Dawn broke over Windrest City with a gray, reluctant light.
Ethan stood in the ruined tower with the Matriarch’s cold gaze pinned on him, and finished what he’d come to do.
[SYSTEM]
You have slain the Gargoyle Matriarch.
Hunter Advancement Quest (I): Completed.
All Hunter Advancement Quests: Completed.
You have advanced to Tier 4 Hunter.
New Hunter Skill learned: Multishot.
You have gained a reward: Roasted Fish Egg (Rare).
[/SYSTEM]
The Matriarch’s body stiffened into stone, then weathered in seconds – as if time itself had decided to erase her. Cracks spiderwebbed across her face. A breath later, she shattered into powder and shards.
Ethan didn’t linger. He never did, not when the System had just rung a bell loud enough to draw every predator within miles.
Five days earlier, the Sorrow Theater had collapsed into itself. The broken lighthouse had risen again from the sea as if it had never fallen. People called it a miracle.
Ethan knew better.
Haizan had forced the ritual to shift. He’d stolen the anchor Panglos Fell wanted, drained the last remnants of the Black Dragon bloodline’s legacy into Skye, and left the tower hollow. Without that power holding it up, the Sorrow Theater finally gave in to gravity and rot.
To everyone else, it was a mystery and a rumor. To Ethan, it was a clock starting its next countdown.
On September 7, Cycle 9, Ethan sat in a quiet attic in the outer city and listened to reports.
The Violet Eye delegation had left quickly, declaring they’d “confirmed” the presence of a demigod and returning home with their own fantasies intact.
The Violet Goldflower Cathedral was even happier to leave. With the tower gone, nothing else crawled out of the dark to rattle their faith. They could finally sleep.
The Earth Ring was the strangest of all.
Benjamin mentioned, in a passing letter, that Red Falcon was returning.
Red Falcon had escorted Faranil’s notes to the royal capital and hadn’t come back. During the Sorrow Theater crisis, Ethan had expected him to return with the King’s authority and a clean solution.
Instead, Red Falcon hadn’t cared – until now.
Did that mean the King hadn’t cared until now?
There was Panglos Fell.
Ethan had stolen the governor’s chance. A man like Panglos didn’t forgive that kind of humiliation.
So Ethan tightened every thread he could reach. He moved his pieces. He built exits.
When Haizan arrived, Ethan didn’t waste the opening.
“Open the Sea Market,” he ordered. “Immediately.”
“My liege!” Haizan nearly dropped to his knees. “You have already granted us a sanctuary for our souls. By our oath, I should offer you the Tide Scepter. You are the Tyrant – why would I speak of reopening the Sea Market?”
He said it like a test – like he was afraid Ethan was measuring his loyalty.
Haizan’s fear wasn’t just fear of power. In the Dragon Pack, he’d glimpsed a few loose pages of Faranil’s notes Ethan had “accidentally” left behind. That alone was enough to make a troll chieftain’s blood run cold.
And Ethan’s “incomprehensible” promotions only made it worse. Haizan had first seen him as a mere Tier 2. A day later, Tier 3. Then, after the Matriarch fell, Tier 4.
Haizan did not understand time between worlds. He only understood results.
Ethan turned the Tide Scepter once in his hand, feeling the weight of an old sea’s authority – and then tossed it back.
“Hold it for now,” he said. “Manage the Sea Market for me.”
Haizan caught it, baffled.
Ethan leaned in just enough to make his next words land like a hook.
“I found a portion of Faranil’s notes during my travels,” Ethan said. “There’s a method in them – a way to return a soul to a body. To bring the dead back to the world.”
Haizan went utterly still.
“Your current form is a problem,” Ethan continued. “Not just because others are waiting to replace you, but because souls can’t keep advancing forever without flesh. In the end, you and your warriors will fade.”
“If you want,” Ethan said calmly, “bring me bodies you deem acceptable. I will preside over the rite. I will help you revive. You – and your three thousand warriors.”
He paused, voice turning sharp.
“But remember this: no innocent blood.”
Haizan’s throat worked as if he couldn’t swallow the moment. Decades of desperate searching, compressed into one breath.
He dropped to one knee with a heavy, reverent thud.
“From this day on,” Haizan said, voice trembling, “I will serve you with everything I have.”