Head held high, Butter strode forward, her fan stretched wide in her hand, a shockwave of golden light pulsing from its edge, rolling outward like the sun breaking the horizon after a dark, endless night. The radiant wave spread across the field, pushing back against the crimson mist that coiled above, the higher entity lashing out in fury.

But even as the ominous cloud roared, spitting bolts of blood-red energy, the barrier of life held steady, radiating a serenity that hushed the battlefield into stillness. The Eye of Utelira shone at her bust, her frame shining with glory.

With every step she took forward, the weight of her authority pressing down on the battlefield, her aquamarine eyes gleaming with challenge.

“Fools?” she repeated, a light chuckle rolling through her as she approached the gate, White and Mike coming into sight. “Triumphant is what the universe sings in my presence.”

The shriek of the creature above cried out as it struck the golden clouds that formed a sanctuary above, swirling with threads of silver and gold, each thunderous rumble an oath of protection, while vibrant bolts of life-bound energy crackled against the crimson mist.

Waves of light kept it disrupted in their world, trapping it between the vice of dimensional walls. The gates creaked open, revealing a vast sea of the undead clawing their way from the ground, dirt and bones scattering as tens of thousands of lifeless figures rose to the call of the crimson entity above.

And yet, a stillness settled upon them. White and Mika stood just beyond the gates, their gazes unwavering as they watched her step forth, a hundred lifeless corpses lying at their feet, frozen in mid-attack, encased in an ethereal white aura that held them back—not in threat, but in reverence to the radiant figure crossing the threshold.

“Allow me to show you the face of Conquest. La gloire royale m’enchâsse.”

As Butter moved forward, the Susime death cult members fell to their knees, bowing in silent awe as the power trapped deep within her core bloomed outward in a spiraling display. Their heads lowered as she passed, the pulsing light rippled out from her, calming the storm within them. It was as if each pulse of golden energy washed away their fears, their doubts, spreading a peace that stilled even the trembling ground beneath them, inspiring.

“Crowned in glory…fear no more, for the Evening Star is upon you.”

The heavens above responded, a deep, resonant hum rolling through the stilled air, as if nature itself recognized her command. With each step, the sky above answered her presence. Massive effulgent clouds gathered to her projected power, drawn out through the Eye of Utelira, twisting and thickening until they formed a counter force against the crimson entity’s influence.

“La gloire royale. Forever may I reign.”

A fortress of storm and radiance encircled the field, containing the bloody mist in its swirling grasp. Thunder rumbled within the clouds, a deep, resonant sound that reverberated through the air, carrying the promise of cleansing rain, pressing in on the undead entity, stifling its enslaved, mindless cries.

Thick bolts of lightning flashed, illuminating the field in stark relief, casting long shadows that flickered as she continued to advance to overlook the undead throng awaiting her introduction. Standing before this grand display, the Third Finger hovered above on his mount, paralyzed at the raw display of power that countered his bone-chilling cry of death.

Glowing eyes turning skyward, the shimmering liquid began to fall to the ground, bringing new life to the barren valley. Her intense stare fixated on the shaken cult upstart.

“Forever…may I reign.”

She lifted her fan, and spread it out, the jewels on her staff brightening, and with a single, elegant gesture, directed the clouds to tighten. The forming spiral dome of radiant, living energy wrapped around the bloody mist, confining it like a beast in a cage. Her aquamarine eyes gleamed with a quiet confidence, an unspoken challenge that dared the crimson entity to strike high royalty.

“You can struggle all you like, darling… Under my will, all will bow.” A pulse of malevolent energy shot down from the mist, thick tendrils of death, but it evaporated long before reaching her. Butter tilted her head, a slight smile playing on her lips. “Recognize the will of the high heavens. Understand who you stand before.”

And standing upon the opening on the gate of the fortress, overlooking a sea of undeath, she turned her imperial stare upon the masses of reanimated corpses. Rays of glorious light beamed from the clouds above, her arm lowering. Nungal’s valuable lesson welled up within her.

“Bow,” she declared, her voice as steady as the mountains and twice as resolute.

The very atmosphere bent to her will and golden vines of pure Life Force wove themselves through the stones at her feet, crawling toward the undead army like fingers reaching through the soil. In the light of the clouds above, glowing with an intense light that blazed through the crimson mist, casting it in sharp relief as if under the unforgiving scrutiny of the sun itself—it began to turn white.

Stolen story; please report.

“Impossible,” the Third Finger mumbled from above. “You are not the Radiant Eminence…but something more.”

Cleansing water patterned against the ground in a gentle rhythm, every drop sparking life into Butter, drawing her closer to the right of power she’d held before this life: the power of Ashrit. Skin gleaming against the holy rays singing her praise, Butter watched in delight and fascination as every undead creature below, tens of thousands, bent the knee, not purified, but reforged in her name…forged in life.

Her voice rang out across the valley, the Life Cult’s barrier being absorbed into her manifestation of strength that surged out of her like a cracked dam.

