The heavy quartz gates of the 9th District ground closed behind us, the shimmering violet barrier snapping back into place like a modern security grid. The intense, high-alert atmosphere of the royal sector immediately faded, replaced by the familiar, bustling sounds of the upper capital districts.
As we stepped onto the main thoroughfare, Nautilus Cotton came to a smooth halt. He straightened the cuffs of his immaculate waistcoat and turned to face us, a relaxed, highly respected smile replacing his earlier corporate tension.
"Elias, Elicia, and Eirene, My temporary shift at the Bureau desk is officially over, and the high-tier files are secure. I am leaving right now to head back to the Caria Mastery Academy. There are several hundred student registries that require my signature before tomorrow's casting trials." Nautilus said, giving us a polite, administrative nod.
Elicia let out a soft, sympathetic sigh, her shoulders dropping as she adjusted the hem of her cute dress.
"Well, it is also incredibly tiring to become a principal, Nautilus, Between the curriculum budgets and the high-tier mana accidents, I guess we are entirely on the same page. Get some rest." she said with a knowing, sisterly chuckle, thinking of her own grueling administrative duties over at the Sisiphon Magic Academy.
"Likewise, Principal Elicia," Nautilus replied smoothly. With a final, respectful tip of his head toward my cloaked figure, he turned on his heel and walked down the avenue, his silhouette blending effortlessly into the crowds of academic scholars.
By the time we navigated through the 8th District and reached the border of the 7th District entertainment sector, the sky above Caria had begun to shift. The harsh, burning glare of the midday sun was finally bleeding into a brilliant canvas of deep amber, bruised purple, and soft crimson. The sun was about to set.
A profound sense of liberation washed over my vampiric core. Thanks to the absolute, unassailable authority of the King and Queen's sovereign decree tucked safely beneath my dress, the legal and social threats had turned to ash; the public would no longer view me as a heretical demon to be hunted down by guild paladins.
As the final golden rays of sunlight faded completely behind the distant mountain peaks, the cool, soothing twilight of the evening rolled in. The allergic stinging against my pale skin vanished entirely.
I stopped right in the middle of the wide, cobblestone plaza. With a slow, deliberate movement of my newly regenerated left hand, I unclasped the heavy iron buckle of my dark traveling cloak and let the tattered fabric slide completely off my shoulders, exposing my silver hair to the evening breeze.
Without the restriction of the heavy cloth, the dense, powerful muscles along my spine expanded. My massive, translucent crimson blood wings violently unfurled to their full, magnificent span. The crystalline veins within the membranes pulsed with a fierce, beautiful jade-green and scarlet mana, casting a haunting, ethereal glow across the street.
The passing citizens, lower-ranking knights, and merchants instantly froze, their eyes widening in sheer astonishment. But there were no screams of terror, no weapons being drawn, and no panic. They saw the royal golden seal humming with divine energy right at my waist, and they saw the elite Luminous Knight captain standing proudly by my side. For the very first time in my life, I stood in the open air of the capital, my true, altered form completely bare to the public… not as a hidden monster in a cellar, but as the sanctioned Vanguard of the Crown.
Elias looked around at the bustling crowd in the plaza, watching how the citizens merely stared in awe rather than running for the guard houses. A small, rare smile cracked through his usually edgy, stoic expression. He crossed his arms over his leather duster, his dark eyes softening as he looked down at my glowing crimson wings.
"I guess the news spreads quickly, It's only been a minute since we left the throne room, but now, you're not a demon anymore, little sister. In the eyes of this kingdom, you're finally a human." Elias murmured, his voice full of pride.
A quiet wave of relief washed over my processing core.
"Thanks, Elias," I said, my voice maintaining its deadpan calm, though the heavy weight that had rested on my shoulders for months had finally dissolved.
We officially left the boundary of the 9th District behind, stepping back onto the wide white marble tiles of the 8th District. As we walked past the pristine pillars of the Capital Knights Bureau Association, Elias suddenly froze in his tracks. His eyes widened slightly beneath his messy dark hair.
"Oh yeah, I completely forgot."
Without warning, Elias tapped into his advanced mana core. He extended his right hand, and a ripple of pitch-black static violently tore through the space right in front of him. With a quiet hum, his dark magic activated his Shadow Vault… an elite pocket dimension very similar to the storage capabilities of my own inventory ring. A small, swirling void of pure midnight opened midair. Elias reached his arm straight into the darkness up to his elbow, rummaging around for a second before his fingers wrapped around a familiar, heavy steel handle.
With a sharp clank, he pulled the object out of the void and the shadow hole snapped shut.
