Chapter 17: Flashing Lights

10th Day of the 2nd Fire Cycle, 1995 g.c.

About 820 miles (1,320 Kilometers) south of the hidden Ogre village within the Hedaria Empire lies Colorberg, the sprawling capital city of the Western human empire. It’s a place that exudes a rich mix of medieval grandeur and advanced magic-infused technology, the skyline punctuated with towering spires of marble and crystal, all lit by glowing mana orbs that hang from poles like floating lanterns. From the moment you enter, the air hums with a vibrancy that comes only from a city housing nearly three million souls. Colorberg is a haven for humans seeking fame and fortune, especially as an artist—warriors, mages, and performers from across Gaia converge here to start their journey.

The city itself is surrounded by a towering guard wall, constructed from solid granite blocks reinforced with steel veins, standing watch over the bustling streets. The outer wall glints under the sunlight, its surface pockmarked with the scars of past battles, yet still formidable in its defense. Walking through the city gates, you can feel the pulse of humanity—vendors hawk wares in crowded marketplaces, performers showcase talents on street corners, and the constant chatter fills the air with a life unique to Colorberg. As you wind through the streets, you notice the occasional sociovore—barely 15,000 in the entire city, their presence subtle but significant, mingling amongst humans in an uneasy coexistence.

Let me take a moment to talk about mankind in general. They’re the largest single race on Gaia. You’ll find humans in every corner of the world, adapting to their environments like no other. About 20% of them are active M-Cees, tapping into Mana either through Bio Mana or Gem Mana, depending on their skin tone or innate ability they were born as. Compared to other species, humans might seem physically weaker, but they make up for it in versatility. They’re also notorious for their ability to breed with almost any race—Demi-Humans, Fae, you name it. It’s a curious trait that keeps their numbers high and their influence widespread. Slavery, a bitter mark in their history as well, had started coming to an end within small parts of their Western kingdoms, but the Eastern kingdoms in Arcadia still clung to the practice. In Colorberg, at least, Light Elves no longer bear the scars of bondage, though old prejudices are harder to erase than chains.

But that’s enough of the history lesson. Let’s talk about Krystal Sento.

Krystal’s hurried footsteps echoed sharply against the uneven cobblestone streets of Colorberg, each tapping a frantic drumbeat in the otherwise serene evening. The city, with its colorful buildings and winding alleyways, was typically a place of beauty, but today, it blurred around her in a haze of urgency. The multi-hued glow of twilight reflexing off of enchanted street lamps cast vibrant splashes of light on the path ahead, their magical colors shifting with each passing second, but Krystal barely noticed. All she could think about was getting to Jojo.

"He has awakened."

The message had hit her like a bolt of lightning, jolting her out of her office chair in an instant. Her heart, already strained from the day’s tension, now pounded against her chest like a war drum. She couldn’t help the swirl of emotions coursing through her, a storm of relief, frustration, and—above all—concern.

"To think that he would still worry me to death after evolving," she muttered to herself, shaking her head. Her voice, tinged with exasperation, barely carried over the clatter of her boots. "I thought we were past these days."

The city was alive, even at this late hour. Colorberg was known for its vibrant nightlife, and this evening was no exception. The hum of conversations floated from taverns and cafes, where people enjoyed meals and drinks beneath floating magical lanterns. Mages were selling trinkets from their market stalls, the air filled with the scent of roasted meats, fresh bread, and something sweet and citrusy that teased Krystal’s senses as she sped by. She weaved through the crowd with her head down, her mind lost in a frantic flurry of thoughts about Jojo’s recovery. She could see the towering spires of the Royal Hedaria Hospital in the distance, their shimmering crystal tips piercing the sky like beacons of hope.

But she wasn’t paying attention to the street in front of her.

Krystal collided hard with something—or rather, someone. The impact sent a shockwave through her body, knocking the breath out of her lungs and sending her sprawling to the ground. The world spun for a second as she hit the cobblestones with a painful thud. A sharp jolt shot up her spine as she lay there, stunned, blinking up at the sky. For a brief moment, the street lamps above seemed to swirl in a myriad of colors, like a twisted painting in motion.

