes, but Arcueid paid them no mind. Even Arodes, standing nonchalantly behind the Cosmic Armoured Knight, seemed content to watch the proceedings with his usual air of detached amusement.
When Arcueid reached World, her tone was calm, her demeanor relaxed. With a glimmer in her eye, she extended her hand, revealing a locket resting in her palm. "Look what I found on that man, Mother," she said, passing the object to World.
World's expression remained neutral, but within her mind, recognition struck like a bolt of lightning. 'A World Item.'
'The Cosmic Eye of Cxaxukluth,' her thoughts whispered. This item was no ordinary trinket—it was a World Item, designed for magic casters. Its lore was both extraordinary: it allowed its bearer to cast any spell in existence, regardless of the wielder's race or class, so long as the caster had prior knowledge of the spell.
The pieces of the puzzle snapped into place, and a new understanding dawned. This was how they had managed to breach the barrier of the Guild, bypassing even the defenses of a World Item. The realization left a flicker of surprise on her face, visible only to those sharp enough to notice.
Contemplating her next move, she shifted her attention to TerrorBlade, who awaited her response with unwavering composure.
"You may speak, TerrorBlade," World intoned, her voice carrying the weight of unyielding authority.
TerrorBlade rose slightly, just enough to meet her gaze without breaking protocol, and pledged his loyalty to World and the Supreme Ones once more. His voice was steady, reverent—but the tension that simmered among the Guardians told another story.
"May the Scarlett King Protect you." he spoke as he continued. "TerrorBlade at your Service, oh the Voice of the Supreme Ones. This Demon pledges his loyalty to the Supreme Ones."
With the DevilMan and Leo nodding along with him.
Artoria, standing rigid and unforgiving, was the first to speak, her tone sharp and filled with suspicion. "Loyalty is easily claimed, but trust must be earned."
Scathach followed, her voice as cold as winter steel. "Your words are pleasant, TerrorBlade, but your actions cast a long shadow. What assurance do we have that you will not betray us again?"
Enkidu's green eyes gleamed with quiet intensity, his gaze unwavering. "It's not betrayal we fear—it's the path you choose to walk. One misstep, and you wish to destroy and tear downthe Root."
Even Jeanne d'Arc, who seldom voiced her doubts, spoke with solemnity. "Loyalty without clarity is dangerous. We fight for the Supreme Ones, yet you sought to twist that purpose for twisted reasons."
The tension deepened with every word, the distrust among them surfacing like cracks in a fragile wall.
TerrorBlade, however, remained composed under the weight of their accusations. His eyes, burning with quiet conviction, never left World's. Though his past actions had sown discord, there was no doubt in his heart where his loyalty lay now.
World observed the exchange with detached interest, her mind calculating every nuance. Arodes shifted slightly, a subtle grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, sensing the potential for chaos and mischief. Yet even he remained silent, content to see how events would unfold.
Amusement flickered briefly across World's face, a rare expression that only Arodes caught. Among the chaos, he was standing close enough to notice the subtle shift, felt a strange mix of satisfaction and concern.
He mused silently to herself. 'It was inevitable that they would doubt him. After all, TerrorBlade nearly succeeded in turning us against World in the past. His desperation to find the Fool… it consumed him, made him reckless."
TerrorBlade's actions, though extreme, had resonated with the Guardians in ways they could not deny. Each of them had felt the emptiness gnawing at their hearts after the Fool's disappearance. And TerrorBlade, with his fierce determination, had only voiced what they all feared—that their purpose without the Fool was meaningless.
Yet it was TerrorBlade's manipulation of the Guardians
and his attempt to defy World that had nearly destroyed everything. His misguided efforts had forced the Guardians to question their loyalty—to wonder whether they served the World and the Root or the Fool alone.
'He walked the line between salvation and destruction,' Arodes thought grimly, 'and now we are left to pick up the pieces.'
As the tension crackled in the air, a dark cloud appeared coiling, blocking the moon light from the Guild. Drawing everyone's attention to itself, its voice boomed as it spoke "Enough."
Its voice was calm, but the weight of his presence was undeniable. The Guardians fell silent, though the tension between them did not fully dissipate.
It continued sensing the silence.
"We are in the presence of the World, the Voice of the Supreme Ones. The True Creator of the Root. Servant of the Great Fool, the Master of the Root and all us guardians."
Though it did hit a nerve for all those present to be told by, from a mere Area Guardian. Yet they remained silent. To them, it wasn't a matter of pride or arrogance that called this feeling. It was Watcher's break of protocol, set by the Fool and World.
The hierarchy designed by The Fool and World was more important to them than their life.
So, when it broke the rule. It infuriated them. Yet they remained calm, knowing it was right.
Having silenced them, and getting their attention. The Watcher continued.
"May the Fool protect you. My lady, World. You bless this insignificant being by blessing it with your presence."
World surprised by his intervention, nodded at it.
Watcher continued after the acknowledgement it received from World. "Lord Laplace has sent me here to pass this message to you. Since, he is busy with reinforcing the floor, it pangs his heart that he couldn't make it here himself."
World received the scroll from Watcher. Sensing its gaze, she nodded at it.
"There is no need to apologize Watcher. It was I who has tasked all the Guardians to reinforce the Guild. Give him my greetings."
"It will be done my lady."
With the sound of its gratitude, the dark cloud dispersed. Leaving them with regret and anger at both the Laplace Demon and the Watcher. They both were outliners and nonchalant. Who didn't bother with the structure of the Guild and only reported to the Fool and World. Their loyalty running deep, only to the Fool and their creator World.
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**The End**
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