(Lincoln's Pov)
The Tri Continental Academy
I drift above the valley, steady on a cushion of wind-mana. Beside me, Kali's silhouette rides an invisible updraft of my making—long hair whipping like black banners.
Chunk by chunk, mountainside earth yields to my will. Vast rings of stone spiral upward, lock, and fuse. Seven tiers, each one large enough to host a city. Below, rivers in braided patterns I carved for drainage and ward lines. Even from here, the platforms hum: living diagrams of my best theories in earth and gravity.
Kali watches with narrowed eyes. "Humans call this preparation," she teases, voice sliding over the wind. "Demons would call it showing off."
"You've grown fond of human words," I answer, molding an entire forest rim onto Floor Two with a curl of my hand.
"I hate not being at the very top of any command structure," she says. "But… I've learned more emotions bonded to you than I knew existed. You've made me stronger—even though I'm second to you across these continents." Her laugh is half-snarl, half-delight.
I grin. "These tiers will test the best we've got. When they're ready, perhaps I'll let you spar on one of the floors. They deserve to meet real pressure."
Kali lifts a lazy brow. "Say the word."
Nightfall | Dwarven Southern Frontier Camp
The air was cold when I landed.
The war camp was empty—dozens of tents scattered across a scorched plateau, soot still clinging to the canvas. The dwarves had all marched north, answering a diversionary push on the capital.
Perfect.
I stepped into the command tent, stripped off my cloak, and lay down on the cot with a groan. My sword rested beside me. For once, I wanted quiet. A single hour of it.
Kali waited beside me, silent as stone.
Then I heard boots.
Crunching softly over gravel. Quiet voices—low, guttural, arrogant.
"—left it completely unguarded."
"Dwarves never could tell the difference between a real push and a fake one."
"Idiots. The capital isn't even the real target."
I rose without a sound.
"…these tents are warm."
"…commander's cot still used."
A clawed hand reached for the flap of the command tent.
I opened it for him.
The devil blinked. "Wha—?"
I stepped out into the night, arms relaxed at my sides. The devil stumbling back to his group.
"Unfortunately," I said, voice calm, "the dwarves already asked someone to watch the place. Just until they return."
All thirty devils froze.
"The hell?" one muttered. "That's—"
"Lincoln?" another hissed. "What the—he's supposed to be at the capital—"
Their panic stiffened when a far larger figure stepped out from behind the tents.
Seven feet tall. Armor engraved with devil-royal markings. His mana burned like smoke and acid.
A general.
He strode past the others without a word and stopped a few paces from me, staring down with slitted red eyes.
"Where's Kali?" he asked.
I pointed behind me. "Tent's still warm. She's under my command now."
"You're not keeping her," he snapped. "She's not yours."
"She is," I replied. "Bonded. And not interested in running back to the old regime."
He growled. "You'll die for this."
I sighed. "See, I was hoping to just lie down. Maybe think. But now you're here, and I've got to clean up."
He snarled, muscles tensing. "You still think this is a joke, human?"
"No," I said with a shrug. "I just don't take threats from weaker men seriously."
One of the devils shouted, "Kill him!"
The general raised a hand. "I will."
I held up a finger. "Wait."
Everyone stopped.
"…Why?" the general asked warily.
"Just curious," I said, glancing to the side. "Do you realize all your men are already dead?"
He blinked. "What?"
And then they collapsed.
All thirty devils—slashed apart by wind-blades that had already passed through them. I hadn't even needed to stand up straight.
The general looked around, stunned. "That—that's not possible. No one is that fast—"
"I'm fast enough," I said.
He roared, mana boiling into purple clouds around him. "Poison Finalis Enraged Rot!"
The air turned heavy with corruption. Black veins spread across his skin. A chitinous shell of poison-hardened mana clung to him like armor.
"Touch me now," he hissed, "and even you'll rot from the inside."
"A Finalis, how interesting…we humans have learned to only use that as a last measure. You must be real desperate to win against me."
He surged forward—faster, sharper, stronger than anything from before.
