In an estate far to the east, just beyond the borders of the Anterthon Kingdom, a grand mansion loomed in isolation. Its ornate design and sprawling grounds hinted at noble residence, but beneath its elegant facade lay the true nature of its occupants—a secret gathering of the Nether Clan.

The estate was heavily guarded, its gates manned by sentinels who allowed entry only those carrying an invitation or bearing the authority of a Pillar of the Nether Clan.

A black carriage rolled up to the gate. Inside, the masked figure who had accompanied Lust on their recent mission in Anterthon peered out of the window.

As the carriage came to a stop, a guard approached, his demeanor stern.

“Your invitation, sir”, the guard said, his voice firm but respectful.

The masked figure reached into his pocket, retrieving a small, intricately carved totem—a symbol of authority unique to the Pillar of Lust. Without a word, he held it out for the guard to see.

The guard's eyes widened slightly at the sight of the totem. He straightened immediately, bowing deeply. “My deep apologies, representative of the Archpillar,” he said quickly. With a sharp gesture, he ordered the gate to be opened.

The masked figure tucked the totem back into his chest pocket, leaning back as the carriage began to move through the gates. He carried the weight of authority reluctantly, representing the Pillar of Lust in her absence.

Ever since Lust, their Archpillar, had been gravely injured during the confrontation in Atherton, he had temporarily taken on her responsibilities. Though he had managed to save her and escape, the encounter weighed heavily on him.

The fact that someone—especially a child—had injured one of the Archpillar could only mean one thing: a dangerous being had been born in Anterthon.

The thought lingered, unsettling and infuriating. As the carriage continued its journey through the estate, his resolve hardened.

I must report this to the Archpillars.

He entered the grand house and made his way to the central chamber, a large room dominated by a circular table with seven imposing chairs. Each chair bore the insignia of the Nether Clan's pillars, marking their place in this shadowed hierarchy.

As he stepped inside, his eyes landed on the masked figure seated casually, a wolf motif adorning his upper face.

“Ah, f*** Nero!” the man growled, slamming his fist on the table. “That meddling b*****d always gets in my way! Every time I try to deal with those f***ing successors, he shows up!”

“Wrath, watch your language,” came a low, deliberate voice. Another masked figure sat across from him, a bear motif on his mask, exuding an aura of lazy calm.

“Shut up, Sloth!” Wrath snapped, his anger slipping over. “You haven't done a damn thing in years because of your lazy a**!”

Sloth didn't even flinch. He leaned back in his chair, resting his chin in hand, completely indifferent to Wrath's outburst.

The man representing Lust's pillar hesitated near the entrance, unsure of where to place himself. This was supposed to be a private meeting of the Arch Lords, but with Lust unable to attend, he had been forced to take her place.

Holding the totem close to his chest, he kept his posture submissive, knowing full well he didn't belong here.

“What are you doing here?” a cold voice cut through the tension.

The man turned quickly, bowing low as his gaze fell on the figure who had just entered. The magpie mask gleamed in the dim light—Arch Greed.

The other two Arch Lords turned their attention to him, their gazes heavy.

“My Arch Lords,” he began, his voice steady despite his nerves. “The Archpillar of Lust is unable to attend due to… pressing matters. I am here as her representative.” He stepped forward, holding out the ornate box he'd carried since his arrival.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Greed's eyes narrowed as his gaze lingered on the ornate box. There was a glint of hunger in his expression, as though he were staring at the most valuable treasure he'd ever seen. “Mind if I take a look?” he asked, his voice dripping with curiosity.

He reached out and opened the lid, but before he could fully lift it, a hand slammed it shut with startling force.

The masked man flinched and turned to see who had intervened. A man wearing a lion mask stood beside them, his imposing presence commanded immediate action.

“My apologies, My Lord,” Greed said quickly, bowing his head with a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “I couldn't resist.”

The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. Wrath and Sloth, who had been bickering moments ago, straightened and bowed deeply. The air grew heavy with reverence.

Arch Pride—the leader of the Nether Clan's Pillars—had arrived.

