The giant eye revealed something far more horrific than anyone could have imagined. For the first time, it showed its body.
And what a body it was.
Clinging to the obsidian surface of the towering Runic Spire like some ancient eldritch abomination, the creature's true form was a grotesque, reality-defying nightmare. Its body wasn't just one massive eye. It was composed of seven monstrous eyes, each the size of the spire's towering arches.
The irises weren't normal either. They were translucent, deep blue, and they blinked. Not with eyelids—there were none—but the irises themselves contracted and dilated, mimicking the act of blinking in a way that was disturbingly alien.
The way those eyes pulsated sent shivers down the spines of even the bravest onlookers, had there been any still standing to watch.
Its body beneath the cluster of eyes was no less nightmarish. Thick, twisting tentacles coiled and uncoiled, their slick, dark surfaces glistening like ink under sunlight. The appendages stretched impossibly long, wrapping around the entire spire, digging into its surface with suckers that seemed more like mouths, each one filled with tiny, chittering teeth. The tentacles pulsed with a rhythm that didn't feel like life.
And it wasn't just the sheer size or grotesque appearance that was horrifying. It was the presence. The overwhelming sense of wrongness that radiated from the creature. It felt as if reality itself struggled to accommodate its existence.
The very air trembled, vibrating with a low, guttural hum that seemed to seep into the bones of those still nearby. For those unfortunate enough to glance directly at the creature, nausea and vertigo came almost instantly, forcing them to look away or risk succumbing to its paralyzing effects.
And they would turn into frozen statues.
The people of the city had already known fear when the eye appeared. But now? Now they knew despair.
Siranna's daughters had acted quickly. Before the eye—or now, the eyes—could fully extend its influence, they had worked tirelessly to activate the teleportation circles scattered throughout the city. The two crescent-shaped islands surrounding the main Halo Island, shielded from the creature's presence by some ancient enchantments, became safe havens. Citizens poured through the glowing circles in droves.
Siranna herself had ensured her daughters' safety before stepping through the last active circle. Her expression, though calm, betrayed the weight of the moment. Her children tugged at her sleeves, asking if Vastarael would be alright, and she had only nodded, offering quiet reassurances she wasn't entirely sure were true.
Now, the once-bustling Halo Borough was silent save for the guttural hum of the creature clinging to the spire. The only remaining souls in the city were Vastarael, Adelasta, and Phaenora.
On the entrance of the spire, Phaenora stood with arms crossed, her long sapphire hair whipping in the wind as she stared at the abomination. But unlike before, she didn't seem angry, not at the creature and surprisingly, not at Adelasta. In fact, as her gaze shifted from the eldritch monster to the crimson-haired woman standing beside Vastarael, a surprising calm settled over her features.
"You," Phaenora said, her voice even, but not without its usual teasing edge. "So, you're the one who married him."
Adelasta, who had been preparing herself for some sort of confrontation, blinked in surprise.
"Yes," she replied cautiously, glancing at Vastarael, who was busy inspecting the monster from the edge of the balcony. "I… I am."
For a moment, Phaenora said nothing. Then, to Adelasta's complete shock, she nodded approvingly.
"Good."
"…Good?" Adelasta echoed, her voice rising slightly in disbelief. "You're okay with this?"
Phaenora shrugged, her gaze turning back to the monster. "Of course. I mean, it's not like he married someone unworthy of him. You're strong, clever, and not half-bad looking, either. If anything, I should be relieved."
Adelasta's jaw nearly dropped. This was not the reaction she had been expecting.
"Relieved? You're… glad?"
Phaenora smirked, finally turning to fully face her.
"Why wouldn't I be? Vastarael's an idiot, but he's my idiot. I've been his companion since birth, Adelasta. Do you really think I'd let just anyone tie themselves to him? If I didn't approve, trust me, you'd know. And also, it was bound to happen."
Adelasta couldn't help but narrow her eyes slightly, a twinge of jealousy bubbling up despite herself.
"You act as if you had a say in it," she muttered under her breath, though Phaenora clearly heard her.
"Oh, I absolutely do," Phaenora replied with a grin. "And don't forget it."
That was it. Adelasta sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose as frustration and resignation warred within her.
"I'm his wife," she said slowly, as if reminding herself as much as Phaenora. "But somehow, you still seem to have more influence over his life than I ever will."
Phaenora tilted her head, her grin softening into something more sincere.
"Look, I'm not here to compete with you. You're his wife, Adelasta. That means you're part of his life now, just as much as I am. And if you're worried about me getting in the way, don't be. I'm not here to steal your spotlight. I'm here to make sure he doesn't screw things up too badly."
Adelasta stared at her for a long moment, unsure whether to feel reassured or annoyed. Finally, she sighed again.
"You're… strange."
Phaenora chuckled. "You'll get used to it."
Meanwhile, Vastarael, oblivious to their conversation, groaned loudly as another tremor shook the spire.
"I just wanted one peaceful morning! Is that really too much to ask?! Ugh, now I have to fight again and I thought that I wouldn't do this. My Bane really is the worst."
