The world reeled against the ruinous impact, the people tumbling in unrest, falling over one another before running in a mad scramble, despite there being no space for it. The ward Mum implemented around us saved me from the brunt of the devastating force, though it made me aware of how fragile my form was even after achieving Noble Class. It also revealed that the protective barrier of the sacrarium had failed.

One side of the octagonal sphere behind us shattered, opening a gaping hole large enough for all the monsters to pass through without difficulty. The formation column crumbled in half, sending shards of gleaming stones that unfortunately injured a few people.

However, what would hurt them even worse was its broken state.

"Mum?" I called, voice raspy. "What was that?"

"I'm here," she said, as she stood up, clutching me. She kept me in her arms, turning her gaze towards the pitch-black sky. The wind seemed to hold its breath, and so did the swarm of flies, obscuring the ugly face of the moon.

Among the mass of repulsive bat-like creatures flew a humanoid figure with two bony white wings on its back. They did not flap, yet it still floated with complete control. It looked mostly human, save for the wings, but more significantly, it came straight towards us.

Mum stood firm, shielding me completely. Essence threads and runic chains sprang from her body at the first glimpse of the unknown creature as she began mending the hole in the defence. With swift proficiency, she somehow connected the runic chains into the broken column, drawing in essence stored in the reservoir. While it did not restore the octagonal formation to its previous state, it would suffice as a temporary measure.

The winged creature seemed to wait for her to finish before it landed to stand before the ward she had mended, curiosity lighting up its otherwise feral expression. From up close, the creature appeared far less human, even though it wore human skin. Standing over two metres tall and flanked by two sinewy featherless wings, the creature imposed a domineering malevolent aura—the type that would trigger [Band of Protection] to envelop me in its protection.

Its face was pale, that of a middle-aged male human of high Althian ethnicity, with a squared jaw and all the perfect symmetry. Bulging black veins ran down its neck, disappearing beneath the smoothened bone armour encapsulating its form. Finally, it raised one of its clawed arms to touch the ward, as red and dark light flowed through the armour as though it were alive.

The barrier Mum put together contorted, jerking towards the clawed hand. The darkness in its palm tried to take hold of it, attempting to absorb the essence, but there was no way Mum was letting that happen. Pressing her will against the unrelenting force, she lashed out with a dozen chains of runes, gleaming with golden radiance.

"A hint of ascended essence," the creature said, its voice gravelly, as though echoing through a deep tunnel. It cast her a bright look, light moving unnaturally in his blighted eyes. "Star Phoenix, I presume? I believed that flaming bird had fled our realms after its crushing defeat. Well, it makes me all the more exultant..." --A sinister smile crept to its lips-- "not so much for you."

"What are you?" Mum asked, her voice almost unflinching. It was then I noticed the language that they were speaking was different from the common imperial tongue. The demon's voice reverberated with high notes, where my Mum's were more broken, as if she had not had enough time practising it.

The question was, how could I understand them? I had no recollection of ever learning it—whatever its name might be.

The dark premonition was soon undercut by the boisterous laugh that escaped the demon's mouth. "You know what I am," it said imperiously. "You have written stories of us. Worshipped us. Begged us for ages. Even years of our absence should not have made you forget our legend. Our myth."

"You are no myth," Mum said, her teeth clenched as she channelled all her essence threads and soul ward to keep the barrier standing. "I have seen legends, myths of forgotten times, and you are not one."

The demon bared its teeth, which were surprisingly symmetrical and human, despite its feral outlook. A malevolent air spread from its form, encapsulating the surroundings. "I can see what gave you the false idea. This vessel is barely fourth-tier—too fragile to withstand the entirety of the Undying soul. It has not been a few weeks since I inhabited it, and there are already signs of degradation. But you—" The Ashlord's gaze swept over Mum from head to toe as it licked its lips. "You will last a few years with ease once I absorb the phoenix essence."

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"You think," Mother croaked, "you're Undying? You don't look at yourself in the mirror much, do you, poor parasite?"

The squared face of the Ashlord twisted into something ominous as he snarled, "I will relish breaking you."

Mum refrained from replying, pulling all her Will into the work at hand. She turned her head to place a palm over my shoulder.

"Go hide in the sacrarium," her voice whispered into my ears. "It's going to be a little hectic from here on out."

"Ah, is that your child?" the Ashlord, the very creature of legend, turned its gaze upon me. A pervasive pressure permeated the air despite the barrier and settled on me, even with my mother withstanding it all for me. "Come now, boy, let us look at you."