“Souls of the lost and abandoned. Hear me and rise once more.” Her smile warmed as warm liquid ran down her face and body, plant life, dead animals, and insects blooming with new life as she exercised a power that felt as natural as breath itself. “Return not as the undead, but reborn in life through my command. Your high queen demands it.”

Flesh renewed on exposed bone and muscle, ri’bot and many other creatures raised their heads toward her, a rippling surge of recognition and faith budding in each spirit, souls renewed.

Snow stumbled forward in awe, White, Mika, and Adoncia looking down at themselves as their souls evolved, bathed in her unique energy: not dead, yet not alive, but something in-between Elinor and her. Immortal.

“What…is this?”

Butter’s smiling eyes lifted to the heavens once more, where the crimson entity glowed white, fading back into its higher sphere, bowing before her. “The birth of an Army of Conquest… My army.”

She turned to smile at the Fable of Snow White, her soul glowing brighter than ever as her refining glory washed over her, imbuing her with the strength of her faith. “So long as you have faith in me, as a friend or ruler, you will have my power to support you.”

Shaky knees unable to support her, Snow dropped to her knees, her appearance, already lovely, was enhanced to supernatural degrees. Her hair became black as the abyss, her eyes bright as a blue star, and her skin glowed to perfection. White, Mika, and Adoncia changed, as well, undergoing a metamorphosis.

All Susime, excluding the Third Finger hovering above, now bowed before her, the pulsing belief of the Cult of Life filling her with warm fuzzies.

The air itself seemed to vibrate, syncing with her will as her radiant soul emanated with an authority none could deny. The released entity of death, cleansed of Seg’tharis’ corrupting force, bowed before fading back into its higher realm, recognizing the all-encompassing dominance she demanded.

Now, the sole figure above her golden clouds had her gaze amidst the glittering falling droplets of holy life, lightning dancing for her. Her last opposition stared down in disbelief, his army conquered with a single flick of her wrist, unable to comprehend her power, as if worship was the only possible response to her brilliance.

“You see why I was chosen. You see what I represent… What say you, Third Finger of Seg’tharis? Do you submit willingly, or must I bind you in chains?”

Wind and water joined in a tumultuous dance, shifting at her command, twisting around her like an obedient pet. She pointed the fan toward the skies, and the clouds gathered in swirling shades of gold and silver, answering her call with the rumble of thunder. Lightning flashed, illuminating her face, a divine fury tempered with the thrill of power.

“Come closer, darling,” she taunted, voice dripping with mirth. “Show me what Seg’tharis’ power can do against the Heavenly Conqueror.”

Fear etched in his voice, the ri’bot resisted, withdrawing the Orb of Seg’tharis and moving higher to escape the rising tempest. “You are everything I fight against… The Supreme Chief of Life. I am Jet’tara, Holder of the Eye. You have won this battle, but soon my lord will rise to devour that life you flaunt.”

“Is that all? Really, darling, I expected more.” Butter huffed as his undead skydarter carried him beyond sight. “Coward. And here I was hoping you’d have a little bit of grit and allow me to blow off some steam… At least he may provide some form of entertainment later.”

She gave a theatrical sigh as White was instantly by her side, Snow shakily rising to her feet as the others joined her. Butter tapped her cane against the pulsing ground, the sound echoing in defiant delight as she gazed across the expanse, greenery and new rivers forming, cracking up from beneath the soil to fuel the renewed valley.

Snow squinted at the pendant at her bust before meeting her eyes. “What now… Do we save Earth? High Queen…” Snow’s eyes widened as they all shifted to their side to stare at the cube, now materialized and roughly fifteen meters in width and dimension. Only, its color had changed from a pinkish hue to light green, making. “That color…means it’s the weakest rank.”

Butter’s frame shook with mirth while turning away from it to stare at the throng awaiting her address. Her pearly teeth flashed, excitement welling up within her breast as the thunderous shouts of her name rang across the heartland.

Irida gracefully walked forward to meet her, Nergath and the other Fingers behind the Head of the Cult of Life. Yet, a change had come over them in the light rain that fell over the valley. Restored to their golden-hued glory and youth, tens of thousands of soldiers awaited her command.

“What now?” Butter repeated, her illuminated eyes rising to the Crystal gateway descending from the heavens as if awaiting this very moment, surrounded by her glorious aurelian clouds. “Now, we go to war. Lokar, your horn.”

The humbled First Finger of the Left presented his horn, and Butter’s caressed the hollowed out horn of some mountain animal. It turned to gold, glowing with the power she’d infused into it through the Eye of Utelira.

Once finished, her smile grew as he held it to his lips and blew. The uniquely crafted item released a low, amplified pulse that vibrated the earth and atmosphere that resonated with the roars of her newly founded army.

Stepping forward through the cascading rain, with rainbows bursting like celestial bridges across the valley, Butter lifted her fan high toward the descending Crystal amidst the dazzling drizzle. Her voice rang out, commanding and radiant, “Behold, the path to glory and untold riches awaits us! Remember, my faithful—let positivity be our banner. You are the chosen soldiers of heaven. Onward, to conquest and eternal splendor!”