A gentle ray of light pierced her eyelids. The warmth of the fluffy bedsheet permeated her body. Cyania opened her eyes. The birds chipped, the leaves rustled. When the soft breeze blew, it brought with it a fragrance of the scented candles.

Footsteps echoed throughout the room before stopping in front of her. She turned to see a maid holding a bowl of rice porridge.

Cyania tried to get up, but the pain numbed her body. She tumbled and collapsed on her bed. The maid quickly placed the bowl before helping her.

"Please don't be rash," the maid said.

"Where am I?"

"You're currently resting in your bedroom."

"My bedroom?" A splitting headache struck Cyania. She grabbed her head. "No . . ."

"Please lay down for a moment."

Without any strength to move around, Cyania leant on her bed.

In silence, the maid served her the rice porridge. Once it entered her mouth, the sweet yet salty flavour melted. The flood of satisfaction was unbearable. The food of the Elven Kingdom was still the best.

"Mistress, you're too beautiful."

"Why do you think so?"

Cyania fiddled with her hair. Their colour gradient soothed her mind, from the natural green, filled with nature's touch, to deep blue, mystical and fantastical.

The colours of her hair distracted her.

"What happened to my hair?"

"You don't remember?" the maid said, her face turning perplexed, then understanding. "Ah, I'm sorry."

Her face turned red as she realised her mistake. She bowed to Cyania, her movement was rigid yet adorable.

"If you know something, then tell—"

The pain assaulted her mind. Her vision blurred. She stood in the middle of the boundless darkness, the world covered by an all-consuming fog. She struggled to escape, but she couldn't run from the pair of hands that chased her.

Like a phantom, they glowed in illusionary dark purple and moved through space without any resistance. In an instant, they enveloped Cyania like how Princess corner her. She tried to scream, but no words came out. The sea of corpses around her absorbed her voice.

"Mistress, are you alright?" The maid shook her. "You look pale."

"Yes, I'm fine, really," Cyania said, her expression twisting. "Just leave me. I'll call you later."

The maid sighed, nodded, and quietly walked out of the room.

In the stillness, Cyania surveyed the surrounding. The soft hue of the room, the comfy bed, and the scented air were her haven. She felt at ease under the invisible power protecting her. Nevertheless, the thought of the event brought melancholy into her heart.

Like rains, the tears poured onto her bedsheet, tainting the joyful atmosphere with a gloomy bellow. Every warmth drop reminded her of her comrades, her journey, her experience, and her happiness.

She stretched her hand. Without channelling, Fons responded to her wish and formed an elegant formation. Her power had improved by leaps and bounds.

"So you're still alive," she said and smiled.

The slave contract, the bond between her and Canaris, was still intact. As long as he was alive, it would never break.

She looked up. Though she couldn't see anyone, she could feel a subtle presence around her.

"Thank you," she prayed. Her hair fluttered with the gentle breeze as if an invisible hand caressed it.

The matter of her awakening should be a joyous occasion, but she felt only sorrow. Her teammates had died. Canaris was with Princess.

"Just wait, I'll bring you back." This failure, she would settle it herself.

In her rest, she laid motionless. She decided to conceal the existence of Princess. As long as Canaris was alive, she would keep the secret. It was her revenge. No one else could interfere.

"Great Spirit, if you're watching, please allow me to finish what I've started," Cyania said. "For your kindness, I won't fail this time."

...

In the hallway, only a series of heavy panting was present. The sudden arrival and departure of the Spirit toppled the vessel.

Princess coughed. Blood leaked from her mouth. It was metallic yet sweet, just like the taste of those she consumed. Today, she had died once.

She pushed herself up and turned around. Angelica struggled to stand up. Her body jointed every so often, indicating issues within her internal system.

"I lost." Princess wiped the blood on her lips. Her smile widened. Her laughter leaked out. She was happy.

The Spirit, a being granted the title by the Gods, couldn't kill her.

"Angelica, how was it?" Princess said. "Isn't it wonderful?"

Angelica was confused. She looked around but couldn't find the source of Princess's happiness.

