It didn't take long for Galen and Magnus to roll into Zone 12 after their call with Mystica fizzled out. The train hadn't even cooled before they were already striding through the academy gates, heading straight for her chamber like men on a mission.
Magnus stretched with a groan that could rival a yawning lion. "Mmm, smell that? Sweet, non-demonic air. I swear, I could marry Amthar."
Galen, eyes half-dead and voice lower than the tone of his patience, muttered, "Yeah, the cursed fog back in the Ruins was getting into my skull. Let's see Mystica first, then chug something strong. My throat's drier than a sand witch's humor."
They moved through the courtyard, ignoring salutes from knights left and right. Eventually, they reached the hall leading to Mystica's quarters. Galen didn't bother knocking—subtlety wasn't in the mood—and shoved the door open like it owed him something.
Inside, sunlight poured in like liquid gold with books littered the floor.
And there, sprawled like chaos incarnate, was Dove.
One leg thrown over the armrest of a velvet chair, a lit cigar lazily dancing between her lips. She wore an oversized white shirt, hanging open just enough to expose part of her breast. No pants in sight—just the shimmer of black panties playing peekaboo beneath the fabric.
She glanced up, eyes half-lidded, and blew a plume of smoke through her nostrils like a dragon goddess on break. "Took your sweet time, didn't you? What, you think my Night Empress has all day to wait on you clowns?"
Magnus paused mid-stride like he'd just walked into heaven and hell at once. "Wow… I know you're not into men but—hear me out—one night and I'll convert you."
"Close your mouth, puppy," Dove said, flicking ash into a floating tray without looking. "And trust me, your magic stick won't even cast a spark on me."
Magnus, undeterred and still very much eyeballing, smirked. "Had to shoot my shot."
Dove smirked back with teeth. "Keep looking and I'll start charging per blink."
Galen didn't even flinch. He was already walking to the bar. "Do you ever wear pants? Or is this just your permanent state of being?"
Dove leaned back with a chuckle darker than midnight. "Says the man who was practically drooling over this body the last time he got drunk. What's wrong? Suddenly found modesty?"
She exhaled smoke in his direction, eyes twinkling. "Come on, pretty boy… don't you wanna admire me again?"
Galen sipped his wine like it was holy water. "Clearly I said too much while intoxicated."
"Oh, you did," she whispered with a grin, lifting one bare leg to the table like a flag of victory.
Right then, Mystica stepped out from the back, hair thrown up in a messy bun with a book in one hand. She barely glanced at the scene and didn't blink.
"Great, you made it," she said, utterly unbothered by Dove turning her room into a chaos land. "Ignore the nudist. She's been on a freedom streak all morning."
"Don't shame art in motion, Empress," Dove said, raising her cigar like a toast.
Magnus nodded like a loyal follower. "Art indeed," he whispered.
Galen slumped onto the couch with a groan, rubbing his eyes. "Can we please talk about Sylvathar before my brain checks out from all the skin exposure?"
Mystica chuckled and snapped her fingers to cast the Silent spell across the room.
"Alright, lover boys," she purred. "Spill it. Tell mommy everything."
"Don't ever call yourself that again," Galen said, deadpan.
"Huh? Why not?" Mystica purred, her voice like velvet laced with mischief. "You called me that the last time we were in bed together, Gally."
"…Huh?" Dove shot up like thunder, dramatic as ever. She loomed over Galen with a shadowy glare, planting one foot firmly on the couch—directly next to his face, panties front and center. "Hey, you dare touch my wife? My Empress?" Her short hair fell over one eye like a stormcloud.
Galen didn't even blink. "Please move your underdressed leg out of my vision. And no, I didn't lay a single finger on your 'woman'."
Dove stared at him in silence for a moment… then huffed and slinked back into her seat like a moody cat.
"She touched me," Galen added, sipping his drink with zero shame.
Dove's head snapped to Mystica. "You cheated on me?" she gasped, mock-sobbing with her hands to her chest.
Mystica rolled her eyes and lazily waved her off. "It was a joke, Dove. Obviously. And so was he."
