Greed

By the next day, the dark void surrounding them had grown so blisteringly hot that standing on the upper deck felt like stepping into an oven. Sweat clung to their bodies, glistening under the relentless heat as they worked the sails. Most had shed their armor, stripped down to the bare minimum to endure the sweltering air. Divided into shifts, they labored together, keeping the ship afloat and on course.

Klaus alone steered the vessel, hands firm on the oar, guiding it with effortless precision. The others lacked the knowledge to navigate these cursed skies, but for him, it was second nature. His eyes and attributes made piloting through this infernal abyss as easy as breathing.

He knew this place well. The divine flames of the Sun God had once fed Devourer, and through them, Klaus had gained a profound understanding of the abyss's treacherous currents. He charted their descent with practiced ease, spiraling downward toward the Tear—a distant black spot against the incinerating tapestry of furious light.

At first glance, the rift appeared no larger than a pinprick, a void against the roiling inferno. But he knew better. That speck was an enormous wound in the world, deceptively small only due to the vast distance still separating them. They would have to slip through its center, where the divine flames were farthest from their ship. Even a minor miscalculation would see them consumed.

As evening descended, the heat became almost unbearable. The ship plummeted toward the firestorm, sails adjusted for a controlled fall. Klaus remained at the helm, unfazed, his focus unwavering.

Noah, ever resourceful, animated the corpses of airborne nightmare creatures—twisted abominations with rotting wings—to fly ahead of the ship, acting as a living shield. They burned away in the scorching air, but their sacrifice bought precious moments of protection. Meanwhile, Lich worked tirelessly, weaving barriers of pale light, layering enchantments upon the hull to stave off destruction.

The scorching heat lessened ever so slightly, but it was still suffocating, like standing at the edge of a volcano. Klaus steered them into the rift's center, away from the walls of divine fire. The tunnel twisted and shifted, a writhing maw of destruction that moved left and right, forward and back, demanding absolute precision.

Then, at last, the ship breached the other side.

The roaring flames gave way to darkness. The void swallowed them whole, and above, the sky burned like an ocean of molten gold.

Klaus exhaled, letting out an amused chuckle as he guided the vessel toward the looming island ahead.

"Hmm... It's still better to go alone..."

They moored the ship to one of the massive, horizontal stone masts jutting from the island's edge and disembarked. One by one, they crossed the obsidian pillar leading to solid ground, stopping in stunned silence as the bleak landscape unfolded before them.

The Ebony Island had not changed. It remained as Klaus remembered—somber, desolate, eternal. Carved from dark stone, it floated in the void, surrounded by drifting slabs of shattered obsidian. At its center stood a towering pagoda, built of a flawless, lusterless black material that devoured any light daring to touch it.

Ruins of unknown structures dotted the barren surface, their purpose lost to time. Several more obsidian pillars stretched from the island's edges into the abyss, resembling strange, abandoned wharves. Their flying ship now hovered near one, fastened by thick, unyielding chains.

The Nightmare Seed was close. But there was a problem.

The cohort's gaze shifted to the Zakharovs, tension crackling in the air. Sunny, in particular, looked bitter. Having Klaus here was a tremendous advantage—his power undeniable—but… this was his find. Why should he share?

Klaus scoffed, shaking his head as he read the thoughts on Sunny's face like an open book.

"Do you seriously think that seed is yours?" His voice was dry, laced with amusement. "No, buddy. That seed was originally found by me and Mordret. And I don't give a damn about Mordret. I already crushed that maggot, and the Ivory Tower is mine. You are the guests here. So drop the look."

Around them, the Fire Keepers had started setting up camp, making themselves comfortable. Klaus pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation.

"Stop it!"

The gathered warriors paused, glancing at one another in confusion. Cassia stepped forward, arms crossed.

"What is it now?"

Before Klaus could answer, Isaac spoke for him, his tone playful but sharp.

"Hmm… what my dear brother means is that this place isn't yours. And it seems we have a little problem, don't we?"

Cassia's expression hardened. She grabbed Klaus's coat, her eyes cold and unyielding.

"This place is Nephis's. When she returns, it's hers. Do you understand what you're saying?"

Klaus's expression darkened. He shrugged her off effortlessly and leaned in, whispering into her ear.

