The morning sun painted Salimoor’s eastern gate in golden light as Rey’s team assembled for their next mission.

"Rampaging Beast suppression," Gareth explained, reviewing the mission parameters. "Standard rotation duty that all Gold-rank teams handle monthly. Keeps the beast populations from growing large enough to threaten outlying settlements."

Rey listened with appropriate attention while internally cataloguing the new information. Rampaging Beasts—creatures that existed in the wilderness beyond civilized territories, operating on instinct rather than corruption but still dangerous to human populations.

"How dangerous are we talking?" Finn asked, checking his equipment nervously.

"Tier 8 to Tier 7 typically," Lyssa replied. "Occasionally Tier 6 if we’re unlucky. But we’re a coordinated team with Gold-rank capabilities—we can handle anything short of genuine monster tide." 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

Kaela gestured toward the mission briefing.

"Intelligence reports increased activity near the Thornwood region. Three separate incidents of Rampaging Beasts approaching farmland in the past week. We eliminate enough to reduce population pressure while maintaining ecosystem balance."

"Ecosystem balance?" Rey asked, his tone suggesting innocent curiosity.

Jaren nodded. "Rampaging Beasts serve important ecological function. They keep other wildlife populations in check, prevent overgrowth of certain plant species, maintain natural cycles. If we eliminate them completely, the wilderness becomes unstable in different ways."

"Plus," Gareth added with a grin, "some practitioners can tame them through Soul Art techniques. Convert Rampaging Beasts into Divine Beasts—controlled entities that serve their master while retaining enhanced capabilities."

Rey’s expression showed polite interest while his mind sharpened with sudden recognition.

Taming.

Soul Art techniques that bound creatures to practitioner’s will.

The description triggered memories he’d carefully suppressed—Alicia, his first crush from H’Trae, one of the heroes summoned from Earth.

She’d been a Tamer, her Skills allowing her to bond with and command creatures that others considered threats.

He remembered her smile, her enthusiasm when discussing her companions, the way she’d been by his side during those early confusing months.

She had died in H’Trae’s war against the Dragons, long before the death of everyone else he’d cared about.

Rey forced the memory away with practiced discipline.

Sentiment served no purpose except to create vulnerability.

"So we’re culling numbers while preserving the population for both ecological and practical reasons," he summarized.

"Exactly," Kaela confirmed. "Think of it as maintaining balance rather than elimination."

The team departed through the eastern gate, making their way toward the Thornwood region—a forested area approximately ten kilometers from Salimoor’s walls where wilderness began encroaching on civilization.

***

The journey took three hours of steady travel through increasingly wild terrain.

Cultivated farmland gradually gave way to untamed forest, the ambient mystical energy shifting from ordered human influence to chaotic natural patterns.

"First contact," Lyssa announced, her detection techniques identifying mystical signatures ahead. "Three Rampaging Beasts, Tier 7 classification. Approximately two hundred meters north-northeast."

The team immediately shifted into combat formation without need for verbal commands—practiced coordination suggesting extensive experience working together.

Gareth took point position, his earth-based techniques providing both offensive capability and defensive protection. Lyssa and Finn positioned on flanks, ready to launch ranged attacks. Kaela and Jaren maintained a middle formation for tactical flexibility.

And Rey brought up the rear, his role combining observation with reactive support.

They advanced cautiously until the Rampaging Beasts came into view—massive wolf-like creatures standing two meters tall at the shoulder, their fur crackling with wild Ether that suggested they’d absorbed ambient mystical energy through prolonged wilderness exposure.

"Standard engagement," Gareth stated quietly. "Contain, damage, eliminate. Keep them from scattering—if they flee separately, pursuit becomes complicated."

"Spirit Art, Construction Technique, Sequence #6: Earth Prison!"

Stone erupted around the three beasts, forming walls that prevented easy escape while leaving openings for ranged attacks.

Lyssa followed immediately. "Spirit Art, Tempest Technique, Sequence #6: Lightning Cascade!"

Electricity arced toward the contained beasts, targeting the nearest one with concentrated assault.

The creature roared and tried to dodge, but the Earth Prison limited its mobility. Lightning struck its flank, burning through fur and flesh with holy-enhanced damage.

Finn launched his own attack. "Spirit Art, Inferno Technique, Sequence #7: Flame Arrows!"

Fire erupted in multiple projectiles, targeting the second beast while Lyssa maintained pressure on the first.

The third beast, seeing its companions under assault, charged the Earth Prison wall with desperate strength.

"Kaela!" Gareth called.

"Spirit Art, Tempest Technique, Sequence #7: Wind Blade!"

Compressed air struck the charging beast’s legs, cutting deep enough to compromise its movement without killing it outright.

Rey observed the coordinated assault with professional appreciation. Each team member understood their role perfectly—Gareth controlling battlefield terrain, Lyssa and Finn providing primary damage, Kaela offering tactical support, Jaren ready to heal if anyone sustained injuries.

They didn’t need Rey’s intervention for threats at this level.

Which was exactly how he preferred it—demonstrate competence when required, but avoid revealing capabilities that would raise questions about his background.

The first beast fell to Lyssa’s sustained assault, its body collapsing as lightning destroyed critical organs. The second beast, already injured by Finn’s flames, tried to flee but was intercepted by Gareth’s earth manipulation.

"Spirit Art, Construction Technique!"

A massive spike erupted from the ground, impaling the beast through its torso with lethal precision.

Only the third remained, injured and cornered, its mystical pressure fluctuating with desperate survival instinct.