Both women turned to look at him, their brief moment of understanding interrupted as he stomped back toward them, his expression a mix of frustration and determination.
"Alright," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Let's get this over with."
The monstrosity suddenly shifted. A deep, guttural rumble emanated from within its mass, shaking the very ground beneath Vastarael, Adelasta and Phaenora. Then, to their collective horror, the cluster of seven pulsating eyes parted. The thing's flesh, or what could loosely be described as such, split open vertically, revealing a massive, gaping mouth that hadn't been there before.
The mouth was impossibly wide, lined with spiraling rows of massive uneven teeth. And from its depths, something began to pour out—no, vomit out. A torrent of grotesque humanoid forms erupted forth, splattering onto the ground below with wet, sickening thuds.
The creatures were nightmarish in their design, a twisted parody of the human form. Their heads bore no eyes, no nostrils. Just wide, grinning mouths that stretched unnaturally across their faces, filled with rows of serrated teeth.
They walked on all fours, their limbs impossibly long, two meters for the limbs alone, and with their bodies, they stood nearly three meters tall. Their movements were jerky and unnatural, as if they were unused to existing in the world. When they moved, they did so with horrifying speed, their claws scraping across the ground as they bounded toward the spire.
As they poured out, dozens turned into hundreds in a matter of moments. The island was being overrun.
Adelasta's breath caught in her throat as she watched the chaos unfold.
"What in the—"
Before she could finish, the Obsidian Runic Spire reacted. A black aura pulsed outward from its base, spreading in a wave that enveloped the central island. Within seconds, the aura solidified into a massive, transparent hemispherical barrier that trapped everything and everyone still on the island.
Vastarael's jaw tightened, his sapphire glaive Calimostria materializing in his hand as he stared at the barrier.
"The spire's protecting the rest of the inhabitants. It's keeping them safe from this… thing. And it's making sure nothing escapes."
Phaenora let out a low whistle, leaning on her glaive as she surveyed the scene.
"Well, that's just peachy. So, we're stuck here with that."
Vastarael exhaled heavily, "Great. Just great. A peaceful morning is clearly too much to ask."
Adelasta, still processing the horror unfolding before her, turned to him.
"What now?"
He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he closed his eyes, his expression shifting from frustration to calmness. When he opened them, they glowed faintly with a sapphire hue.
"I'm going to need help."
And then, without warning, he snapped his fingers.
Adelasta's breath hitched as the air around them warped. Dark, swirling portals began to appear, one after another, all around the spire. From within the portals stepped figures clad in jet-black armor. Each was a Black Knight, their armor reflecting no light, as if they were carved from the void itself. Their movements were precise and disciplined, as they exited the portals and lined up before Vastarael.
But one figure stood out among them. She stepped forward from her portal with a commanding air, her dark, spiked armor adorned with crimson etchings. Her helmet was off, revealing sharp, angular features and piercing crimson eyes that locked onto Vastarael with unwavering loyalty. She knelt before him, her black cape pooling around her like spilled ink.
"Lord Vastarael, Ferris Harrowshard, reporting for duty."
Adelasta gasped, her mind racing as she recognized Ferris from the memories Vastarael had implanted in her. This was the woman knight, the one who had challenged him. And now, she was kneeling before him as if no time had passed at all.
"Ferris," Vastarael said, "we've got a situation. That thing and its minions need to be dealt with. I'm putting you in charge of the knights. Clear out the smaller creatures. The rest of us are going after the big one."
Ferris nodded, rising to her feet in one smooth motion. "As you command, my lord."
Vastarael noticed two female knights kneeling next to Ferris.
"Chainless, Peccavi, it's been a while. How have you been?"
Adelasta saw one of the knights with a helm making hand signs that only he could understand. He smirked when he saw her and slightly chuckled.
"I haven't forgotten about you. But... I'm glad you're still okay. And you, Peccavi?"
The other woman with a helmet giggled, "My Lord, you look radiant as ever. I am glad to see that you are alright."
"Likewise. Well then, let's move out. We have a lot to catch up on."
Adelasta, still reeling from the sheer presence of the Black Knights, glanced at Ferris, then at Vastarael.
"You just… summoned them. They're from your memories, aren't they? They're the knights from before…"
Vastarael turned to her, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips.
"What can I say? I like keeping reliable people around."
Ferris turned her gaze to Adelasta.
"Lady Adelasta," she said, her tone polite but firm. "It is an honor to meet you. Rest assured, Lord Vastarael is in capable hands."
Adelasta blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected acknowledgment.
"Uh… thank you?"
Phaenora, standing off to the side, snickered.
"Looks like the wife is getting all the formalities now. Better get used to it, Adelasta. You're part of the team."
Adelasta sighed, shooting a half-hearted glare at Phaenora. "Right. Part of the team..."
But even as she spoke, she couldn't shake the lingering feeling of inadequacy. These knights had been with Vastarael long before she had entered the Epoch Cycle. They knew him, trusted him, fought for him in ways she couldn't yet comprehend.
Still, as she watched Vastarael step forward, his glaive in hand and his knights rallying behind him, she couldn't help but smile.
And she wasn't about to let him do it alone.