"Ah!" she gasped, wincing as the shock ran up her spine.

As she looked up, her gaze was met by a man with pointy ears—a striking figure standing at about 6’2". His fair skin shimmered under the mana-lit streetlights; his braided sand-brown mustache hung down on both sides of his chiseled face, framing a sharp, confident smile. He looked down at her, his piercing cobalt eyes full of amusement behind his circular-framed glasses.

Without hesitation, he extended a strong, calloused hand toward her. "Forgive me, beautiful. I didn’t notice you there," he said, his deep velvet voice like a smooth hum that seemed to linger in the air.

Krystal blinked, momentarily stunned by the sheer size of him. "Oh no, I’m sorry!" she stammered, accepting his hand. "I wasn’t paying attention—I was in a rush..." Her thoughts trailed off as she felt his grip tighten, pulling her to her feet effortlessly.

He practically lifted her into his chest, and for a brief moment, she felt enveloped by the warmth of his presence. His scent hit her all at once—musk, vanilla, and something warm and earthy. It was intoxicating, stirring something within her that made her heart race uncontrollably.

As she regained her balance, she found herself blushing. "Why is my heart beating so fast?" she thought. "Sure, he's handsome... but why does he give me butterflies?" Her thoughts were a mess, a swirl of confusion and unexpected emotions.

"Oh my," she mumbled, barely able to meet his gaze. "Thank you."

The suave gentleman smiled wider, the gleam of his teeth catching the light. "No, thank you," he replied smoothly. "The pleasure of meeting you was clearly all mine. I do hope we cross paths again someday, perhaps when things aren’t so... hectic."

Krystal blinked, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. "R-R-Right... um, yes. I have to—um—I have to get to the hospital. Excuse me." She gave a quick, awkward bow and turned to leave, her mind still racing as she hurried away.

The man didn’t respond, but when Krystal glanced back briefly, she saw him smiling, his glasses catching the sunlight with a mirrored flash. She shook her head, trying to clear the haze from her mind as she refocused on her destination. What the hell was that about? she wondered, still feeling the flutter in her chest. She tucked the strange encounter away in her thoughts as the towering spire of the hospital came into view.

"Focus. Jojo’s awake."

The Royal Hedaria Hospital was a towering structure of mana-infused marble and shimmering glass, its walls glowing faintly with healing energy. Krystal finally reached the entrance, her breath quick from both the run and the encounter. As she approached Jojo’s room, she noticed a pair of healer nurses stepping out, their expressions relieved.

"How is he?" Krystal asked, her voice urgent.

One of the healers, a petite woman with light blue hair, gave a tired but reassuring smile. "He’s fine. Revived by his skill. He’s a little foggy and has a headache, but that’s expected."

Krystal exhaled a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. She nodded her thanks and pushed open the door.

Jojo’s hospital room was dimly lit, with soft light radiating from magic gems embedded in the ceiling and walls. The faint hum of holy mana filled the air, blending seamlessly with the quiet beeps of medieval-tech monitors, etched with glowing runes. The scent of healing herbs hung in the air, a reminder of the magical medicine that worked alongside the tech to keep patients alive. The bed beneath him was made from enchanted steel, reinforced to handle the weight of warriors who often found themselves on the edge of life and death. The Queen’s crest was emblazoned on the sheets—this hospital belonged to her, a blend of ancient and magical technology, a sanctuary for the kingdom’s greatest assets.

Jojo sat shirtless in the middle of it all, his ivory skin marred by thick white bandages that wrapped around his torso. They concealed the wound—right where his heart should have been. His muscles twitched as he shifted in the bed, but there was no denying the exhaustion in his usually sharp brown eyes. His dark hair clung to his forehead, damp from what must have been hours of restless unconsciousness. A former hole the size of a spear still pulsed faintly beneath the bandages, an unsettling reminder of how close he had come to true death.

Krystal’s eyes scanned him, taking in every detail. She noticed how the bandages were stained slightly with dried blood, his body still healing from the life-threatening wound. Yet, despite the grimness of the situation, he was alive—alive and awake. The sight of him sitting there sent a wave of relief crashing through her chest, relaxing the tension she had been carrying. She moved toward him without hesitation, her footsteps light but purposeful against the polished stone floor.