The masked man stiffened, his breath catching in his throat. He had never seen the Arch Price in person before. The lion-masked figure exuded authority, yet he was younger than the man had expected, his movements sharp and deliberate.

Pride walked calmly to his chair, his every step carrying weight. Greed followed suit, taking his seat without another word.

Pride's gaze fell on the masked man, his tone commanding as he spoke. “Sit,” he ordered, gesturing toward Lust's chair.

The masked man hesitated for only a moment before moving towards the Archpillar's seat. Before sitting, he carefully placed the box on the table and bowed low. “My Arch Lord,” he began, his voice steady but respectful. “This is what the Archpillar of Lust has harvested this year. Most of it comes from the Elementless in Anterthon.”

With a nod of Pride, the masked man opened the box, revealing a shimmering, concentrated orb of materialized pnevma.

The room fell silent as all eyes locked onto the glowing sphere. The sheer potency of the pnevma inside seemed to hum in the air. Pride leaned forward slightly, his unreadable gaze fixed on the orb.

“Impressive,” Pride murmured, his voice calm but carrying an undertone of expectation. “Lust has been… productive.”

The masked man lowered his head again, unsure whether to feel relief or dread at the leader's response. Pride's attention lingered on the orb for the moment before he leaned back, his gaze shifting to the rest of the Pillars.

“Gluttony is expected to be absent,” Pride began. “However, he has reported that our plan to destabilize the Tree of Life has failed".

Wrath's first slammed onto the table, his growl echoing in the chamber. “Is it that f***ing Nero again? Even with his magic sealed, that pest still finds a way to infest our plans!”

Pride's gaze remained calm. “What's more interesting is that fire magic has awakened… and they've managed to restore the Tree of Life to its prime state.”

The room fell into stunned silence. Even the masked man, who had already heard the rumors circulating through Anterthon, felt the weight of Pride's words settle like a heavy fog.

Greed leaned forward, his voice dripping with incredulity. “So… Envy's sacrifice ten years ago to extinguish the Ultimate Fire was for nothing?”

Pride's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. “Not entirely. He's a mortal who has only recently awakened the fire. He hasn't mastered its full power yet, nor has he passed it on to anyone.”

Wrath sneered, his impatience evident. “And how long do you think that will last? He's still a threat, mortal or not.

“I've already instructed Gluttony to weaken the Ultimate Fire,” Pride replied smoothly, his tone unshaken. “It won't be long before we control the situation again.”

The masked man hesitated for a moment before speaking. “My Arch Lords, there is something else I must report. Another individual wielded the fire… and he's the reason the Archpillar of Lust isn't here today.”

The room grew still, the other Archpillars exchanging curious and suspicious glances.

Wrath was the first to react, a sneer tugging at his lips. “Someone strong enough to injure Lust? Let me guess—another successor?”

The masked man shook his head. “No, my Arch Lord. It wasn't a successor… it was a child.”

Wrath froze for a moment, his sneer giving away to disbelief before he erupted into mocking laughter. “A f***ing kid? A child managed to injure Lust? As expected, she's the weakest among us!”

A masked man swallowed but pressed on. “This wasn't just any child, my Arch Lord. The fire he wields is unlike anything I've seen. The flames are blue.”

Pride, who had been seated with his usual casual composure, stood slowly, his attention fixed entirely on the masked man.

“Blue flames?” Pride repeated his voice dangerously quiet. His expression shifted, a calculating look replacing his usual aloofness.

The masked man nodded quickly, bowing his head. “Yes, my Arch Lord. During the battle with Lust, he used them.”

Pride's gaze hardened, and after a moment of silence, he let out a sharp laugh.

The other Archpillars exchanged wary glances, but no one dared to interrupt. Pride turned his piercing gaze back to the masked man. “Find everything you can about this child,” he commanded, his voice cold and resolute. “I want his name, his origin, and his connection. Everything.”

The masked man bowed deeply. “As you command, my Arch Lord.”

Pride's lips curled into a cold smile. “Good. Bring me his location as soon as possible.” His tone dropped, laced with venom. “I want to see him for myself”