"Come, it isn't the end." Princess pulled Angelica up before walking to the unconscious Canaris.

With all her might, she kicked his stomach. He was heavier than she expected. Her kick barely pushed him, though he still groaned.

"Lady Cyania," Canaris said. "Where are you?"

"Still thinking about her?" Princess aimed the handgun at him.

His eyes turned sharp. He tried to move, but with the threat of a gun pointing at him, he didn't dare to do anything.

"What do you want?" he said. "Where is my lady?"

"She's gone. You've been abandoned."

"Don't lie to me."

"See if you can find her."

Though it was dark and gloomy, Canaris could easily see the truth. He couldn't find Cyania. His face contorted, his eyes turning lifeless.

"Where did you hide her?" he shouted, his voice trembling.

"I'll offer you two choices," Princess said. "Die here or serve me."

"My life is only for—"

"Think about this carefully." Princess gestured for Angelica. "If your heart is with her, you mustn't selfishly die. Do you think she will be happy if you die now?"

Canaris fell into contemplation. Her words haunted his head.

"Don't worry. Your lady is still alive."

Princess stretched her hand to Canaris, but Angelica tried to stop her.

"I can walk on my own." Canaris gawked at Princess and stood up without receiving her hand.

"Welcome to my side." Princess pulled back and giggled.

"Remember that I don't serve you. I will only cooperate until my lady comes."

"Follow me. It's time to prove your worth."

"Mistress, please wait." Angelica struggled to keep up. Princess had to slow her pace.

...

Static noise rang then faded away.

"Team B-114-EA, reporting," a deep voice echoed.

"This is an emergency situation, please report your progress," the personnel said.

"Our team suffered a minor skirmish. Estimated time to complete the objective is three days."

"By the special order of the Department of Defence, you are to abandon your mission and rush back to City D-34."

"Sir, what happened?"

"Keep the formality. A C-graded tide floods Sector D," the voice said. "Before the central control could send the reinforcement, we must hold our ground inside the city."

"A C-graded tide?"

"Please hurry up and come back. The city will activate Exsupero soon."

"Activating the automaton fortress already?"

"It's like gods and devils descend here."

A long silence reigned, but the personnel dared to cut the connection. He needed an assurance, anything that might ignite hope in his heart.

"We'll try to get back as soon as possible."

"Thank you for your answer. Team B-114-EA, we hope to see you very soon."

The personnel cut the connection and sighed. Fortunately, that team was still alive.

...

Under the depth of a wasteland, a vast underground dome rested in silence. Despite the chaotic design, peace reigned undisturbed.

Though the design was of the Arachna, there were arts engraved on the pillars, the scrolls stored in worn-down shelves, and sculptures detailing great legends.

In the absolute darkness, everything froze in place. Until the appropriated time, nothing would move, for they cared not the luxury of literature and history.

In the middle of the dome, Fons concentrated and erupted. Its fluctuation lit the chamber, revealing the beauty concealed within the darkness.

At the edge of the dome, floating crystals orbited around the central point and displayed different sceneries of the world. Battlefields, ruins, wastelands, forestries—the boundary between the world of the Arachna and the Great Races remained for all to see.

"How is she?" a voice echoed, its distortive quality was akin to thousands of overlapping static noises.

In the middle of the room, a humanoid figure knelt. Its body, coated in pale-white carapaces, exuded a faint presence. With its six arms placed on the floor, its silhouette was majestic.

"Her highness has gotten used to her new body. In the process, she obtained one android and one Beastkin as her subordinates," the figure said.

"How is she?"

"Please judge it with your exalted vision." The figure trembled under the invading presence. Its expression turned from awe to ecstasy—the joy of serving a greater being.

"Those two are anomalies," the voice said. "Get rid of them if possible, but don't anger her. She mustn't have any weakness for them to exploit."

"As you command."

As for the Spirit, it wasn't worthy. As long as it didn't harm her, it could live a little longer.

"Just a little bit, my dear." The intention was clear. "I miss you."

They would be meeting soon.