"I don't care what your visions show you. If fate says this place belongs to someone else, then that alone makes me want to take it for myself—just to spite it." He pulled back, voice low and mocking. "Do you think fate can stop me? Sometimes it wins… but not always. And this... Is my win."

Cassia hesitated. Technically, Klaus had a point. But what she had seen—

She sighed and turned to Sunny.

"Sunny, you found this place. You should decide who—"

Klaus cut her off with cold finality. Hands in his coat pockets, he was already walking ahead.

"I don't care. This tower is mine. End of story. If you want my tower or my seed, then it looks like…"

Isaac finished for him with an amused grin.

"It's time for some violence, hmm?"

The cohort tensed, casting wary glances at the Zakharov brothers.

Sunny sighed. So Cassia's vision said this tower would belong to Nephis? His feelings toward her were complicated. He wanted her back—but at the same time, he wanted her to rot in that godforsaken land. It was confusing. It was painful. That longing for Nephis was like second flaw...

He looked at the Zakharovs with a frown. Three of them—Masters. Not just any Masters, but dangerous ones. And Klaus alone? He could probably kill them all. His skeleton was a Transcendent Tyrant that had fought Saint Cormac on equal footing. So His Lich alone was enough to wipe them out.

So why risk it all?

And technically, Klaus was right. This place was his. Sunny even found those damned scrolls of his here, as well. That alone was enough proof.

Not to mention, Kai said nothing—he didn't call out any lies. That meant Klaus had to be telling the truth.

Having Klaus as an ally was a ridiculous boon… and beyond that—

Sunny studied Klaus, standing there with that cold, defiant gaze. That bastard hated fate as much as he did. He was doing this partly just to spite it?

Now that's something Sunny could respect.

He exhaled sharply and shook his head.

"Fine. Deal. But you help us in the Nightmare."

In the next instant, Klaus was in front of him, hand outstretched.

Sunny hesitated before shaking it. Klaus's grin spread, wicked and gleeful.

"Pleasure doing business."

Klaus surveyed the surroundings with a smile, arms wide in mock pride. His voice dripped with both mockery and self-satisfaction.

"Still… I'm feeling generous. How about I gift you this ancient ship? No need to thank me, of course. What can I say? I'm a magnanimous man."

He chuckled, lighting a cigarette, the smoke swirling in rings as he exhaled with an amused grin.

"But remember this," he added with a glint in his eye, his tone darkening. "I am your savior, your protector in this chapter of your lives. So I suggest you all to remain polite." His expression become murderous and he said with cold smile. "I pity anyone foolish enough to stand against me."

Tatiana chuckled softly, opening the gates of the Ebony Tower. Klaus, Isaac, and Noah followed her inside without hesitation.

Sunny, initially prepared to guide them, found it pointless. Klaus, it seemed, already knew the tower's interior better than anyone else.

Klaus led them into the tower's shadowy halls, ascending level after level. Tatiana, Noah, Effie, and Kai followed closely, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Isaac, on the other hand, was carefree, his movements unhurried, unfazed by the eerie surroundings. Cassia, however, grew pale as they ascended to the second level—where the harrowing remnants of a god's severed arm had once rotted—but she said nothing.

The Hall of Runes, however, was far more daunting. The others, guided by Sunny and Klaus, kept their eyes tightly shut, but Cassia, being blind, couldn't shield herself from the terrifying energy that emanated from the runes. Her senses, heightened to an unnatural degree, were both a gift and a curse. Still, her mental resilience allowed her to endure. Teeth clenched, she pushed through it, unwilling to show any weakness.

Klaus, unaffected by the runes' influence, merely observed the forbidden knowledge with indifference. His affinity for the forbidden, thanks to his Law of Original Sin, allowed him to dismiss it easily.

Finally, they reached the last level, where a stone archway marked the portal's entrance. Sunny summoned his Cruel Sight, ready to activate the portal, but Klaus stopped him. Sunny shot him a confused look.

"This is necessary to activate the portal. Don't you know that?"

Klaus met his gaze with a blank stare, unimpressed. "Of course, I know. But Cruel Sight? It's inefficient." He raised his hand, summoning Devourer. The dark energy rippled and coiled around him, forming into the shape of a magnificent white sword—Leviathan.

