​Afternoons at Zero Castle were usually a time when the world seemed to stop turning.

​Dola sat at the center of The Heart of Logic. Her majestic white cape now appeared slightly frayed, wrapping around her still-fragile body. She leaned back into the large chair, trying to find a comfortable position. The black stain on her left arm hadn't completely vanished; the smudge was still there, pulsing faintly beneath her skin. Gulp. Dola swallowed hard; her throat felt dry and bitter.

​Since the day she performed the massive data transfer to Dayat, followed by the death-match against Orchid and the tragedy that claimed Morbis's life—Dola hadn't truly returned to her old self. The Seal of the Six Goddesses entwined around her core felt colder and heavier. Yet today, that pain was suddenly sidelined by something far more dominant.

​It began as a subtle vibration. Extremely faint, like a ripple on the surface of a calm lake when a grain of dust falls upon it. No one else in the castle noticed it. In the backyard, the muffled shouts of Kancil training Loy and Riri could still be heard. In the control room, the rhythmic tapping of Dalgor's fingers on the keyboard continued. In the kitchen, Lunethra was likely busy with the clink of knives and the aroma of sautéed spices. But Dola felt it in the very marrow of her bones—a frequency that hadn't touched her senses in thousands of years.

​Dola's blue eyes suddenly flared, no longer a soft azure but a sharp, dangerous electric blue. Her slumped body jolted rigid.

​"Hmm... She's coming."

​Dayat, who had been standing silently by the large window facing south, started. The hand holding his coffee cup trembled violently. Splash. The black liquid nearly overflowed onto his fingers. Dayat set the cup down on the marble table with a sharp clatter.

​"Who?" Dayat asked, his voice slightly hoarse, as if dust had suddenly filled his throat.

​Dola rose from her chair. Her movements were no longer graceful; she stumbled slightly, her hand gripping the armrest to support her trembling frame. However, her gaze remained fixed, piercing toward the southern horizon that was beginning to darken. "Wabil."

​Dayat fell silent for a moment, his jaw tightening until the muscles in his neck strained. He took a long, deep breath, trying to calm a heart that had suddenly gone wild. There was no explosion of panic—Dayat was far too familiar with living on the edge—but his fingers clenched tightly at his sides.

​"How close?"

​"Still outside the sensor radius... but her aura... tsk, she isn't even trying to hide herself. She wants us to know she's standing at our doorstep," Dola whispered.

​It took only a few minutes for everyone in the castle to gather in The Heart of Logic. Kancil marched in, breath hitching, his chest heaving rapidly. His right hand gripped the heavy, cold handle of his Desert Eagle. His messy brown hair was damp with sweat. Behind him, Loy and Riri followed with confused and tense faces, their small eyes darting around, trying to figure out why the adults around them suddenly looked as if they were facing the apocalypse.

​Lunethra entered last. Her green gown was slightly rumpled at the sleeves, and her scent still carried the lingering aroma of kitchen spices. Her delicate hand still clutched a small paring knife.

​In another corner, Dalgor was already at the control panel. The old dwarf wore his magnifying goggles, his stout fingers moving nimbly across holographic screens displaying energy graphs. "Sensors just caught something, Boss," Dalgor's voice was raspier and heavier than usual. "A single energy signature. Massive. So massive the sensors are practically throwing errors. It's moving from the south. Not an army... just a single entity."

​"Wabil," Dayat repeated, his voice now colder and more controlled.

​Everyone in the room seemed to freeze. That name wasn't just a name. Their memory of Morbis was still fresh—Wabil's messenger who had nearly torn this castle apart from the inside with black roots and a plague that rotted everything. If the messenger was that formidable, they couldn't imagine what the master was capable of. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

​"Hah... What does that creature want?" Kancil asked, his voice strained.

​"I don't know," Dayat replied shortly. He turned toward Dola, who was still standing with great difficulty. "Can you fight, Dola?"

​Dola shook her head slowly, her expression solemn. "Not in this sealed condition. I'm struggling even to stabilize the mana within my own body. But... I can stand beside you. I won't let you face her alone."

​Dayat nodded. That was more than enough.

​A strategy was devised in short order. Lunethra was ordered to take Loy and Riri to the deepest part of the castle, to a bunker reinforced with binary steel. Kancil was stationed in the backyard, guarding against any potential attacks from blind spots. Dalgor remained in the control room, his fingers dancing to maximize the castle's shields, which currently sat at a mere 30%.