Without thinking, she crossed the room in a few quick strides, her heart pounding. Before Jojo could react, Krystal threw her arms around him, feeling the heat of his body and the steady beat of his heart beneath the layers of cloth. It was hard to believe, after everything, that he was still here.

"Thank The Creator," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She held him tightly, unwilling to let go. "I thought I lost you."

Jojo blinked, still groggy, his mind sluggishly trying to catch up with everything. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice rough from disuse.

Krystal pulled back slightly, enough to look into his face. She could see the confusion etched into his expression, his brow furrowing as he tried to piece together the last few days. "You’ve been dead for three days, Jojo," she said softly, her voice steady but carrying the weight of the words.

His eyes widened, the fog of his memory slowly beginning to lift. "Oh yeah…" He scratched the back of his head absentmindedly, wincing slightly at the motion. "[Miracle Star: Jesus], it has that sub-skill, [He Has Risen]. Takes a while to kick in, but those 180 hours really fly by."

Krystal shook her head in disbelief, a half-laugh escaping her lips. "Easy for you to say, lying in a hospital bed, making everyone worry themselves to death."

Jojo chuckled weakly, the sound raspy but familiar. "Well, technically, I was already dead. So, no worries there."

Krystal rolled her violet-colored eyes, exasperated but unable to suppress the smile tugging at her lips. She ran a hand over her face, shaking her head. "He’s back," she muttered to herself, "his usual self, humor and all."

Jojo’s expression shifted, his playful demeanor fading as her words sank in. His brow furrowed, and his eyes flickered with uncertainty. "How did I die?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly as he spoke, the fear beneath his usual bravado slipping through. He had faced death before, but the uncertainty gnawed at him.

Krystal’s smile faded, her expression darkening as memories of the battle rushed back. She let out a heavy sigh and gripped the edge of Jojo’s bed, the metal cool beneath her fingers.

“It was during the Ogre village assault… one hundred and eighty hours ago,” she began, her voice calm but carrying the weight of the horrors they had witnessed. "You… were touched by an angel."

As she spoke, the sounds of that day echoed in her mind—the clash of steel, the cries of the dying, the overwhelming presence of death. The scent of blood, thick in the air, was impossible to forget. She glanced at Jojo, her eyes softening, knowing that recounting the events wouldn't be easy for either of them.

Flashback:

Three Days Ago, 7th Day of the 2nd Fire Cycle, 1995 g.c.

The Ogre village was chaos. Thick smoke choked the air, rising from burning huts and shattered homes. The battle between Jojo and the Ogre Alpha raged in the heart of the village. Their clashing mana signatures sent shockwaves that rippled through the air, splitting the sky with thunderous force. The Alpha—towering, muscular, and fiercely determined—attacked Jojo, constantly missing every blow.

And then he came.

Taurus.

The Trapper's entrance was a nightmare. One second, the village had been filled with the roars of battle; the next, silence fell like a shroud as the wind itself seemed to hold its breath. Taurus appeared like a shadow in the flickering light of burning buildings, his slimy yellow eyes gleaming with malice. He was tall, well over seven feet, with a cold smirk that twisted his face into something sinister. His double-bladed spear glinted menacingly in the fading sunlight as he observed the destruction, his gaze sharp as a predator watching its prey.

Before Jojo or the Alpha could react, the air around them darkened as Taurus summoned the Watchers. Hundreds of these twisted creatures emerged from the shadows, like an unnatural storm sweeping across the village. Their bodies were grotesque amalgamations of muscular limbs and gray leathery skin, with far too large wings for their misshapen forms. The bony wings, draped in tattered feathers, beat the air in rhythmic pulses as they hovered above the chaos.

Their faces were monstrous—featureless, save for the twin horns that coiled from the sides of their heads like venomous serpents ready to strike. Glowing green, spiraled tusks jutted out from the sides of their mouths, their eerie luminescence casting an otherworldly glow over the blood-soaked battlefield. The worst part—the thing that made Jojo’s stomach twist—was their bright green eyes. Or rather, their lack of eyelids. Instead of normal sockets, the Watchers had smooth, alien-eyed masks lacking any semblance of humanity or empathy.

