Chapter 44 – The Unwanted Song
Previously… in Chapter 43:
Lumina destroyed the astral cult of death worshippers who had merged into a spiritual community. With her hands, she severed the heads of their leaders. Her heart remained cold. She began visiting the places where she had once been sealed.
---
The sky above Hailmon froze. Mist descended without sound—like an old womb reluctant to release anything into the world. Hailmon was one of the seven seal points. It was here that Lumina's infant body had once been buried alive, beneath the altar of the Temple of Light, bound by seventeen layers of spells and prayers she had never forgiven.
Now the altar lay in ruins. But its curse lingered.
Lumina's steps touched the ancient dust. She did not come with a smile. She came as a memory awakened from being buried too long. One by one, guardian spirits rose, attempting to resist her presence. But they were too fragile before her. She walked past without killing them. They were not enemies, only remnants of old fear.
She descended beneath the altar. The underground chamber still held the old coffin where her body had once been broken. She touched the blackened wood, and traces of her blood remained. Lumina's blood.
Ilior whispered: "We can destroy all that once hurt you."
Lumina remained silent. Her left hand opened the coffin. There was nothing inside. Only invisible wounds. She closed it again.
Then a voice came.
"Lumina."
An old sorcerer stood at the threshold of the corridor. His robe bore the sigil of the old council. His name was Vel Armon, one of the four who had agreed to her sealing.
"It has been too long," he said. "And you have not changed."
Lumina approached with casual steps, as if time itself no longer cared.
"Why have you come?"
Vel Armon lowered his head.
"I wish to ask forgiveness."
Lumina only stared. Then she drew out a small dagger from her cloak—the very blade once used to cut her infant tongue, so she could never utter forbidden incantations.
Vel Armon knelt. "Use this. If it may cleanse me."
Lumina took it and gazed upon its edge. Then she pressed it against her own hand. Blood dripped.
"Cleansing does not always come through death," she said.
Vel Armon wept.
Lumina turned away. She was already beyond vengeance. Yet this was not the end.
---
In another city, magical conflict spread like fire. A sect of flesh-fusers arose. They kidnapped humans and merged them with astral spirits to create weapons.
Lumina entered one of their laboratories. A little girl with three faces stared at her from within a crystal tube. Behind her, sorcerers scribbled formulas.
"Who are you?" one asked.
Lumina did not reply. She shattered all the tubes with a single gesture. The malformed beings did not scream. They only burst into silence.
One scientist tried to flee. Lumina caught him.
"How many did you sacrifice?"
"Two hundred… for research," he stammered.
Lumina stabbed his heart. "One is already too many."
She did not purify him. She killed him.
This time, Ilior did not whisper. He knew: this was Lumina herself.
---
On the fourth night, Lumina came to the third place: Adrasel City—where young magi were trained and monitored. A place that once rejected her for having a "tainted aura." Now it was an academy of prestige. They did not recognize Lumina.
She entered the central hall.
"Summon all who lead," she commanded.
Within an hour, twelve young councilors appeared. They did not know who she was.
"This is no place for complaints," one said.
Lumina's gaze did not falter. "I have not come to complain. I have come to remind."
"Remind us of what?"
"Of arrogance. Of the past. Of the truth you bury."
One smirked. "And who are you?"
Lumina spoke a single name: "Lumina Vessaria."
Silence. Then laughter. They thought her legend, a myth. A spirit meant to remain buried forever.
But when Lumina's body shone and red mist rose into the sky, none laughed anymore.
She spoke their names one by one—and the sins they had concealed: astral manipulation, slaughter of street children, experiments on corpses.
Some tried to flee.
She lifted her hand and touched the air. The earth itself crushed their bones.
Not Ilior who moved. Lumina.
---
That night, the city of Adrasel drowned in crimson mist.
Lumina walked among corpses with a cold, forward gaze. She did not ask to be understood. She only fulfilled what must be done.
Behind her, the world rewrote history. But Lumina did not care to be remembered. She only wished to finish.
And one name remained.
The Central Council. The highest.
The ones who had sealed not only her body… but her fate.