Erwin nodded. "How pathetic. Once mighty gods, now reduced to this."
The Lunar Sovereign showed no anger; a faint smile crossed her ethereal face instead. "Yes, utterly pathetic. Perhaps this is our fate, our destined end. Who could have foreseen that even gods are mere pieces on the board?"
Erwin pressed, "I refuse to believe you lacked a contingency. You may be detached from mortal concerns, but surely others foresaw this."
The Lunar Sovereign replied, "That's beyond my knowledge. You've grilled me with questions—surely I deserve one in return?"
Erwin smirked. "You want to know my decision?"
She nodded. "Indeed. I'd give anything to hear your choice."
He chuckled. "Worried your plan might unravel?"
"Deeply," she admitted. "Your path shapes everything. All but I await your move."
"Then let them wait," Erwin said coolly. "I'm not about to spill it to you."
The Lunar Sovereign's form shimmered. "After this, I'll fade. No chance to witness the end."
Erwin's voice hardened. "I owe you nothing. Your fate isn't my burden, and neither is satisfying your curiosity. Don't fool yourself—you were never my ally. If you weren't already gone, you'd have fallen to me in the end."
Silence hung between them for a moment.
She sighed. "I understand your rage. I'd feel the same. But trust me, we had no alternatives. And it costs you nothing, does it?"
Erwin sneered. "Whether it costs me is for me to judge."
Her gaze softened as she met his eyes. "Very well, I apologize. This wasn't my doing; I hold no power to choose otherwise."
"I know," Erwin conceded. "That's why I can speak civilly with you now, Lunar Sovereign. You're benevolent—I see that clearly, and I've never held you accountable. But we've never stood together."
"I know," she whispered.
With that, her figure rose, drifting into the night sky. She gazed over the landscape one last time. "Look at this world—how breathtaking it is. For eons, I've wandered the moonlight, sensing every corner through its glow, watching it flourish into something grand. I hate to leave it behind. Erwin... if you can, spare this land harm. Please."
Erwin said nothing.
She hadn't waited for an answer anyway. With a final, lingering glance at the realm she cherished, her form dissolved into shimmering motes of moonlight, merging back into the heavens.
Erwin stared after her, murmuring, "But it's not my world."
He steadied himself, then reached up to his forehead, wiping away the faint residue of her lingering essence. In an instant, the divine power binding the Ravenclaw's Diadem vanished.
Rowena Ravenclaw's spirit materialized beside him. "Erwin, where's the Lunar Sovereign?"
"She departed after severing her hold on the Diadem," he explained.
Rowena nodded. "Did you strike some bargain with her?"
He shook his head. "She's a fragment of fragmented Authority, incomplete even now. With that false deity's death, the power returned, but shattered beyond repair. She couldn't offer deals, and I have no desires to fulfill."
"Then let's go," Rowena urged.
Erwin agreed and raised his hand to Apparate—but the Isle of Avalon trembled violently beneath them.
Wisps of mist erupted from the ground, coiling upward like serpents.
Erwin's eyes narrowed. He snapped his fingers sharply.
Nothing happened.
"Apparition's blocked," he said grimly.
Rowena hovered at his side, her spectral form flickering as she assessed the air. She frowned. "Something's amiss. On the Isle of Avalon, magic's faltering entirely. I can still draw on my spiritual essence, but there's no trace of ambient magic left."
"Let's head to the shore," Erwin decided.
They soared toward the coastline, propelled by Rowena's divine levitation since flight charms had failed. Moments later, they touched down at the water's edge.
Erwin froze. The sea was pulling back, exposing wet sand far beyond the tide line.
The Isle of Avalon was drifting.
He exchanged a tense look with Rowena. "The whole island's on the move?"
Erwin felt a flicker of unease. He knew little of the Isle's true nature, though he and the Cavendish crew had once theorized it might shift. Still, this was no subtle drift—it moved like a colossal vessel cutting through the waves.
Rowena, unbound by the isle's anti-flight wards in her ethereal state, rose higher for a better view. Her expression darkened. "Erwin, we're in deep trouble."
He glanced up skeptically.
"It's not circling," she warned. "It's heading straight for the Bermuda Triangle."
Erwin's jaw tightened, but panic didn't grip him. "No escape now. We ride it out until it halts, then test Apparition again. Or we follow its course and take our chances."
Rowena inclined her head in agreement. They had no better option.
The Isle of Avalon pressed onward, slicing into the infamous triangle's domain. Erwin positioned himself at the prow, staring into the gathering gloom. If resistance was futile, why not probe the mysteries ahead? His survival instincts were sharp; amid mounting threats, he'd always prioritized staying alive. And he had contingencies no fog could touch.
As the isle delved deeper, the encircling mist thickened without warning, swallowing the horizon in a gray veil.
Rowena extended a hand, her fingers aglow with faint starlight. She brushed the fog—and recoiled. "This mist... it's consuming spiritual essence?"
Erwin strained to peer through the haze. Then, a sudden glint of blue pierced the murk, catching his eye like a beacon in the void.
...
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