I tapped the ground lightly. A shockwave cracked the dirt beneath his feet. He stumbled—just long enough for me to send a concentrated windburst that launched him halfway across the mountain.
I followed, riding the wind with a single thought.
He landed in the scrub of devil territory—no buildings, no dwarves, no camp to break.
Good.
He rose slowly, coughing blood.
"Not taking me seriously will be your downfall, Lincoln!"
I landed lightly across from him, drew my sword, and smiled.
"It'll be fine…I mean," I said, "you're kind of weak."
"BASTARD!" he lunged—
—and my blade pierced his heart.
Fast. Final.
He stopped. Choked. Shivered. Then collapsed forward.
I crouched by the body, feeling the final flickers of mana leaking out. He was strong. Very strong. Rank 1, possibly even close to someone like Aethon.
But not close enough.
"Would've been a nice fight if he didn't talk so much," I muttered.
I stood up, dusted my cloak, and looked toward the camp.
"Kali," i said trough our bond, "you could've helped, you know."
Her voice echoed dryly.
"You didn't command me."
I grinned. "Just checking if you remembered the rules."
"Unfortunately, I do."
She sighed—dramatic and unimpressed.
I turned back toward the quiet horizon. The sky glowed faintly with the mana lines from the platforms I'd raised. Soon they'd be filled with the strongest talents the continents could offer.
And if this was what the devils were sending now?
They would be ready.
I turned back toward the horizon, watching the faint rise of mana light over the distant stonework tiers.
Then—
Pressure.
A spike of weight like the sky collapsing, here one second, and the next—
Crack.
A punch slammed into my barrier, fists wrapped in condensed gravity so dense the air whined around it.
My arms snapped up. Mana surged. I caught it—barely. Not with finesse, not with posture. Just raw reinforcement. A double-layered wind shell, reinforced with earth-anchoring beneath my boots.
Still, I went flying.
Not tumbling. Not off-balance.
Just blown back by the force.
Fifty meters. Maybe more.
I landed in a crouch. Slid three paces through rocky dirt. The mountain cracked beneath me in a neat, smoking furrow. Dust bloomed.
My cloak fluttered down around me.
I stood, brushing off my shoulder slowly. No injury.
But if I'd been half a second slower?
I would've been hurt…for the first time ever.
I looked up.
A figure stood between two corpses at the edge of camp, tapping their foot.
No armor. No sword.
He twirled once in place, arms slightly spread like a stage actor taking in applause.
"Yesss," he said, voice light and lilting with a faint lisp. "You really do live up to the stories."
He looked like a noble child who wandered into a warzone.
Long blond hair whipped behind him. His clothes shimmered—not enchanted robes, but high-thread civilian wear. Casual. Too casual.
His eyes…
They were wrong.
Not red like most devils. Not black. Just… color. Swirling, unstopping color. A slow spiral of shifting hues like oil on water, like someone took a rainbow and shattered it across his irises.
I tilted my head. "If that was a general I just took out…"
I flexed my fingers once.
"…who the hell are you?"
The devil tilted his head in return, mirroring me. "Aww. That's cute."
He bowed—not deeply. Just enough to mock the gesture.
"I'm Sephtis," he said brightly. "And I've been very, very excited to meet you."
Another slow, unnecessary spin of his heel. Almost like he was trying to pirouette on top of a battlefield.
I took him in. No gauntlets. No crest. No command sigils. But his mana…
Unstable. Massive. Refined.
It didn't roar like the general's. It hummed. Whispered. Threads of folded gravity coiled around his limbs and vanished just as quickly.
This wasn't corrosion, or mutation, or raw rot. This was controlled—matured power.
Ætherbound.
"You pack quite the punch," I said, stepping out of the crater I'd carved. "Mind telling me how you got so strong?"
Sephtis grinned and raised a single hand, as if showing off a manicure.
"Well, I've always been gifted," he cooed. "But our Æther spirit gave us a little… push. Right over the edge."
I said nothing, watching the way his fingers moved—each twitch light, delicate, but exact.
"So," he added, "why not try and kill the only person who could stop someone like me?"