"Finish it," Gareth commanded.

The team launched coordinated final assault—lightning, fire, wind, and earth converging on the trapped creature. It died quickly, overwhelmed by combined techniques operating at levels it couldn’t resist.

Silence returned to the forest as the Rampaging Beasts’ bodies dispersed into ambient mystical energy, their physical forms maintained only by concentrated Ether that dissipated upon death.

"Clean execution," Gareth observed with satisfaction. "No injuries, minimal Ether expenditure, all targets eliminated efficiently."

They continued deeper into the Thornwood, encountering and dispatching several more groups of Rampaging Beasts over the next four hours. Each engagement followed similar patterns—tactical containment, coordinated assault, efficient elimination.

Rey participated appropriately, contributing Mid-Sequence techniques when required but generally allowing his teammates to handle threats they were clearly capable of managing.

During a rest break, the conversation turned to Beast taming.

"I’ve always wondered about Divine Beast creation," Finn said, watching the forest with wary eyes. "Soul Art techniques that convert Rampaging Beasts into controlled companions. Seems like it would be incredibly useful."

"Requires specialized training," Lyssa explained. "Soul Art mastery at Mid-Sequence minimum, understanding of beast psychology, ability to establish dominant mystical connection without destroying the creature’s core consciousness."

"There’s a Tamer Guild in the capital," Kaela added. "They handle most Divine Beast creation and training. Apparently the Church regulates it carefully—don’t want powerful beasts falling into wrong hands."

Rey listened while memories of Alicia surfaced again despite his efforts at suppression.

She’d explained her Taming Skills during one of their conversations in H’Trae—how she could sense creatures’ emotions, establish bonds through mutual respect rather than domination, and coordinate with her companions in combat with almost telepathic precision.

He’d been fascinated by her abilities, impressed by her natural talent for something he couldn’t replicate.

’Although I had my Doppel Skill, so technically... I could copy it. And I did...’

A smile crept up on his face.

Those were simpler times, were they not?

’Although Alicia badly wanted to return to Earth, I think she would have liked this,’ Rey thought despite himself. ’Learning about Divine Beasts, comparing Ancient Majik techniques to her Taming Skills, discussing the differences between System-granted abilities and God-bestowed Arts.’

The thought led to an uncomfortable realization.

Ancient Majik—the Six Arts system—operated remarkably similar to Skills from H’Trae.

Both had hierarchical structures, both required mastery through practice, both involved channeling mystical energy through specific patterns to achieve defined effects.

Skills broke down into tiers and subcategories.

Arts broke down into Techniques and Sequences.

But Skills were regulated by the System—the quasi-divine framework that governed H’Trae’s reality.

While Arts appeared regulated by the Gods themselves—Lucia, Ciel, Aegir, Klaus, Sif, and the Ancient Chaos deity governing the sixth Art, K’haos.

’If Gods regulate Ancient Majik,’ Rey calculated, ’they should be able to detect or prevent practitioners they consider enemies from using it. I’m actively working against both Aether and Nether divine authorities. Yet I can use both Chaos Art and Spirit Art without interference.’

The implications suggested either the Gods had limitations in their awareness, or Ancient Majik operated through principles that transcended divine control in ways Rey didn’t fully understand.

He reached out mentally to the Prince of Darkness.

’What do you know about the Gods’ actual capabilities?’ Rey asked through their soul-bond. ’Specifically, can they monitor all uses of Arts they supposedly govern?’

The Prince’s consciousness stirred from dormancy.

’My knowledge is limited,’ it admitted. ’I was created as tool rather than confidant. But I can confirm the Gods are not omniscient or omnipotent despite mortal perception. They possess vast power and extensive awareness, but both have boundaries.’

’Which suggests they can be defeated,’ Rey concluded.

’Theoretically,’ the Prince agreed with caution. ’Though I would advise against underestimating them. Their power exceeds anything you’ve encountered thus far by orders of magnitude you cannot comprehend.’

’Someone must have tried to fight them,’ Rey pressed. ’Gods this powerful would have faced challengers. What happened to those who opposed them?’

The Prince was silent for a long moment.

’There was one,’ it finally replied. ’An entity who attempted rebellion against divine authority. He possessed power that exceeded both Archangels and Archdukes—unmatched in either realm, commanding capabilities that made even the Gods take notice.’

Rey’s attention sharpened with intense focus. ’What happened to him?’

’Defeated,’ the Prince stated flatly. ’The Gods coordinated assault using their full combined power. He was banished to the deepest layers of existence—not killed, because entities at that level cannot be truly destroyed, but imprisoned so thoroughly that escape would require power exceeding what confined him.’

Rey processed this with cold calculation.

If someone powerful enough to exceed Archangels and Archdukes still lost to the Gods’ coordinated response, what chance did Rey have with his current capabilities?

He couldn’t even defeat a single Angel or high-tier Devil independently, much less face Archangels or Archdukes.

And the Gods themselves?

Attempting confrontation at his current level would be suicide.

’Who was this entity?’ Rey asked. ’If he was that powerful, surely his identity is known.’

The Prince’s consciousness carried something approaching reverence—unusual for a being that typically expressed only cold efficiency.

’My old master,’ it revealed. ’The one who created me and positioned me in the Labyrinth to await your arrival. The entity whose thousand-year plan you’re now executing.’

Rey felt his breath catch despite practiced emotional control.

’What was his name?’

The Prince spoke a word that carried weight beyond normal language, syllables that made reality itself seem to acknowledge their significance.

’Lucifer.’