The pommel of Leviathan was a radiant golden sphere, resembling a miniature sun, celestial fire spiraling around it in faint, wing-like patterns. The grip, smooth and glass-like, revealed faint golden veins pulsing beneath the surface, divine energy flowing like lifeblood. The guard was simple, unadorned, yet elegant. At its center lay a glowing ember-like gemstone, beating like a divine heart, its golden veins extending beyond the hilt to the very edge of the blade. The sword itself was slender, almost delicate—more a work of art than a weapon. Its form flickered between solid and ethereal, shifting at Klaus's will.

Raising Leviathan, he let divine flames pour forth like a river, drowning the stone arch in incandescent fire.

Barely a minute passed before the portal was fully ignited. Klaus didn't bother with manual activation—his mastery over space rendered it unnecessary. He merely raised his hand, forcing the divine flames into an illusory vortex.

In an instant, the surroundings shifted. The dark, oppressive air of the tower was replaced by the tranquil serenity of the Ivory Island. They now stood in the center of a graceful white gazebo, the portal vanishing behind them.

The Ivory Island was a paradise—surreal, peaceful. Slates of shattered marble floated serenely around it. A beautiful meadow stretched near the gazebo, and the soft rustling of tree branches added a sense of tranquility to the air. In the distance, the pagoda—an architectural marvel made of pristine, otherworldly material—stood, its elegance beyond mortal comprehension.

But there was something else: the bones of a massive, long-dead dragon scattered across the ground, its bones reflecting the radiant light of the sun.

They walked past a clear, tranquil lake, moving toward the mouth of the beast's skeleton. As they passed through the dragon's jaws, they entered the solemn darkness of the ancient Hall of Chains.

It was here that Hope had once been bound.

Once inside, the air grew heavy, and the group paused, suddenly overcome by a deep, unnatural fatigue. The chains lay before them on the pristine white floor, seven of them in total, each ending in a shattered, mangled shackle. The runes carved into the shackles were cryptic, complex, a testament to the terrible force that had once held them in place.

A strange, ethereal shimmer rose from the surface of the chains, coalescing into a swirling mass of pure darkness. It pulsed at the center of the hall, a rift in reality itself, one that could consume even light. It wasn't truly darkness—no, this was something far worse: a tear in the very fabric of existence, a void that threatened to swallow all in its path.

While Cassia and her cohort were busy trying to mask their nerves with forced confidence, Klaus stood with his family.

Tatiana pulled him into a tight embrace. If she was being honest, a part of her was worried. Nightmares were unpredictable, ruthless, and far too often, fatal.

"Stay safe, brother. And if those mongrels don't understand, so be it. Maybe everyone knows you, but only we truly understand who you are. I'm sure you'll come back victorious."

Klaus smiled, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Isaac groaned, shaking his head with exaggerated exasperation.

"How many times do we have to do this? Klaus is always on the verge of dying, and then—boom! He finds a way out. Nothing will happen to that wicked bastard."

Klaus chuckled at his sarcasm, shaking his brother's hand before pulling him into a brief hug.

Noah didn't say much—he never did—but his quiet smile spoke volumes. That alone was enough.

As Klaus glanced ahead, he caught sight of Cassia walking away. His lips curled into a grin as he nudged Isaac.

"Isn't she stunning?"

Isaac pretended to consider it for a moment, then smirked.

"She looks even better walking away from you."

Klaus's smile vanished instantly. He sighed, ruffling Isaac's hair with deliberate roughness.

"Alright, I'm off. Peace, assholes."

Without another word, Klaus strode toward the chains. A few moments later, he was gone.

And with him, the hall of chains disappeared.

Klaus found himself standing in an abyss of absolute darkness. There was no sound, no light—only nothingness stretching infinitely in every direction.

Then, the Spell's voice boomed through the void, a force rather than a sound.

[Awakened! Prepare for your Second Trial…]

Klaus frowned as the voice thundered again, reverberating in the depths of his mind.

[Six brave ones… welcome to the Nightmare!]

The suffocating darkness began to shift, twisting, reshaping into something else. Something different.

Klaus exhaled sharply, his lips curling into a dark smile.

"That fucking parasite…"