Of course.
So they had one too.
Their continent bonded to a spirit. Same principle.
Made sense. If every continent got a vessel, theirs would have tapped into it the same way we had. Question was—how many had they bound?
I turned that over in my head, slow and silent.
We kept it to five. That was the limit where no one burned out. The power didn't thin too much, but didn't overwhelm either. Any more than that, and mana density started eating people from the inside.
If they were smart, they'd have done the same.
Which meant…
I can take him.
Sephtis cocked his head. "Not much of a talker, are you?"
"I just think before I speak."
His lips curled into something more foxlike than human.
I stepped forward once.
"Well," I said, "I'm not Ætherbound."
He blinked. "Ooh. Then this match will be even more fun."
I smiled faintly, tightening my grip on the hilt at my side.
"Let's find out."
He still hadn't drawn a weapon.
Sephtis just stood there, smiling with those oil-slick eyes—like the fight hadn't started, like we were just warming up.
That alone told me everything I needed.
He was playing.
Kali.
I sent the command through the bond—sharp and quiet.
"Left flank. One kick. I'll finish him."
Her presence moved instantly, flowing beneath the ground, then disappearing completely into shadow. A hunter's silence. No flash of mana. Not even the air shifted.
I stepped forward, loud enough to cover her exit.
"You ever actually use that strength," I asked, drawing his attention, "or do you just dance around hoping someone applauds?"
Sephtis laughed, delicate and amused, like I'd just complimented his shoes.
Then Kali surged up behind him—clean, perfect motion. One foot already drawn back, ready to shatter bone.
His hand snapped out.
Faster than I could see.
He caught her by the throat.
Like he knew.
Kali gasped, boots scraping the ground as he lifted her off it effortlessly. Her eyes widened—not in pain.
In recognition.
"Hey there, Princess Kali," Sephtis cooed. "Long time no see. Remember me?"
I felt the bond spike—panic.
"Lincoln," she choked out. "Retreat."
The word froze the air between us.
"This is one of the four," she hissed, clawing at his grip. "He's been raised to kill you."
Sephtis rolled his eyes, disappointed.
"Ugh. Boring. Instantly telling."
He tightened his grip—and threw her.
Her body hit the cliffside with a shattering crack. A third of the mountain came loose. Entire slabs of reinforced wardstone tore free.
I was on top of the debris before it fell.
One step—kick.
The entire boulder launched downward like a meteor. Sephtis blinked up at it and stepped aside—casual, like dodging a falling leaf.
But I was already there, in front of him.
Feet on the ground. Sword out.
I slashed.
He twisted—barely. But it wasn't enough. My edge caught him across the ribs, slicing through fabric and skin. No armor to block it.
A line of blood painted the dirt behind him.
I landed, pivoting, blade already pulled back for the second strike.
Sephtis just stood there.
Grinning.
A trickle of blood ran down his side. He looked down at it—fascinated. Like it was the first time he'd ever bled.
"…Oh wow," he breathed. "You really are fast."
He raised a finger, spinning it lazily. "I totally understand how you were able to bond Kali so effortlessly."
His gaze flicked toward the cliff where she still lay, groaning beneath rubble.
"Have you had a taste of her yet?" he asked, tone lilting. "I'm sure a royal devil would fulfill your pleasures quite well."
I didn't even blink.
"I don't use my bonds for useless activities."
I raised my blade—fully now. No distraction. No trick.
"Now arm yourself."
I pointed the tip at his throat.
"This will be the last time you fight. Trained to kill me? Let's see how your destiny fails you."
Sephtis clapped. Clapped.
One soft, polite burst of sound.
"Whatever you say…"
His smile spread wider. Too wide.
"…strongest human."
Sephtis twirled on one heel, humming to himself.
Then, with a lazy reach over his shoulder, he pulled something from his back.
A scythe.
It unfolded with a sound like tearing silk—long, elegant, razor-thin. The crescent blade shimmered unnaturally in the moonlight, warping reflections around its edge. He spun it once, letting the haft slide through his fingers.
