Ethan instinctively raised an arm to shield his eyes—

But then, something shifted.

His blood began to hum.

The light pouring from Andona wasn't just radiance—it was resonance. A tide of energy rippling outward from her, warm and luminous, wrapping the space in a hush of awe.

Behind her, wings of light unfurled—faint at first, like echoes of something divine. Then brighter. Clearer. Each feather shimmered like a star caught in motion, flowing inward, layer by layer, into her body.

The air trembled.

Ethan reached out, instinctively syncing his own energy with the Angelic current.

It was warm. Brilliant. Hypnotic.

"So this… this is the Primordial Force unique to Angels…" he murmured.

He steadied himself, heart slowing, and guided Andona gently toward the center of the sanctum.

She closed her eyes.

Light rose from within her, slow and steady, as if a sun had been lit deep in her chest.

Time passed—minutes, maybe more.

The sky above grew brighter with every breath she took, until even the air itself was steeped in gold.

And then, as the final thread of light sank into her—

BOOM—!

A shockwave of energy burst outward, sweeping across the sanctum.

Ethan squinted into the brilliance, watching her silhouette bloom in the heart of it.

She looked like a Seraph reborn.

When her eyes opened, they glowed with molten gold and white, like twin rivers of light.

Tier 22—mid-stage.

Ethan's lips curled into a quiet smile.

For the first time in a long while, something like peace stirred in his chest.

Andona. Auri. Idra…

They were all growing stronger.

And he was no longer facing the Sky Citadel alone.

He glanced around the sanctum, gaze sharp again.

"This layer—ends here," he said, voice calm, grounded.

"We're pulling out. The Sky Citadel won't stay quiet forever."

He turned, leading the army back through the veil of light—

and out of the Sky Citadel.

...

Night fell once more over Emerald Castle.

Ethan stood in the outer fields, the wind tugging at his coat.

Auri and Idra hovered at his sides, their halos pulsing faintly, casting off motes of light that spun like fireflies in orbit. The air shimmered with them—tiny spirits of energy, dancing in the dusk.

He raised a hand.

The light-spirits streamed toward him, threads of brilliance weaving into his body. His breath steadied. Power surged, slow and sure, like a tide returning to shore.

Then—

BOOM—rumble-rumble-rumble—

The ground shuddered beneath him, a deep, unsettling quake, as if something vast was stirring far below.

Ethan's brow furrowed. A crack split the earth at his feet.

A second later, something burst from the ground in a spray of dirt and dust.

It was a creature—gray-brown, its body draped in loose, flaking scales. Its eyes gleamed coldly in the dark.

It froze the moment it met Ethan's gaze.

So did he.

For a heartbeat, man and beast stared at each other in mutual surprise.

Then the creature shrieked, spun around, and dove back into the earth.

Ethan snorted. "Run? Not likely."

In a blink, his form blurred—then vanished, streaking after it underground.

The earth sealed behind him, silent once more.

…

When he stopped, the sight before him gave him pause.

This wasn't just a tunnel.

It was an underground kingdom.

The walls glowed with soft mineral light, like stars breathing beneath the soil. The air was thick with damp heat and something else—an ancient scent, quiet and still, tinged with a faint, uneasy fear.

Ethan looked down.

He was gripping the creature by the scruff of its neck. It trembled violently, mouth working soundlessly.

Up close, its face bore a strange resemblance to a human's—though its hands ended in claws, and mud-colored scales fanned out behind its ears.

"Molekin…" Ethan murmured, naming the species.

The creature collapsed with a thud, dropping to its knees. Its forehead hit the ground with a series of frantic thumps.

"I'm sorry! Please, mercy!" it babbled. "We were drawn by the power above—we didn't mean to intrude!"

"Don't kill us! We just… we just wanted to dig a place to live!"

Ethan scanned the cavern.

Eyes. Dozens—no, hundreds—of eyes glinted in the dark.

They peered from cracks in the rock, from the depths of the tunnels. Molekin, everywhere. Small, pale, and sickly thin, each one curled into the shadows like they were trying to disappear.

Then he noticed what lay beneath their feet.

A single orb, dark brown and faintly pulsing, half-buried in the dirt.

Ethan lifted a hand. The orb rose into his palm, weightless.

He knew at once—it wasn't just a stone.

It was the heart of the entire colony.

A system prompt flickered across his vision:

[Cluster Spirit Core detected. Removal will result in total collapse of group vitality.]

Ethan narrowed his eyes.

An entire race, bound to a single orb.

Which meant—they didn't own their lives. Not really.

He turned the core gently in his hand.

The cavern fell utterly still.

All around him, the Molekin dropped to their knees, trembling.

One of them scrambled forward, tripping over its own limbs, and threw itself at his feet. It wept as it bowed, forehead pressed to the stone.

"That's our heart—our tribe's heart! Please, don't destroy it! We'll give you anything!"

"Gems, ore, secrets—whatever you want! We'll even steal for you, anything, just… just let it live!"

Ethan stood in silence for a moment.

The shifting light of the underground kingdom played across his face, casting shadows that made his expression hard to read—cool, detached, but with a flicker of something softer. Pity, maybe. Or understanding.

He crouched down, voice calm and even.

"I don't intend to kill you."

The Molekin lifted its head, a fragile spark of hope flickering in its eyes.

"But," Ethan added, pausing just long enough to let the weight settle, "you tunneled beneath my castle. Damaged the defensive wards. That's not something I can overlook."

He extended his hand and slowly placed the orb back on the ground.

"If you want to make amends, you'll have to repay the debt."

The Molekin held their breath, every eye fixed on him.

Ethan's voice dropped, low and steady, with a quiet authority that brooked no argument. "From this moment on, your tribe serves under Emerald Castle. I don't want your lives—I want your hands."

"Your digging, your stealth, your gift for vanishing into the earth—that's not a curse. It's a talent. And I can give you sunlight again. But the price is loyalty."

The silence that followed was absolute.

The lead Molekin stared at him, stunned. Then, slowly, tears welled in its eyes, cutting muddy tracks down its cheeks.

"You… you'd take us in?"

Ethan gave a faint smile. "I don't just collect power. I collect loyalty."

"Yes! Yes, of course!" the Molekin cried, voice cracking with emotion.

The cavern erupted.

All around them, the Molekin stirred—creatures who had lived their entire lives in darkness now peeking from crevices, blinking in disbelief. High-pitched cries echoed through the tunnels, sharp with joy.

Some of them scrambled upward, clawing their way to the surface, where—for the first time—they touched sunlight with their own hands.

Ethan watched them, something strange and quiet stirring in his chest.

He turned and gave the order: a new tract of land would be carved out along the borders of Emerald Castle, a place for the Molekin to call their own.

"Dig your tunnels there," he said.

"Build me a network of hidden paths and defense mazes."

Sunlight spilled down from the sky, washing over their gray skin.

And in that moment, the Molekin wept.

For the first time, they had stepped out of the shadows.

And the light was theirs.

...