She straightened up, her tone shifting. "Now, children, can we please return to the Sylvathar situation before this devolves into a soap opera?"
Magnus leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees with a grin. "Honestly, I kinda like the soap opera vibes. Feels like we're in a very attractive sitcom."
"Magnus," Galen muttered without turning his head, "shut up before Dove starts stripping for a theme song."
Dove lit up with a grin, lifting her cigar. "Tempting, honestly. Got the body, got the attitude, just missing the live audience." She turned to Magnus with a wink. "You clapping, pretty boy?"
"I'll clap anything for you," Magnus replied without missing a beat.
Mystica smacked a book down on the table with just enough force to silence the flirting. "Okay. Enough sexual tension, unless it's directed at me."
All three of them shut up.
Mystica inhaled slowly, her expression darkening. "We all know Sylvathar walks among us now."
Galen leaned further into the couch, arms sprawled. "Yeah. He's here. Somewhere in the cracks."
"When we investigated the Rift," he continued, "some freakshow Gaia demon showed up. Not him—but definitely not one of the usual ones either. It was tougher… different somehow." He paused, recalling its looming size. "Also, annoyingly tall."
"Ah," Mystica smirked, "so that's why you actually fought. Normally, you'd let Magnus do the dirty work so your precious shirt stays spotless."
"Correct," Galen said flatly. "Anyway… before Roots died, he said phase one of their plan was already complete."
"Phase one?" Dove tilted her head. "The hell does that mean?"
"Sylvathar's made a deal with power-hungry humans. People—actual humans—now walk around with fragments of a Demon Lord's blood in their bodies."
Dove's eyes lit up like she'd just won a bet. "Ha! I knew it. That Duchess Aveline bitch did strike a deal with a demon! I knew it! I told you, didn't I? Now there are more freaks like her just walking around the Three Kingdoms."
Mystica narrowed her eyes. "Did Roots say anything else? About their goal?"
"Yeah," Galen said, sipping his wine. "Sylvathar wants to increase his kin. Gaia demons are naturally stronger than most—but among the Demon Lord species, they're still at the bottom of the food chain. So he's trying to bolster their numbers here on Amthar. My guess? Once he's got enough, he'll march back into the demon realm and demand a promotion."
Magnus raised an eyebrow. "But… isn't that kind of dumb? I mean, it's just more of the same. Wouldn't that make him stronger in numbers, not in actual power?"
"You've got it wrong, handsome," Dove said, voice like velvet dipped in smoke. "What he's creating isn't more of the same. He's using human bodies—our adaptability, our myst affinity—fused with his blood. The result?" She leaned in, smiling like a predator. "A whole new breed of Gaia demons. Stronger. Smarter. Meaner."
Galen finished his drink and muttered, "The worst kind of evolution."
Magnus scratched his head, frowning. "So, like… demon-human hybrids on steroids?"
"More like nature's worst glitch," Dove replied, dragging on her cigar. "Imagine a creature with a Gaia demon's raw muscle—but a human's brain and emotions. They won't just punch through walls, they'll plan how to collapse the whole damn city."
Mystica nodded, closing the book in her hand with a soft thud. "And if that's the case… then this isn't about starting a war. It's about perfecting a species."
"A species loyal to him," Galen added. "He's building a family. An army. Something that won't just tear through our defenses, but spread like a disease."
"Like a weed with claws," Dove muttered, tapping ash off her cigar. "And we're just the soil."
Silence filled the room for a moment.
Mystica broke it, her voice as smooth. "We need to find the hybrids. Cut the roots before the forest grows."
Magnus leaned forward, arms resting on his knees. "Any idea where they're popping up first?"
"Nothing concrete," Galen said. "But I got a feeling Duchess... whatever her name is, wasn't the first… and definitely won't be the last."
Mystica leaned back slightly. "Queen Lucy must know of this and so must the other Kingdoms as well."
"Yes, I get to see that diva again." Dove said, biting her lips seductively.
"I thought you had a thing for Mystica." Magnus said with sincere confusion.
Galen simply rose, adjusting his collar. "She's a whore, it is that simple, Magnus."
"A whole which you wanna pipe down!"