Playful.
Like he didn't think I'd move.
So I did.
Lightning sparked beneath my boots.
Dash.
I was in front of him before the air caught up—sword slashing up in a clean arc, cutting deep. The scythe twisted—too slow.
His arm hit the dirt.
Blood sprayed.
Sephtis stumbled back, wide-eyed. "Oh—!"
He looked down at the stump, almost… curious. Like he hadn't considered it could happen.
And then, without hesitation—
It grew back.
Flesh knit. Bone snapped into place. Muscle curled and regrew in a smooth spiral. Veins pulsed to life, and fingers flexed before the last drop of blood hit the ground.
I didn't move.
That's not normal.
Even Kali, with all her royal blood and bond enhancements, couldn't regenerate more than a hand without draining herself. And even that took time.
This wasn't healing.
This was instant.
Effortless.
Wrong.
Sephtis shook his new hand out like he'd just woken it up from a nap. "Damn, Lincoln. That was fast."
He grinned, genuine, unbothered.
"This is fun."
I didn't press the advantage. I could've. But something Kali said rang in my head again.
One of the Four.
And now?
Now he was showing me why.
"You're not going all out," Sephtis said suddenly, lazily spinning the scythe behind his back like a toy baton. "You can't. Because if you did…"
He motioned toward the shattered mountain ridge where Kali lay unconscious beneath stone.
"…you'd risk killing her."
His smile soured, just a little.
"That's your weakness, Lincoln. You're so strong, you can't swing at full speed without breaking the world around you. And you don't want to break things, do you? Not even a useless devil princess her own father left behind."
"Be quiet," I said.
Sephtis blinked.
I kept my voice calm. Even.
"How do you think you'd do against the Devil King?"
His face shifted, just slightly. Like I'd said a name most wouldn't dare speak aloud.
Then, casually: "Oh, him? He's amazing. His time magic is…" He tilted his head back with a reverent sigh. "Beautiful. It's how we found a new continent across the sea."
He paused.
Eyes twitched.
"…Oops. Wasn't supposed to say that."
My pulse froze.
Time magic.
A myth.
Even more impossible than Annabel's space-bending. Just stories whispered by old scholars who never left their libraries.
And yet, this devil said it like it was real.
Like it was routine.
Sephtis smirked again, unbothered. "But yes, Lincoln. I don't think you're the strongest living being right now."
He raised a finger. "Maybe third."
Then he vanished.
Light flickered—air cracked—
CLANG.
His scythe hit my sword in a burst of sparks.
He showed why i couldn't underestimate him.
I pushed.
His smirk slipped.
"Huh—?"
I grabbed him by the hair. A hard pull—
My sword pierced straight through his gut.
He gasped—blood bubbling up his throat.
And I threw him.
He flew like a meteor—crashing through trees, boulders, and hills until he vanished somewhere across the devil continent, just a distant smear of impact.
I didn't wait.
Wind cracked underfoot. I shot back toward Kali, still pinned.
She was barely breathing. Her body limp beneath a massive slab of stone. I ripped it away, caught her before she hit the ground.
Still alive.
Good.
I moved—fast—riding a jet of reinforced wind, back over the mountain. Back to the frontier.
I landed hard, stone shattering beneath me.
The war camp was still empty. Not one guard in sight.
Every dwarf had been called north, toward the capital.
I was alone.
And this border?
Completely undefended.
I walked into the command tent, Kali still unconscious in one arm. My free hand summoned an old spell-threaded quill and a blank parchment.
I wrote.
"Southern front compromised. One of the Four appeared. Elite devil combatant, Ætherbound. Immediate redeployment required."
"I am leaving. I need audience with my king. This concerns global war."
I sealed it. Used the last of the dwarven field relay magic to send it north—straight to the High Council.
Kali stirred faintly in my arms. I looked down.
Still breathing.
But barely.
I turned toward the window flap, eyes narrowing at the horizon.
Sephtis might not be stronger than me but…
If that was just one of the Four?
Then what were the other three like?
And how far had they already gotten across the sea?