The deaths of the elders hit the pavilion like a shockwave. Their threads severed from the pavilion’s connection, one after the other, like fingers being torn from a hand.

For the first time in a very long time, the doors to the inner sanctum opened.

The spirits in the main hall froze. Every conversation stopped. Every blade was lowered. Every pair of pale eyes turned toward the figure emerging from the depths of the castle.

The pavilion spirit stepped out.

She was unlike the others.

She was tall, standing at nearly six foot seven. Her skin was pale as moonlight, and the outline of the diamond on her forehead burned with white flame. Her long white hair cascaded down her shoulders, reaching her lower back.

The spirits hadn’t seen her leave the inner sanctum in longer than most of them could remember. Her presence alone was enough to make the air in the hall feel heavier, as if the castle itself was holding its breath.

Several spirits stepped forward, mouths opening to ask for orders before they were interrupted by her magnificent voice.

"Stay."

The hall went silent.

She walked through the gates of the pavilion and out into the open air of the floating island. The wind that battered everything else on the island parted around her without touching a single strand of her hair.

The pavilion spirit moved toward the direction where her elders had fallen. Though her expression never changed, the other spirits could feel that beneath her perfect composure, something fierce smoldered.

◇◇◇◇

Moon arrived at the base of the peak and looked up.

The castle loomed above him, its dark towers piercing through the clouds that drifted past the island’s edge. From this close, the pressure radiating from the pavilion was tangible. It pressed against his skin, settled into his bones, whispered to every instinct he had that this was a dangerous place.

A small smile formed on his face, feeling his heart beat faster.

It would have been safer to bring his team. Twenty Evolvers at his back, supporting him, sharing the burden. But Moon chose not to. The benefits from the spirit pavilion would be sharply divided among participants. Experience, spiritual energy, lives. All of it would decrease the more people were involved. And although spirits never provided many lives to begin with, the spiritual energy they carried was irreplaceable.

This was his harvest. He wasn’t sharing it. He needed every little increase of power, the tournament would start officially in two days, and time was running out.

"Time to hunt some spirits."

Moon had no moral conflict about what he was about to do. Whether he killed one spirit or all of them made no difference to his conscience. The Second Sanctuary wasn’t a place for making friends across racial lines. It was a battlefield between all races.

The spirits had been hunting humans since the day the first Evolver set foot on this island. They killed without hesitation, without mercy, without a second thought.

Humans were prey to them. Always had been.

And humans had tried to hunt spirits in return. They had simply never been strong enough to succeed.

Moon came to change that.

Today, the spirit pavilion would fall under his hands. Whether the spirits inside survived or not depended on a single individual.

"The Pavilion Spirit." Moon muttered.

If it yielded, the spirits would live. If it chose arrogance and defiance, they would die. Moon was comfortable with either outcome.

He nudged Mirage forward. The white horse began to climb the peak, his hooves finding purchase on the steep, rocky path. The hydra followed behind, its four heads swaying as it scaled the incline. The Fire Hound kept pace on the opposite flank, flames flickering along its claws.

Followed by eight more beasts at the peak of first star.

At their speed, they would reach the gates within a minute.

♢♢♢♢

"Intruders!"

A spirit at the outer wall spotted them first. It opened its mouth to raise the alarm further.

A bolt of purple lightning struck it in the chest before the second word could leave its throat. The bolt punched clean through, and the spirit dropped from the wall without a sound.

[You have killed the Level 32 Spirit]

[You have gained 50 Lives]

The spirit was too weak in comparison to Moon, clearly a youngling.

Still, the alarm was already out. The single shout had been enough.

Moon didn’t particularly care, you couldn’t exactly attack a whole pavilion in stealth. There was bound to be some noise and ruckus made. Not that it was a bad thing anyways.

Spirits poured from the castle gate, weapons drawn, their pale eyes scanning the path for the threat. What they found was a young man sitting atop a white horse at the foot of their walls, purple lightning crackling in both hands, flanked by a Four-Headed Hydra, a Fire Hound, and eight remaining First Star beasts.

Lightning. Beasts under his command.

It was clear to them, this was the perpetrator who had been killing their kin. The one who had slaughtered their elders. The one the entire pavilion had been searching for.

"Lightning. Controlling beasts." An elder spirit stepped to the front of the group, its blade already drawn, its diamond blazing on its forehead. "It’s you!"

It rushed toward Moon without waiting for the others.

Moon met the elder head-on.

Their blades collided at the gate’s threshold, the impact sending a crack through the stone beneath their feet. Purple lightning surged down Moon’s sword and into the elder’s weapon, but the spirit twisted its blade and deflected the current into the ground.

"Oh? You are not too bad." Moon muttered.

The spirit was fast, faster than the other elders he had killed in the forest.

"But still...you are too weak."

Moon pressed forward with three rapid strikes. The elder struggled against them, but managed to defend. On the fourth exchange, Moon found an opening and struck the spirit in its ribs.

Mirage also slammed into the spirit from the side. The impact knocked it off balance for a single second. Realising their elder was losing, the other spirits immediately tried to help. Rushing towards Moon.