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The creatures moved in synchronized chaos, descending on the village with a terrifying grace. They tore through homes with the ease of shredding paper, their clawed hands slicing through stone and wood as if it were nothing. Ogres—some of the toughest beings in Arcadia—were reduced to prey, their massive bodies crumpling under the Watchers' savage attacks.

Each time a Watcher claimed a victim, a faint glow of energy pulsed in the air, like a flickering ember, before it was greedily absorbed into the creature’s vile form. It wasn’t just the life they were taking; it was the very essence—the soul—of the Ogres, devoured without hesitation. The twisted, hungry energy they fed on pulsed through the air, thickening the atmosphere with a malevolent force.

Jojo stood frozen, his heart hammering in his chest as he watched entire families of Ogres fall. Their screams cut through the chaos, silenced in mere moments as the Watchers descended upon them. Husbands, wives, and children—all slaughtered and consumed in an instant. Their bodies collapsed like lifeless dolls, drained of vitality and purpose.

“A flood of Watchers… this can’t be happening,” Jojo thought, his throat dry and hands shaking. The ground beneath his feet trembled as the swarm of Watchers continued their relentless assault.

The Ogre Alpha roared in fury, abandoning her battle with Jojo to face this new threat. She lunged toward Taurus, her massive spiked blade aimed directly at his chest. But Taurus… he moved like nothing either of them had ever seen. Before the blink of an eye, the Alpha’s blade met only empty air. Taurus sidestepped with a mocking grin, his eyes dancing with amusement as the Ogre's blow missed him by miles—literally. The force of her missed swing shattered four distant mountains, sending shockwaves through the landscape.

Taurus didn’t give the Alpha time to recover. He was suddenly in front of her, faster than Jojo could process. His leg shot up, striking the Alpha in the stomach with such force that her massive body bent completely around his knee, sending her upward. Before her spine could snap, Taurus brought down both of his bladed gauntlet arms, slamming into the back of her head with brutal precision. The sound of bone cracking echoed through the battlefield.

The Alpha's skull exploded, fragments of bone and blood flying in all directions. Her body was driven into the earth with such force that her feet were left sticking straight up in the air, a gruesome reminder of her defeat.

Jojo felt his blood run cold.

"Holy shit," Jojo thought, his mind racing. "I couldn’t even see his movements."

He took a step back, his instincts screaming at him to flee. Every part of his body, from his pounding heart to the sweat dripping down his back, told him the same thing: run.

“This isn’t good,” Jojo whispered, his voice barely audible over the chaos. “I can’t even feel his mana signature anymore…”

The world around him seemed to dim, the sounds of battle becoming distant echoes. Jojo’s connection to the surrounding mana felt… severed. His senses screamed that something was horribly wrong.

Taurus turned to him, his cold eyes locking onto Jojo’s. "Humans," he said, his voice deep and filled with dark amusement. "It’s been a long time since I’ve seen one of your kind evolve into the Ascended race. Fascinating. Your soul will be a delightful addition to my collection."

Jojo’s throat tightened, but he forced himself to ask, “Heavenly black wings... You're a Trapper, right? What are you doing back on Gaia?”

Taurus’s grin widened, revealing sharp, inhuman teeth. “Gaia?” he chuckled. “This place is nothing more than a livestock farm for us. Mortal races like yours… you’re all just food for your angelic superiors.”

Before Jojo could respond, a bright flash of light streaked toward Taurus—a mana arrow, infused with the essence of angel mana. Krystal had fired it from her vantage point. The arrow whistled through the air, striking Taurus directly in the mouth. For a brief moment, Jojo’s heart soared with hope.

But Taurus simply caught the arrow between his teeth, a cruel smile playing on his lips. He bit down, shattering the arrow as if it were nothing more than a brittle twig. “Angel mana?” Taurus laughed, his voice carrying over the battlefield. “You think that works on an Angel from The Heavens?”