There was something in the voice that compelled me to step forward. Mum's grip on my shoulder tightened. Alarm bells rang in my mind, literally and metaphorically. Much to my relief, the [Bell of Somnus] chimed, driving away the dark coercion before it could take hold of my autonomy.

Mother snarled at the demon, her essence threads and runic chains shifting into weaves to chaotic force, falling over the creature like a war hammer. The Ashlord reeled back, hundreds of inky tendrils of dark essence springing forth to combat the tearing force. Black lines of tears began to appear on its bony carapace, but they healed as soon as it cracked.

"Borrowed power can only take you so far, demon," Mum growled, taking a step forward, golden light rushing out in a flood.

She raised her palm to command an attack when a silent silhouette, waiting in ambush, hurtled from its rear to drive his sword into its back.

The demon turned at an unimaginable pace, flinging its clawed palm to catch the blade. But to its surprise, Ouroboros dug through the bone defence to emerge from the other side of his wrist, black ichor dripping down its edge.

"You are?" The Ashlord was more than a head taller than Father, looking down at him with the blade lodged through its palm.

Father twisted the sword, attempting to sever the limb, but once again, something unimaginable occurred. The very reality seemed to bend to the will of the Ashlord, and before anyone could see what it did, Father was flung several metres away by a long, bony sword extending out from the demon's palm.

Not only that, but the monster redirected some of the force Mum had exerted upon him to attack the ward.

Mother did not take chances and lunged towards the monster, golden light wrapping around her body as she brought out her war axe to strike down.

The Ashlord evaded the axe easily, its dark tendrils combated the essence threads surging with chaotic force. Fully donned in his soul robe, Father engaged once more, reliving some pressure of Mum, who brought out more pieces from her spatial storage.

First was a piece of breastplate that fastened to her chest, pulled by a few threads, followed by more pieces like vambraces, gauntlets, and other gear that covered her body, falling into place without her shrinking away from the Ashlord.

The golden plate encapsulated her lithe form fully; even her face was hidden behind a helm which only let an auburn braid of ponytail out.

Finding her weaves were not working as well as she hoped against the demon's terrifying arcane resistance, she only engaged with the war axe, swinging it in wild arcs with telekinesis whilst Father forced the demon to take to the air.

His figure sprang up to join it, whilst Mum remained grounded for the time being. She drew out a couple more axes, and swung them with great force with her essence threads.

With an exchange of glances with Father, both their figures blurred from their spots as they took their battle afar, where they would not have to fear the bystanders being hurt.

"Blighted ashes, is that really a—" Lucien did not have the heart to finish his sentence, as though saying it would cause a great deal of misfortune. But I could guess the truth from his pounding heart. My own heart was betraying me, too.

"There are still men who practise this base sword," the Ashlord said, deflecting a Whispering Gale with its wings. It seemed to recognise the sword forms, even mirroring a similar form of his own with his bone sword. The red and dark light flickered far deeper in its carapace now, entrapped further by the gloomy aura and inky tendrils that swallowed essence. "Let us see how far you have mastered it."

Instead of engaging Father, it raised a palm to signal the swarm of corpse flies at its disposal.

Clamorous shrieks and cries reverberated throughout the valley, replying to its call. And once the bone hand fell towards Father, the repulsive bats fell onto thier base instinct and swoop down to devour the life force of everything in thier wake.

"See how you face them," growled the demon, "after I deal with this foul woman."

The Ashlord shot towards Mum, his bone sword radiating dark light as his entire form.

As if Father was going to let him dictate their battle. With the dark whips of his soul robe billowing behind him, Father hurled his blade as a Tidal Surge swept towards the demon, leaving Mother to meet the swarm of corpse flies. The tearing force of her essence would be far more impactful on them than Father's sword, as we had observed so far.

The problem was that once she began tearing through the corpse flies with little to no difficulty, the horrid bats began to evade her and headed towards the dome—the very dome that had a gaping hole for them to enter.

Larius and old Rowin swiftly took their places, joining their prowess together to erect a barrier to mend the hole. They could not do what my mother could, but thier timely response obstructed the corpse flies as well as it could.

The swarm seemed to recognise the weakness in the ward and assaulted the newly erected barrier. Dozens of them crashed into the rippling defence without rest, thier high-pitched shrieks undoing many of our mental peace.

For all its undulation, the ward stood firm against the constant force.

Mum cast a look in our direction and deliberated over her choices. She was certain Larius and Rowin could hold off the swarm for a time. The question was whether the time would be enough for them to deal with the Ashlord.

Then she finally seemed to remember something, as her voice boomed through the space: "Magnus Julius Daenerys, do I have to remind you of your duty?"

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