Lia was facing Lucian inside a training field with her new, slightly curved longsword in hand. She was only wielding one, holding it in two hands, looking directly at the Headmaster. The silver body of the blade was shining in a magenta-colored hue while Lia's fingers tightened around the red and blue cord-wrapped handle.

"Attack when you are ready," Lucian said as Lia closed her eyes, taking deep, calming breaths.

She could feel her mana flow into her sword, traveling to the tip of the blade without obstruction, and she felt like it was part of her body. With a flash, she kicked herself forward, seamlessly moving the sword up before slashing down. As the blade swished through the sky, a sea of crimson-colored flames burst forth from its edge. The spell was way more intense than when Lia cast it with her hands; it was focused yet wild and rumbled forth like magma from an erupting volcano.

Lucian raised an energy bubble around himself, letting the flames split open, directed to the sides with an ear-splitting rumble, leaving behind sizzling sounds similar to when a piece of meat lands in an oiled frying pan. He continued looking forward, seeing through the fire obstructing his vision, watching Lia wave her hand and the sword, seamlessly coming apart, now resembled a long whip. It had sharp, arrowhead-like segments connected by a vibrant, blue-colored string of pure mana. Lia's sword-whip lashed out, wrapping itself around Lucian and his protective bubble, contracting and releasing blinding sparks as the shark-teeth-like edges cut into his defensive spell.

"Too strong…" Lia mumbled as she couldn't move Lucian or penetrate his spell. "But… I can crack it!"

With that, only by thinking about it, her artifact released a torrent of blue, chilly sea of flame, making Lucian smile. He saw his mana around him freeze over, starting to crack and break away as Lia tried it once more, now managing to indeed shatter it. Before her whip could land on Lucian, though, he was gone in a puff of smoke.

"Hmph!" She pulled, and the whip turned back into a sword, reconnecting almost instantly. Even then, it was enough of a delay for Lucian to appear behind Lia.

"It still needs-" But he couldn't finish as his eyes narrowed, and he had to raise his hands with red, crackling, electric claws protruding from his knuckles to block a second sword that aimed to behead him.

Lia, grinning triumphantly, summoned her second artifact, an exact twin of her first one, from the hidden No-Space inside its hilt. Lucian didn't say anything, just laughed, stepping backward while blocking and deflecting Lia's flurries with her twin swords, attacking him relentlessly, throwing blue strands of flames everywhere. In the end, she was no match for Lucian's battle experience. He caught one of her blades between his electric claws, twisting and jerking it out of Lia's hands before landing a kick square at her chest, sending her flying, crashing into the edge of their arena, knocking her momentarily unconscious.

"Ah…" Lucian stopped, looking embarrassed as he forgot to hold back. "Shit…!"

Hurrying forward, when he stepped next to her, Lia was just about to sit up. Her eyes were rolling around uncontrollably, and when she tried to say something, she just coughed, splattering fresh, ruby-colored blood everywhere. Lucian hurriedly poured a potion down her throat, making her breathing slowly even out, and soon she regained focus in her mismatched eyes.

"Owie…" She moaned but still managed to smile, looking up at Lucian. "That hurt…"

"Sorry…" He said awkwardly, feeling like he was indeed a silly fox, forgetting to hold back… but why didn't Somia teleport her out?! Because it wasn't fatal? Damn woman!

"You used your full strength… that means I did especially good!" She said proudly, standing back up with his support, balancing on still shaking legs.

"Yep, you did!" He let out a long breath, rubbing her head.

"Teehee!" Lia flashed another smile with her teeth and lips smeared with blood. "Then I am good at it, no? No?"

"Yep! You are good! And you hid a second one? Good thinking! It is best to always have an ace up your sleeve that nobody knows about!"

"I thought the same!" She nodded, already back into almost full energy, hopping forward as if nothing happened, recollecting her swords and placing the second one 'back into' the first.

"How many know about it?" Lucian asked, watching her do it.

"Opparu, me, and now you!"

"Keep it that way! Only bring it forth when necessary! Tell only Solren and maybe your Mother. They can teach you tricks with dual wielding! But until then, the less you know about it, the better!"

"Um!" She nodded, taking his advice seriously.

"Your blue flames were even more impressive…." He added, watching the blade in Lia's hand, shining perfectly, without any cracks on it at all. "It even affected MY mana. I just… can't fathom what level it will reach later on."

"I hope my baby will be able to handle it…."

"Your baby, eh?" Lucian laughed again, "Worry not! It was forged with your mana! It should be able to withstand you until you reach the stage of Three Ri! Want another round?"