It was my signature weapon… the massive, brutal, and beautifully engineered Death Chant Shotgun, affectionately named Means of Communication. It was still spotless, perfectly maintained, and heavy with lethal kinetic potential. Elias turned and held the massive firearm out to me with a smirk.
My mismatched jade-green and crimson eyes widened in genuine surprise behind my silver hair. I reached out with my newly regenerated left hand, my fingers wrapping perfectly around the familiar stock, the weight of it grounding me instantly.
"Woah, Thank you, big brother. I thought I lost it back in the dunes." I breathed, looking up at him.
"Please, You think I'd leave the Crimson Phantom's favorite piece of iron lying around for some low-tier scavenger to find? I fetched it the second we cleared the battlefield. A girl needs her proper means of communication, especially now that you have a little one to protect." Elias chuckled, turning to continue our walk down the marble avenue.
Elias stared at the matte-black barrel of the heavy firearm, his eyes tracing the microscopic, glowing purple runes etched into the chamber.
"It's quite a weapon you got there, A Death Chant Shotgun... one of the eight legendary Death Chant artifacts forged during the early calamity eras. This is literally the sister weapon of my own revolver. The mana signatures are practically mirroring each other. Where on earth did you get it? Did the Bureau secretly gift you this from the high-security vaults?" he said, his voice dropping into that low, appreciative tone reserved for master-crafted military gear.
I hoisted Means of Communication onto my shoulder, the familiar weight settling comfortably against my dress as my crimson wings gave a relaxed flare in the cool twilight.
"No, I got it during my bounty hunter operations in the outer sectors. I remember it vividly. While I was disguising myself as a low-tier apprentice to Oksana the drug lord to map out her distribution lines, she gave me this very weapon as a reward for a successful smuggling run. She had no idea it was a legendary artifact, and she certainly didn't know that it was the very same weapon that would blow her head off three weeks later."
I replied, my voice returning to its characteristic, mechanical deadpan as we continued our march through the marble plazas.
Elias let out a sharp, booming laugh that echoed off the white quartz pillars of the 8th District.
"Poetic justice. I love it."
Then, his expression shifted, his gaze drifting down toward the specialized sheath clipped to my waist where my secondary weapon rested.
"And your bayonet... I read the internal post-action reports from the central archive. The records state you used it to completely execute a fallen angel during the border skirmishes. That blade is absurdly powerful. A Mist Blade that can literally phase through physical armor and high-tier defensive barriers to strike directly into the target's flesh. And that secondary trait... the Lifeline Curse that instantly decreases any form of incoming regeneration or healing by 70%. Honestly, Eirene, when I read those files, I didn't realize I was practically stabbed by my own sister out there in the dunes."
My processing core immediately flickered, recalling the violent, dust-choked memory of our brutal clash in the desert just days prior. Back then, under the scorching sun, we had fought as complete strangers… the Luminous Captain versus the feared Crimson Phantom. I remembered the exact tactical calculations I had run in my head during that duel. My objective had never been to murder him; my entire plan had been to utilize the phasing properties of the Mist Blade to slip past his dark magic shields, bypass his vital organs, and deliver a concentrated paralytic strike to knock him completely unconscious so I could escape.
"I am sorry about that, I was planning to knock you, but your crows tore a hole at me." I muttered softly, my mismatched jade-green and crimson eyes looking down at the marble tiles.
Elias simply grinned, waving his leather-gloved hand through the air as he shrugged it off with absolute, casual indifference.
"Please, little sister, don't apologize. It was a completely fair fight. You outmaneuvered my vanguard, and frankly, if I can't handle a high-tier ambush in the field, I have no business wearing a captain's duster. If anything, I'm just proud my little sister can swing a blade that efficiently."
As our conversation trailed off, the grand white marble architecture of the outer plaza gave way to the towering, shadowy stone arches of the primary exit gates leading out of the 8th District. The twilight had deepened, casting long, dramatic shadows across the pavement.
Suddenly, my high-tier Phase 5 sensing arrays picked up a very specific, incredibly familiar mana signature waiting right by the heavy iron framework.
Standing in the dim illumination of the guard post was a girl with rich brown hair that cascaded down her shoulders, the tips of her locks glowing with a soft, distinct bioluminescent radiance that pulsed gently in the dark. She was leaning casually against the stone pillar, deeply engaged in a quiet, familiar conversation with Gatekeeper Damien, who was nodding respectfully as she spoke.
My breath caught in my throat, my silver hair shifting as I stared through the gloom. It was Evelyn.