Jojo’s heart sank, his hope dwindling by the second as he reached for his last resort. His mind raced, adrenaline coursing through his veins, panic growing with every breath. "I have to use Dusk," he thought, steeling himself as he summoned his [Spirit Weapon]. The atmosphere around him shifted, shimmering with raw magic, and in an instant, Dusk materialized in his grasp.

The scythe was no ordinary weapon. Towering in Jojo’s hands, its curved blade gleamed with an otherworldly brilliance, radiating deep cobalt light from the runes carved into its surface. The crescent edge shimmered with energy, a faint pulse of mana flowing through it like the steady beat of a heart. The blue flames that curled around the blade crackled with life, shifting from vibrant cobalt to the deep indigo of a twilight sky. The handle, a sleek black metal reinforced with golden accents, hummed with power—lightweight yet impossibly strong, crafted to channel mana with flawless precision.

Jojo’s grip tightened around the scythe, and the sensation of cold steel against his palm grounded him in the moment. The air buzzed with the energy Dusk exuded, the weapon alive with a will of its own, urging Jojo to wield it against the threat before him. Yet despite the scythe’s immense power, an undeniable dread clawed at Jojo’s gut. Even with Dusk in hand, this battle felt insurmountable.

"Krystal!" Jojo’s voice cracked as he shouted, panic seeping through his usual bravado. "Run! You need to get out of here now. This guy… he's too much!"

Before he could finish the warning, Taurus was already upon him. The towering figure again moved with terrifying speed, his fist cutting through the air like a bullet. Jojo barely had time to react. Instinct took over, and he swung Dusk upward, its handle colliding with Taurus’s incoming strike.

The impact was explosive. A shockwave rippled through the battlefield, the force of the collision reverberating through Jojo’s entire body. His arms shook violently, bones rattling as though they might shatter from the sheer power of Taurus’s punch. The scythe held firm, but the effort of blocking such an attack left Jojo breathless, his muscles straining under the pressure.

And then, before he could even process what had happened, Jojo was airborne. Taurus’s blow had launched him into the sky, his body hurtling across the battlefield like a ragdoll. The world became a blur of color and sound as Jojo crashed through the wall of an Ogre house, the stone and timber crumbling around him in a deafening explosion. Dust filled the air, and Jojo's body skidded across the ground, his skin scraped raw by the rough terrain.

He groaned in pain, the ache spreading from his chest down to his legs. Yet, as he lay there, Dusk still gripped tightly in his hand, the scythe’s ethereal glow never wavered. Even in the chaos, its light remained a constant beacon, a reminder that as long as he held it, he still had a chance to survive—no matter how slim.

Jojo’s mind spun, every thought tangled in chaos, as fear wrapped around his heart like a vise. The weight of the situation bore down on him, suffocating, unrelenting.

"I gotta stall... just long enough for Joey and Krystal to escape," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible through the cacophony around him.

His Ultra Skill, [Pain Remains], flared to life, instantly erasing the searing agony he had been enduring. The relief was cold and unsettling, like a false calm before a storm.

Jojo adjusted his grip on his Spirit Weapon. His hand shook, the tremor betraying the immense pressure he was under, but the scythe in his grip buzzed with unholy power. The blade shimmered in the dim light, reflecting a deadly, spectral glow, as if it was thirsting for destruction. Raw mana flowed into it, pooling like a reservoir of untapped chaos. Jojo’s muscles coiled, the scythe responding, ready to unleash its fury.

“Hey! It's time to clock out!” Jojo yelled, his voice sharp with desperation, cutting through the deafening roars of battle.

The words weren’t for Taurus—they were a warning for Krystal, a desperate push to make her run. But Krystal hesitated, her wide, terrified eyes locked on Jojo. The silent plea in her gaze only steeled Jojo’s resolve.

He couldn’t let his team die.

With a fierce focus, Jojo fixed his sights on Taurus, gripping Dusk tighter. Gem Mana surged from within his rings; pouring into the blade and turning it into a vessel of unimaginable power. The weight of the energy he was wielding was enough to easily wipe out a large city—he could feel it vibrating through his bones, the sheer destructive force barely contained. Every muscle screamed, the air itself warping as the mana gathered, crackling around him.

