The world shook as a gash ripped through reality. A presence so vast it made every creature around it tremble, creating a rift in the power struggle on the continent.

  Saint felt it even before it appeared. It was as if the clouds were parted by a great invisible hand, forcing something that hadn't existed before to appear before her. The shadows around her grew restless as the will of a sovereign descended upon the dead earth.

  Hundreds of thousands were wiped out by its first attack. A devastating beam of blood that disintegrated the puppet army like motes of dust, no regeneration saved them as every particle of them was destroyed.

  Even so, the enemy army was far from human. When an attack of such magnitude would have struck terror into the hearts of living beings, those beings only seemed to be filled with even greater jubition. Charging like rampaging beasts, they tore through the walls like an unstoppable wave.

  But the city was not defenseless. From the open portal, a horde of undead creatures of equal or greater size attacked the puppets with palpable fury.

  The carnage was simply brutal. Limbs and blood spilled like a whirlwind of gore. It was a scene straight out of a nightmare, but the worst part was that there was no scream in the air. Only the incessant tearing of flesh.

  For a moment, it seemed that a new battle between immortal armies would erupt, just as in the desert around Ariel's tomb. But this bance was destined to be shattered sooner rather than ter.

  From the mountains, an incessant tremor broke through. What had once been mistaken for the beating of a frightened heart soon became clearer, shaking the world. The footsteps of a dead demigod were drawing closer.

  A colossal hand rose, trying to touch the clouds, only to sm into the rock and drag an immense body hidden among the mountains. It was a great demon, the second guardian to descend upon the world in the chain of nightmares.

  Its appearance was that of a skeleton with only scraps of flesh clinging to its body, moss and dirt clinging to it like a second skin. Only its right arm, head, and torso remained; everything else had long since disappeared. But its power seemed as great as its size.

  Like a walking mountain, it crawled across kilometers in seconds, approaching the great city dwarfed by its size.

  Even so, neither the undead army nor the skin walker seemed to react.

  Saint's senses heightened when she sensed the change in the world. Although the skin walker's presence seemed to somehow affect its surroundings, it was so dispersed that it was difficult to sense it, but the colossal being in front of her had no such problem.

  It was so strange, so difficult to understand. The forces she had once known, ws so familiar they felt a part of her, seemed to be repelled by its mere presence. They weren't like shadows, they weren't like darkness, they weren't like the essence of a soul or anything she had ever felt.

  Yet, even with such an effect that surpassed any mortal, it wasn't the presence of that great demon that made Saint tremble the most; it was the rising anger of a sovereign. Not from fear, not from emotion, but from an innate response of her soul.

  The world turned red as a second bolt of blood shot out of the portal, rger, more powerful, more charged with a will that defied the world.

  Mountains erupted for miles around as the creature's skull was directly impacted. The sizzling sound of melting bone was heard throughout the area as the towering creature fell in slow motion to the cold ground.

  That creature capable of exterminating countries had been eliminated by a single attack. A testament to its ruler's power.

  On the city walls, among the civilian shelters, among the ranks of the Awakened, everyone shouted with joy and jubition, shedding tears of fervor at the attack of their own deity.

  Almost instantly, a hail of artillery fire and awakened powers rained down upon the skinwalker army. The Saints, Sailent Stalker, Beastmaster, and even other unknown Saints finally appeared on the front line to destroy any enemy who tried to sneak past the defenses.

  Saint watched all this intently, focusing all her attention on capturing all the information from that confrontation. Her disembodied form, hidden between the Weaver's mask and the deepest shadows, seemed to falter in the face of this dispy of power; but he soon forced himself to continue watching, learning.

  She knew that, no matter how powerful she was as an ascended terror, she was only a drop in the ocean of true power in those nds. So, if she wanted to become the most perfect failure, she had to grow, grow beyond any of her brothers, beyond any being who had ever walked the earth.

  Despite her words, she couldn't help but feel frustrated. Even watching the exchange between two high-ranking beings, she still couldn't comprehend what she saw. Like an ant observing a wall, she couldn't reach what y behind it.

  Worse still, that presence emanating from the sovereign seemed to recede, as if he no longer needed to show more to end the situation. Then she felt it. It was a call, a feeling; an idea.

  Not coming from anyone outside, but from her own shadow; the shadow of her former master.

  The way she communicated with the shadows linked to her was different from that of other beings. Being part of her soul, they didn't need words to understand each other. A single thought would suffice.

  So that her shadows would understand her intentions, and in turn, she could sense what her shadows wanted.

  Because of this, she instantly understood her shadow's intention and wasted no time in applying it. Extending her senses beyond what was prudent, she began to examine the Queen of Song's army, her awakened warriors, the Saints fighting on the front lines, and, above all, that rift in the world, where the heart of the sovereign's domain existed.

  Instantly, an avanche of information rushed at her. Although she was used to dealing with rge amounts of information at once, the chaotic field and the presence of a higher-ranking being's will stressed her mind, but that was okay; she wouldn't have to do this alone.

  Allowing both the soul serpent and her master's shadow to share the burden, she focused on filtering and analyzing what she perceived.

  While her shadows and she were one and the same, they were also different individuals. Their ranks might be linked, but not their csses, much less their thoughts.

  So, she took advantage of this.

  The shadow of her master, ever-changing, cunning, and with a connection to the shadows greater than anyone's. She could sense things beyond her ordinary senses, as if she retained a connection to the world and the strings of destiny.

  The soul serpent, a creature she barely knew, but whose ability to wield the soul and everything reted to it was already proven. It had allowed her to fight using her own soul as a shield and to take her already perfect control of essence to a level beyond what was possible.

  And she herself, created by the hand of a demon in pursuit of perfection. She was able to adapt to any situation in seconds in a methodical and firm manner. With her connection to darkness and shadows, nothing seemed to be hidden from her examining eyes. But above all, it was this ever-growing connection to her divinity that made her special, even among beings of the past.

  Each possessed extraordinary abilities to perceive more than any other, but it was Weavel's eyes that made the difference. Able to look directly into the souls of living beings, her ability to unravel the truth was immense, perhaps surpassed only by that seer...

  For a moment, Saint felt her concentration falter, but she soon regained control and focused on what was before her.

  The chaos of battle, the spilled blood, the consumed soul essence, and the shades dying alongside their masters.

  She could feel it, a presence, an alien force imbued the bodies of the undead. But not only there; among the mundane, the awakened, and the ascended, a simir connection It seemed to unite with them. Like the roots of a tree, the external presence seemed to grow and take shape over the world.

  Oh, but it was among the transcendent where she could most notice that difference. Their bodies, their shadows, their souls, and their destinies seemed to subtly intertwine before an invisible force. She couldn't see it, not even with eyes that had once glimpsed destiny, but she could feel its effects as if a well-maintained machine were suddenly tilted in another direction.

  She breathed deeply, feeling a surge of joy. A hint, a change, something in her soul resonated with that sensation, wanting to overcome it.

  It was then that the illusion was broken. From the nightmare gate, the heavy presence, hidden in the snowy city, finally looked at her. That force, previously focused on its main enemy, pointed at her for an instant, and in just that moment, a cold panic settled in her body.

  She didn't hesitate; following the path of its shadow, hidden deep underground, it dissolved, disappearing from the pce.

  Moments ter, the presence stopped paying attention to her, but she didn't return. She didn't risk it, because she knew deep down that returning would mean her death.

  Because the presence she felt wasn't just that of a sovereign; it was that of the heir to the god's lineage, a hunter who wouldn't rest until she caught her prey, just as that god had caught her father.