Elsewhere
Azeroth's brows scrunched as he skimd the latest report flickering across the floating holographic screen.
"The Ancient One has arrived in the Underworld… accompanied by Pleiades… to observe a Rating Ga?"
Azeroth's expression barely changed, but his fingers paused mid-air.
That was enough.
He reached slowly into his coat and pulled out a small tallic trinket—shaped like a keychain, tiny enough to be mistaken for a charm. But its surface was engraved with a micro-circuit of runes, each one pulsing faintly.
With a quiet exhale, Azeroth pressed the hidden button.
The keychain clicked
A pulse of violet light seeped between his fingers.
The signal had been sent.
🔹🔹🔹
Nazarick – 9th Floor
The dimly lit chamber barely qualified as a "room" in the traditional sense. Reinforced steel-like walls made of magical alloys, anti-teleportation fields humming constantly, and four layers of continuous suppression magic ensured that Throximus, no matter how powerful, remained contained.
Or so everyone believed.
Throximus sat cross-legged in the center of the floor, eyes closed, as if ditating. His massive fra resembled a coiled dragon held motionless by invisible chains. His power was terrifying—yet suppressed by Nazarick's overwhelming authority.
But then—
—tchink—tchink—tchink—
One of his molars vibrated.
His eyelids snapped open instantly.
For the first ti since his confinent, a razor-sharp grin split his face.
"…So. It's ti."
He stood up in a single fluid motion—silent, predatory. Then before the watching Homunculus Maids could react properly, Throximus did sothing unthinkable.
He shattered the door with a single punch.
The supposedly unbreakable barrier tore apart like paper, chunks of enchanted tal scattering across the corridor.
"P-please halt—!"
One maid tried to activate the floor-wide alarm crystal—
But Throximus's fingers moved faster than sight.
A wave of compressed magic pulsed out from his palm, invisible yet absolute. A barrier snapped into existence around the entire corridor like a do.
The maid gasped as her voice suddenly disappeared.
The alarm crystal flickered but produced no sound.
Everything was muted.
Their faces twisted in panic.
Throximus didn't even spare them a glance.
"I have no quarrel with you children," he murmured, voice dripping with amusent. "But ti is scarce."
He blurred.
Literally.
A burst of wind swept past the maids as Throximus accelerated, his footsteps cracking the marble floor beneath him. He shot down the hallway at a speed no ordinary senses could track, heading deeper into the 9th floor—
The Ancient One's Workshop.
He reached the massive reinforced door and pushed it open effortlessly. Inside, the room felt like a frozen library—there where lot of books and so may unfinished artifacts. And there, standing motionless in the center, was what he ca for:
A gigantic, golem-like construct, plated in obsidian steel and runic markings—one of Arthur's dormant heavy guardians.
Throximus exhaled in relief.
"There you are."
He crouched for one second—only long enough to peel a thin, rune-inscribed sticker from beneath the sole of his shoe. He slapped it firmly onto the golem's thigh.
The mont the sticker adhered, a glowing magic circle expanded outward across the construct's armor.
WMMMMMMM—!
Teleportation magic activated instantly.
The golem vanished in a flash of white light.
Throximus reached into his pocket for the second sticker—his escape route—
But the air behind him snapped violently.
BOOM!!!
The door to the room blasted open with enough force to crater the wall.
Albedo and Aurora stord in.
Albedo's eyes blazed with murderous rage.
Aurora's wings unfolded, light crackling around her fingers.
"THROXIMUS!" Albedo roared. "You dare—"
He didn't even turn.
He simply murmured, "Too slow."
He attempted to slap the second sticker onto his arm—
But Albedo was already there.
Her knee slamd into his spine.
Aurora's chains of light wrapped around his arms.
Throximus was forced down, pinned instantly, and Albedo took the stickers from Throximus's hand.
"You will explain," she hissed, "EVERYTHING."
Throximus only chuckled darkly.
"Sorry… but the first act has already begun."
His grin widened.
"And the Ancient One? He's already too late."
🔹🔹🔹
Back in the Underworld's VIP viewing area, Arthur's gaze drifted across the arena—until a soft ping echoed in his mind.
A silent ssage.
From Albedo.
Arthur's expression shifted instantly. His relaxed posture straightened, the faint smile vanishing as his eyes narrowed.
Sirzech, who had been chatting amiably with him monts before, stopped mid-sentence.
"…Arthur? Is sothing the matter?"
Arthur didn't answer imdiately.
"Nothing dangerous." Arthur finally said, voice calm but firm. "But I need to return to Nazarick. Imdiately."
Sirzech recognized the tone. He didn't push further.
Arthur rose to his feet.
"Pleiades."
At his call, all six maids and Sebas appeared behind him in perfect formation.
Without another word, Arthur's hand sliced through the air—
A ripple of space folded around them—
And in an instant, Arthur and the Pleiades vanished from the Underworld, reappearing within the towering halls of Nazarick.
❌❌❌
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