“Ah… n-no…” She answered, surprising Lucian, watching her shy face, looking down at her feet while speaking, "It still hurts to breath…." She murmured, rubbing her chest.

"Come. Let's rest a little… you earned it!" Lucian smiled, watching her with a warm light in his crimson eyes.

…
….
……

While Lia and the rest were enjoying the winter on the floating island, far away, below the surface of Meriath, in a long-forgotten Sub-Realm, Solren and Razael were facing off against a group of Intelligent Undead warriors.

They followed a clue, and in a conjoined effort with the House of Ro and the House of Nerifit, they descended down, leading a thousand-men-strong army from the three Houses. What they found was a seemingly empty realm, just like all the others. The ground was black and sapped of all life; the trees that once had to be verdant green now were ash-like grey, turning into dust after someone touched them.

As the expedition walked, they found a valley-like place, surrounded by small, broken mountains, lying on the deserted banks of a dried-up river. The ancient pagoda-like buildings were crumbling or already destroyed, fallen over just like their previous residents' remains. Bones littered the abandoned world; looking at them, there had to be at least a million people living here once, or nothing could explain the number of skulls littering the grounds.

Looking up the sky, it was dark, mixing in the color of purple and orange. Watching it, Razael immediately realized that they were not looking at a sky but at No-Space itself. It was only separated by a weak, cracked energy field. It was a trap. If it was to break, all the forces they came with would probably be destined to die immediately. Made evident by the fact that the Undead started to fall from the sky, from No-Space, passing through the energy field unhindered, and a bloody battle broke out immediately. On the ground, the forces of Ro rushed forward, unafraid, intercepting the Undead as multiple colored flames burst towards the enemy who had already landed. Its source came from one of their leaders, Zorgan's hands, who was now already in the middle of them, burning them away, releasing all the frustration he had felt in the past year or so.

"Up! Don't let them touch the ground and surround us!" Kaznak, the leader of the House of Nerifit who personally was leading his people, shouted, and at once, his soldiers sprouted dragon-like wings, all of them flying up the sky, cutting down the falling Undead in mid-air.

"Spread out!" Razael ordered his group and the soldiers from the 4th Branch, "Keep our rear clean and start retreating! WE ARE LEAVING!" He shouted, his voice echoing through the whole Realm, infused with his mana. As the true leader of this expedition with his 7th Tier strength, nobody, not even Kaznak, argued as the army started to fall back, following his orders.

"Here they come!" Solren said coolly, watching the sky as three dark-greenish miasma-covered bodies were about to 'fall,' a clear signal that the leaders had arrived.

"Let's go, Lil' bro… We are going to take them on!" Razael grinned and kicked out. With a resounding sonic boom, he was already high in the sky, higher than the flying soldiers of Nerifit.

The three just stepped through the energy field, and one was grabbing backward as if he was about to tear the veil away and let No-Space consume the whole Sub-Realm. That was when the sonic boom of Razael arrived, and he grabbed onto the Undead's arm. Even though his strength was extraordinary, the miasma surrounding the Undead's body stopped him from breaking the arm and tearing it off with only one move.

Razael wasn't fazed by it; he was expecting it. He flung the thin Undead towards the ground while going after the other two, his arms burning in golden flames, leaving streaks of light behind himself as he fought with two at once.

"Purging light of the heavens!" Arrived Solren's voice, who now sprouted gigantic, white angel-like wings and wielded a burning claymore, slashing at the Undead that was still falling downwards, flung away by Razael.

Solren's body exploded with light as dozens of magic circles surrounded their battlefield, glowing blindingly. Even the Undead had to shield its green eye and could not see the arc of energy being flung off Solren's sword. It slashed the Undead into two, splitting him vertically and continuing to head upwards unhindered. Before it could crash into the flimsy shield before the sky, he just mouthed a silent word, and the energy exploded, showering the battlefield down below with a rain of light, impaling dozens of simple Undeads down below, saving multiple soldiers' live without even looking.

"Down you go!" Razael roared, looking like a golden lion in the sky kicking one Undead so hard the airblast behind it left a crater on the ground before the white-haired, pale body even had a chance to land. Holding the other's head in a vice grip, he fell downwards like a burning meteor, crashlanding and throwing dead earth, thousands of bones, and black rocks everywhere.

Solren, just like his brother, was back on the ground, attacking with his sword, aiming to sever the head of the Undead, which Razael kicked down from the sky. Before his burning sword could land, the one he cut apart reappeared, already back together, grabbing the blade with two hands and letting his comrade reconstruct his body that was cracked in millions of places.

