Chapter 47: Hollow Black
"The strongest?" Niel repeated, uncertain about the label. Plenty of people knew about demons, demon heirs, even the great heroes — so why would anyone call her the strongest when demons alone had caused calamities of that scale?
Unless she was also a fully realized authority user. That was the only explanation that made sense to him. Cael must have caught the confusion on his face, because he sighed and answered anyway. "She has five unique skills. First one on record, ever."
"Five? That’s even possible?" Niel muttered, already running through what he’d witnessed — Infinity Barrier, Divine Healing, Attraction and Repulsion, that much he’d confirmed himself. Which left two more she’d kept hidden, and he found himself wondering why she hadn’t pulled either out during either fight.
"It’s unheard of," Cael said. "She’s the first. And honestly? Terrifying."
Niel studied him for a beat. He’d agreed to keep secrets between the Sinners, but if she was strong enough to make a hero of Cael’s caliber genuinely wary, she was a variable he needed to account for. He decided then and there — he’d learn every one of her abilities before she ever got the chance to use them against him.
Cael had already scooped up the dragon’s wing and started for the door. Without looking back, he added, "Thanks for the help, Niel. Hope our paths cross again."
Before he reached it, Niel called out. "Sir Cael — one question, if you don’t mind?"
Cael paused at the door and turned, tilting his head slightly, a silent go-ahead.
Niel cleared his throat. "If she really has five unique skills like you said — is there one I should be especially careful of? In case we ever end up on bad terms."
Cael considered him for a moment. "It’s a fair possibility, given how unpredictable she can be. I can’t explain all of her abilities — I don’t fully understand them myself — but there’s one she barely ever uses."
He let the pause stretch before continuing. "Take this seriously. If you ever end up on her bad side and hear her say ’Hollow Black’ — do yourself a favor and run. Don’t try to block it. And if you’ve got anything that can cover real distance in a heartbeat, that’s the moment to use it."
He gave a small smile, then turned and walked out, leaving Niel standing there, turning the words over.
"Hollow Black."
He murmured it long after Cael had gone, recalling that Cael himself carried a skill called Supreme Shield — one that had held up through more battles than Niel could count back in their old life together. If even Cael was calling something unblockable, then Teleportation was going on standby every time they met from here on, no exceptions.
After a while lost in thought, he finally stepped out of the building, stretching by the doorway, only then realizing how long it had been since a proper bath — nothing here matched the spring back in the demon realm.
Once outside, he squinted up at the blazing sun and murmured to himself, "Wonder if Warstone even has a spring anywhere."
The question lingered longer than he expected before he sighed and turned toward the heart of the city.
---
At the Grand Cathedral, Cael carried the dragon’s wing through the entrance while a small crowd gathered outside, watching in awe as he brought it in.
He set it down in the main hall, then continued deeper into the cathedral, into the chamber with the five curtains. He bowed the moment he stepped inside.
"She completed the task, your lordship."
"Are you certain of that?" the curtain ahead — the Supreme Saint — asked.
"I brought the wing as proof. Beyond that, she’s efficient. I can vouch for her."
Silence held for a moment before the Supreme Saint spoke again. "If you’re certain, the Order has no reason to doubt it. Very well. Has payment been settled? And have you heard anything from the other adventurer we sent previously?"
Cael weighed his answer for a second. He could’ve dodged the question entirely, saved himself the explanation for why he’d never asked Niel about the delay — but he’d carried enough lies over the past year that, for the first time, the thought of piling on another one scared him.
"Payment’s been made, and the earlier adventurer is alive, your lordship," he said instead. "It seems he was rescued by the one who ultimately killed the dragon. I don’t have the full picture — they returned together."
"Is that so?" the Supreme Saint asked.
"Yes, your lordship." Cael kept his eyes on the floor, hoping his guess had landed close enough to the truth.
Another pause stretched before the voice finally said, "If that’s all, you’re dismissed."
Cael bowed and turned to leave.
---
The moment the door closed behind him, silence held a beat longer before the voice nearest the Supreme Saint’s right — the King — spoke.
"Does that settle the dragon matter?"
"It should," the curtain beside him answered, a woman’s voice. Umar.
Before anyone could settle on that, another voice cut in from the far left, furthest from the Supreme Saint. "My brother’s alive. I can feel it."
A woman’s voice, calm, cold, more detached than the rest of them combined. Silence held again, longer this time, until the Supreme Saint finally broke it.
"Are you saying they failed to kill the dragon — or that Cael lied to us?"
The voice let out a short laugh. "I doubt he’d lie to us outright. More likely, whoever he sent had a change of heart mid-fight, or they were simply careless with the job."
"Then what would you have us do?" Umar asked.
The voice nearest the left of the Supreme Saint — Cronos — spoke next. "I think it’s time we handle this ourselves. We can’t keep relying on human incompetence. Your secret stays buried regardless — let the adventurers take the fall if it ever comes to that."
"Agreed," the woman’s voice beside him said. "And this time, I’d like to handle it personally. It’s been a while since I last saw him."
"Any objections?" the Supreme Saint asked. After a long stretch of silence, he added, "Very well. Do as you see fit."
A faint smile colored her reply. "I will."
---
Elsewhere in the kingdom, in the restaurant kitchen, Luna — her hair now dyed red — moved through her closing routine, scrubbing down the counters as the last of the day wound to a close.
Then the shop owner walked in, beaming.
"Hey, Luna. Got some big news for you."
Luna set the dishes down and wiped her hands. "You look thrilled, Mr. Fisher. Win the lottery or something?"
He pulled a chair over and sat across from her, sliding two sealed letters across the counter. "Better than that — thanks to your cooking, actually—"
He nodded for her to open the first one. She did, and her eyes widened as she read. "We— we’ve been chosen to run the princess’s birthday feast? How?"
"All thanks to your skill in that kitchen. Word of our food reached the king himself," Mr. Fisher said, then gestured toward the second letter before she could ask anything further. She reached for it slowly and opened it.
Her eyes went even wider. He’d recommended her personally to the king as master chef, and she’d been granted a position as royal chef. She looked up at him, stunned — he could easily have kept the credit for himself, made her work under his name indefinitely, and instead he’d handed the whole thing straight to her.
"But — why?" she managed, voice cracking, tears threatening at the edges. It was the kindest thing anyone had done for her since Velroth.
Mr. Fisher smiled. "You gave my business everything you had, and because of it, I’ve made more in these last few days than the last decade combined. I owe you this."
Luna clutched the letter to her chest, a smile breaking through as tears slipped free. She’d been wondering how she’d ever claw her way to the kind of power her revenge would demand — and somehow, fate had simply handed it to her.
She lifted the letter again, and her thoughts drifted back to Velroth. Dan. The girls. Every warm memory of Niel, every promise he’d made her — all of it shattered the moment an imposter had slipped into her home wearing his face. She’d stayed quiet, trying to keep it buried while she hunted for answers, and that silence had cost her everything.
And now, for whatever reason, fate had remembered her again — handed her a real chance to rebuild. She wouldn’t waste a second of it. And once she’d climbed high enough, her revenge would begin in earnest.
She looked back at Mr. Fisher, her smile lingering, then lowered her gaze to the letter in her hands. Her grip tightened around the worn paper, and within her chest, a new resolve kindled. She knew, deep down, that the road ahead would demand more cunning, more patience, more sacrifice. But this was the first step. And with that, she murmured to herself:
"Soon. Very soon. I’ll find you."