Then, he moved.

The Ascended Human sprinted forward, his legs pushing against the ground with all his might. The scythe arced upward, glowing fiercely, the tip leaving a trail of burning mana in its wake. Time seemed to slow as he swung with everything he had. The blade collided with Taurus in a massive explosion of light and sound.

The detonation was deafening, a shockwave erupted from the point of impact, ripping through the village with the force of a natural disaster. Buildings disintegrated into dust, the ground itself buckling under the sheer pressure. Every living thing within the blast radius was obliterated—nothing remained but devastation. The once-bustling village had been leveled, reduced to smoldering ruins in the blink of an eye.

And yet, Jojo’s heart froze.

As the dust and debris slowly settled, the monstrous silhouette of Taurus emerged—completely unscathed. His double-bladed glaive was raised, effortlessly blocking the full brunt of Jojo’s assault. Not a scratch. Not even a dent.

Taurus stared at Jojo with casual indifference, his voice dripping with boredom. "I fought someone like you a decade ago," he said flatly, his eyes dead of any emotion. "You lower realm mortals never learn."

Before Jojo could even blink, the ground beneath his feet shifted. The earth, twisted by Taurus’s magic, lurched violently, launching Jojo high into the air. His stomach flipped, weightless in the sudden, brutal ascent. He barely had time to register what was happening before Taurus hurled his spear.

It came at him with terrifying speed—faster than thought. Jojo swung Dusk to block it, but the spear hit with a force so overwhelming that it shattered the scythe. The jagged remnants of the blade splintered into pieces, and the spear pierced through Jojo’s torso like a hot knife through butter.

The pain was unimaginable.

His chest exploded with agony as the spear tore through his lung, then his heart. Blood poured from the wound, thick and warm, soaking through his armor. His vision blurred, the world dimming as darkness crept in at the edges. Krystal’s scream reached him, distant and echoing, but the words were lost as his mind began to drift.

"Jojo!" Her voice was raw, broken; the sound of someone watching the person they care for slip away.

But before the darkness could fully claim him, a blur of motion cut through the air. Joey appeared, his body wreathed in the sharp winds of [Wind Mana Arts: Flash Step]. In an instant, he was there, catching Jojo’s limp form mid-air. The wind howled around them as Joey vanished, reappearing beside Krystal, the two of them staring down at Jojo’s fading body with horror.

Taurus, meanwhile, stood unharmed, his expression unreadable. He let out a heavy sigh, clearly disinterested in the aftermath of his devastation. Then, as if summoned, a telepathic message drew his attention. His face twisted with mild irritation, but he shrugged it off.

"Another time, humans," Taurus muttered. With a lazy snap of his fingers, the remaining Watchers dissolved into summoning portals. His smirk was the last thing Jojo saw before Taurus vanished, leaving behind only ruin—and the fleeting life of a dying hero.

End of Flashback:

20 minutes later, 10th Day of the 2nd Fire Cycle, 1995 g.c.

The memories of the battle still hung heavy in Jojo's eyes as Krystal began to speak, pulling him out of the painful flashback and back into the present. Her voice rang against the sound of the outside world pouring in through the open window.

"We got you back to King City as fast as we could, Jojo," Krystal said, her voice soft but steady. She had a way of grounding people, even when the world felt like it was collapsing. "Joey carried your body the entire way. And when the Queen heard... well, she didn’t waste any time. She sent for the Royal Priest immediately. Made sure they did everything they could for you."

Jojo nodded slowly, his hand subconsciously touching his chest, right where the spear had torn through him. He could still feel the phantom pain, but it was a miracle he was even alive. His lips curled into a small, tired smile.

"Guess I have [Unrequited Luck] to thank for that one, huh?" There was a brief pause, then he chuckled, though there was an edge to it. "I mean, how many people walk away after getting their heart skewered like that?"

Krystal gave him a weak smile, her eyes softening for a moment. "Not many, Jojo. Your luck is one of a kind."

"Speaking of one of a kind..." Jojo leaned back, his grin growing wider as he stretched his sore limbs. "The Queen. She’s still in love with me, isn’t she?"