"Hmph!" Solren scoffed as his wings flashed, surrounding the area with a wall made out of the light that glowed so intensely that all the dried trees and bones caught on fire. The flame on his claymore was already burning away the fingers of the Undead, but it did not flinch or blink, his green eyes watching Solren's cold expression before opening its mouth and speaking.

"Our bodies got old." It said almost as if lamenting. "Yours will be a fine replacement."

"Then come and get it!" Solren spat, and his spit burned like a miniature sun, blowing up straight into the Undead's face, exploding it to smithereens.

The move did not make it fall over; it simply pushed Solren's claymore to the side while his comrade joined in the battle, switching him out, wielding a black and green longsword. Soon the two were in a duel, striking against each other in a flurry. Solren felt it was the first time someone matched him in a swordfight. Not even his Mother could keep up with him if it came to dueling, yet this Undead managed to read him and block his advances, even countering some.

"Let them fight!" Razael laughed as he grabbed the headless Undead at its leg, using him as a weapon, smashing it against the other that could barely repair its broken body with his dark miasma. "My lil' brother rarely has the opportunity to find someone with good swordplay!" He roared, and his voice was like a beast's roar.

Among Reyra's children, he inherited the most from his father, his beast folk bloodline turning him especially wild in battle. Now, after reaching the 7th Tier, it was even more prominent. His long, golden hair was like a lion's mane, his muscular body was brimming with energy, and he was constantly surrounded by golden flames like an ancient beast awakened from its slumber.

"You won't leave from here!" Razael shot forward and smashed into the Undead before him. With the club in his hand that was the headless Undead, he hit his opponent again, again, and again. "What's up? Can't repair that quickly? Huh?" He snarled and then tore the headless one in his hand into two, flinging the body parts to the side, knowing full well it would try and rebuild itself anyway. "Let's deal with you first!"

With that, he grabbed the one he was pummelling and raised it to the sky as everything was burning around him, turning the world itself into an inferno. The dark, greenish miasma surrounding the Undead in his grasp could resist his fire but not for long. Still… in its eyes, there was no fear or emotions, as if it did not matter.

"You failed," Razael whispered, but then the Undead inadvertently formed a small smile before being turned into ash. Although it disturbed Razael, it was no time to hesitate, and he went to stop the other from rebuilding itself and burnt it into nothing.

Turning to the side, he saw Solren gaining the upper hand against his enemy. His footwork became faster and more unpredictable while his blue eyes stared at the green eyes of the Undead. Then, when he sensed it was raising his hand a millisecond later than it should, he made his move. He was already at its side with a blinding flash, leaving an arc of light behind as his claymore sliced four times under a fraction of a second. The Undead's body was blasted apart by the sheer force of his sword strikes alone. Before they could fall to the ground, the fire around Solren's blade intensified, and it started to burn its body into ash, preventing the Undead from reassembling itself for good.

"It was strong." He said, still holding his claymore, letting his breath show his exhaustion before popping a pill, his eyes turning towards the still raging battle as normal Undead continued falling down from the sky while the rest of the army was trying to retreat.

"Yeah. This may not have been just a trap…." Razael nodded, glancing towards the 'sky' as he had a feeling someone was watching them but couldn't sense or see anybody.

"No matter." Solren shook his body, spurting angel wings once again. "Let's go! There are still Undead around!"

"With this, you are going to set a new record, no?" Razael grinned at his brother, who smiled back unceremoniously.

"With this, my dear brother, I will be second only to Erias in Undead body count!"

…
….
……

Amongst the clouds of No-Space, two Undead were standing there, watching the battle down below them while more and more simple-minded ones were sent forward.

"You were right." A feminine voice said, coming from a child-like body. "Our current bodies are not adequate enough. Even with our powers, time still damaged them. We need new hosts. Your bodies failed particularly, dear brother."

"Mhm. The drones are doing fine; the low-ranking disciples can control them in groups well enough and don't need to be at peak form. The problem comes with ours. They just can't keep up with our minds. We need fresh ones." A man's voice answered with a chuckle, having the same voice as the three Undead that Razael and Solren just killed.

"We need to infiltrate the Realm and search for good enough puppets. But… we can't go down at once. I want a similarly cute one, though..."

"Send the Inner Disciples and some Elders down first. Let them explore the Realm and see what changes happened in the past eras. They should be able to find new hosts in the meanwhile. After we have a better picture, we can send the Grand Elders down to get new bodies to control."

"What about ours?" She asked, but her voice was unconcerned.

"We are the pillars of our Sect... We need the best of the best! Tell those who go down to try and spy on the current Six. Let those so-called Houses provide us with new hosts. Only the best innate talent is worthy of hosting our souls!" He licked his lips, and with that, they were gone, no longer interested in the battle in the crumbling Sub-Realm below them.