​Dayat and Dola walked toward the front gate. The sound of Dayat's boots clicked against the polished black obsidian floor. Outside, the mist of the Lamenting Forest moved sluggishly, coiling among the charred, withered tree trunks.

​They didn't have to wait long.

​A figure emerged from behind the black trees. She did not walk upon the ground. She hovered, a few centimeters above the grass which withered instantly as her shadow passed over it. Her movements were fluid. The long white gown she wore was filthy, matted with old, dried bloodstains that had turned a dark, rusted brown.

​Her raven-black hair was incredibly long, concealing her entire face, though the strands occasionally parted to reveal a pair of empty, pupil-less white eyes. Her hands—far too thin for a living being—had black nails that curved sharply like talons, hanging limp at her sides. She stopped just a few meters outside the castle's energy shield radius.

​Wabil didn't attack immediately. She remained silent, hovering statically, observing every inch of Zero Castle with her head tilted at an unnatural angle. Krit. The sound of her neck shifting rang out clearly in the silence.

​Her hair shifted again, and this time, those white eyes locked onto Dayat.

​"Hmm... So you are the Architect. The human who made the Maiden fall so deeply in love she lost her sanity."

​The voice didn't travel through the air. It resonated directly inside Dayat's skull. Cold, clear, and carrying a tone that was soft yet lethal.

​Dayat didn't respond. He stood tall, hands at his sides, ready to manifest any weapon in an instant. Dola took a step forward, placing herself slightly ahead of Dayat—an instinctive protective gesture.

​"What do you want, Wabil?" Dola's voice was cold and sharp, without a hint of hesitation.

​Wabil tilted her head again. Slightly to the left, then to the right. "You didn't use to talk much, Maiden. Every time we met, you would immediately draw your sword with pure murderous intent."

​She hovered a step closer. "Back then, you never protected anyone. You were destruction itself. That is why even Ghafil was reluctant to disturb you. But now... look at you. Standing in front of a human, shielding him as if he were a precious treasure. Love truly has made you... boring."

​Dola remained silent, but Dayat could feel the aura around her heating up.

​"I have not come to trade lives today," Wabil continued, her voice remaining soft. "I have come to offer a profitable deal."

​"I'm not interested in any offers from you," Dayat interrupted firmly, cutting the Harbinger short.

​Wabil turned toward Dayat. "My, you haven't even heard it, Architect. Didn't your old world teach you any manners?"

​"I don't need manners to deal with a harbinger of plague who destroys kingdoms," Dayat retorted coldly.

​Wabil let out a small laugh. "Heh, you're exactly like him back then. Always straight to the point, hating to waste time." She refocused her attention on Dola. "The gate to Nevareth Hollow is still closed, Maiden. And I wish to open it fully. Help me. With our combined power, not a single goddess in the heavens would dare intervene to stop us."

​Wabil spread her skeletal arms as if inviting Dola to draw near. "In exchange, I swear I will not touch this little castle of yours. You and this human can live in peace here forever."

​Silence. The offer hung in the air, sweet yet poisonous. Dayat glanced at Dola, and Dola looked back at him. There was no need for a long discussion. No need for a debate on morality. They both already knew what they had to say.

​"The answer is no."

​The words came from Dayat's mouth. Not Dola's. Dayat himself, with a tone that was absolute and non-negotiable.

​Wabil fell silent for a moment. An odd glint appeared behind her empty white eyes—perhaps surprise, or perhaps a strange respect for a human who dared to reject her offer. "You reject a Harbinger's offer without a second thought? Interesting."

​"I don't need time to think about something so disgusting."

​Wabil remained silent for a long while before finally breaking into a wide smile. The smile revealed rows of pale white teeth behind her hair. "I expected you to say that. But at least I tried to be kind." She began to hover backward, slowly drifting away from the castle gates. Her body gradually faded, merging back into the black mist creeping through the Lamenting Forest. "Until we meet again, Maiden. And you... Architect. I hope our next meeting... will be much more colorful."

​Wabil vanished completely, like smoke blown by a strong wind.

​Dayat exhaled a long breath he had been holding. His legs trembled slightly as the tension began to subside. He knew all too well that this was not the end. This was a true declaration of war. Wabil would not stop, and when she returned, she wouldn't come to simply offer a deal.