Krystal snorted, shaking her head. "Feeling yourself, much?" But there was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "But yeah, she’s got it bad. You should’ve seen her when we brought you in. Practically had the whole city mobilized to make sure you were taken care of."

Jojo’s grin turned more thoughtful, his gaze drifting. "I’m not ready to settle down yet. Can’t blame her, though." His tone was light, almost playful, but there was a hint of something deeper beneath it—something unresolved.

Krystal shifted, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe. "Joey’s out on a recon mission for the Queen. He’ll be back in a week, give or take." She paused, then added, "But the Queen wants to talk to you about the Trapper we encountered. Taurus."

Jojo's face darkened at the mention of Taurus. That name still sent a chill down his spine. He sat up a little straighter, his mind replaying the battle, the overwhelming force, the spear piercing his heart. The dread instantly appeared upon his face.

"Yeah, I figured she’d want to discuss that bastard. The future’s looking rough, Krystal. Shit's going to get real bad." His voice dropped, filled with a quiet intensity. "I felt something else out there. Another dark and powerful mana signature… one that was way too intense to ignore. The monsters might be planning something big. Another Demon Lord, maybe."

Krystal’s brow furrowed as she straightened up, her expression turning serious. "Another Demon Lord?" She hesitated before asking, "Are the Demon Lords really too much for you to handle? Or for the Church of Holy Madness? They’ve still got Kneon Sky locked up, don’t they? He’s supposed to be one of the strongest Demon Lords out there."

Jojo ran a hand through his hair, his face etched with frustration. "I once thought so, but after fighting Taurus? It’s clear things are changing on Gaia." He sighed, his voice growing heavier with each word. "We need to get stronger. All of us. If we don’t... we won’t survive what’s coming."

Krystal was silent for a moment, her gaze dropping as if the weight of his words had sunk in fully. Then, with a small sigh, she reached into her bag and pulled out a familiar-looking bottle, tossing it to Jojo. "Here. Thought you might want this."

Jojo caught the bottle mid-air and examined it, recognizing it instantly. The Braye wine bottle he had emptied long ago. He looked up at her with a raised brow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Really, Krystal? Braye wine?"

"Don’t get too excited," she quipped, crossing her arms. "It’s just water. Someone already drank all the wine."

Jojo clicked his tongue in mock disappointment, though his grin didn’t fade. "Well, that’s just cruel." He uncorked the bottle and took a swig, confirming her claim. Only water. "But hey, a promise is a promise."

Without hesitation, he swiftly activated his sub-skill, [Faith’s Miracle], with a subtle, almost invisible shimmer of mana flowing through his fingers. He took a deep breath and closed the bottle, giving it a slight shake before tossing it back to her.

"Thanks," he said with a wink.

Krystal caught the bottle, not thinking much of it as she turned to leave. "You're welcome," she muttered, half under her breath, clearly noticing nothing special. But as she walked a few steps away, she lifted the bottle to her lips and took a swig. Her eyes widened, and she froze mid-step.

Wine. It was Braye wine again.

She turned slightly, glancing over her shoulder at Jojo, who was reclining with that innocent grin plastered across his face. "Damn it, when did you..." she muttered, barely audible, but there was no malice in her tone. "You really did fix it!"

Jojo gave her a lazy salute, his smile softening as he watched her walk away. "Goodnight, Krystal. Rest up. We’ve got a lot to deal with when Joey gets back."

Krystal didn’t turn around, but her hand tightened around the bottle as she continued walking. She whispered a quiet thanks to The Creator, grateful for Jojo’s leadership, his strength, and his unshakable resolve—even in the face of an uncertain future.

The door closed softly behind her, and Jojo lay back, staring up at the ceiling, his mind swirling with thoughts of Taurus, the Hedarian Queen, and the looming threat of another Demon Lord. But for now, in the quiet of his room, he allowed himself a moment of peace, a moment to breathe, knowing that the battles ahead would require everything he had.

And for now, that was enough... Even if his mind wouldn't let him truly rest for long with everything weighing on him.

"A big change is coming."

[End of Chapter]