The Night that (16): The Human faced God…
I’m late by… 5 days. I really didn’t want to, but I had to rewrite this chapter and the next one for one reason: I thought they were bad. They conveyed something that wasn’t what I wanted to express.
I always try to maintain a certain level of writing for the readers, so whenever I feel it’s below expectations, I rewrite the chapter until it’s good.
I like how they turned out now.
Well, I won’t drag this on. Wishing everyone a good Blood Moon and a good read!
(P)(A)(T)/CalleumArtori
[...]---[...]
In the royal palace, just moments after the Shadow Puppet vanished.
The atmosphere seemed to grow instantly warmer the moment the dark figure disappeared. Paradoxically, the heat—something that should have been a sign of safety—brought with it a feeling that was quite the opposite.
The cold surrounding the human’s shadow had been like a snowstorm, keeping danger at bay.
Dylan couldn’t help but recall a phrase he had read once in an old book, written by a psychiatrist who specialized in working with contractors.
The sentence sprang to his mind:
Sometimes, a frozen madness can keep you from the cozy warmth of the end. But between these two choices, no one’s ever given me a clear answer. What’s preferable: madness or death?
Clenching his fists until the joints cracked and his knuckles turned white, Dylan turned to Jinn. But before he could say a word, Helena spoke in a commanding tone, her noble gaze sweeping over everyone present.
“I’m going to speak with Hirael. We’re surrounded on almost every side, and I have the feeling this escape route left behind the kingdom isn’t something we’ll want to rely on.” The duchess tapped twice on the bracelet on her left wrist, which had a small mirror as a jewel, and continued:
“I’ll head to the southwest and west sides of the kingdom. I’ll take the forces of House Oakwood and Steamhord with me. I’ll leave the southeast and east to the kingdom’s armies and the contractors. We don’t have time to waste. Any of you coming with me?”
Even though the question was addressed to the room, Helena’s eyes were fixed only on Gilbert and Robyn. Of everyone there, she knew only the two of them might follow her.
“I’ve got something to settle out there. An old fight that ended in a draw — I won’t lose this time.” Gilbert stepped forward. His armor and build, even at his age, still made him look imposing.
Robyn, now just as tall due to her transformation, did the same.
“I’m coming too.” She turned to Gilbert as she spoke. Before the man could protest, Robyn added, locking eyes with him: “There’s no time for arguing. I’m coming, whether you like it or not. You can’t stop me. I won’t let you go off and get yourself killed, Dad.”
The two stared at each other for about two seconds before Gilbert sighed and muttered something under his breath, finally saying with a faint smile:
“You’re way too much like me for your own good. Alright, you’re coming. But listen to me while we’re there.”
Robyn smiled, her fox-like face lighting up with an expression that somehow suited the tiara of shadows resting on her head.
At that moment, Helena’s bracelet beeped, and Selina’s voice came through loud and clear for everyone to hear.
“What fresh hell is it this time? Besides the world turning into a giant menstruation?”
Even in the middle of everything, Dylan couldn’t help but snort in amusement at Selina’s words.
Helena replied:
“Take as many soldiers as you can to the southwest and west walls. We’re dealing with undead and goblins. Bring incendiary ammo and prepare the Purification Powder. I’ll see you in five minutes.”
With that quick explanation, Helena shut off the EchoMirror. She paused for a second, her eyes losing their noble composure and seriousness the moment they met Dylan’s.
“My son, I…” Her voice faltered for a moment. Swallowing the words she wanted to say—whether for lack of time or something else—she finished with a simple word: “I trust you. Take care.”
Then she turned, her expression once more hard as stone as she walked away with quick steps. Touching the bracelet again, whatever conversation she had with Melissa was lost in the distance.
Out on the balcony, Gilbert looked at Dylan for a moment. The two exchanged a silent nod before the merchant followed the duchess. Robyn was more vocal, turning to the guide and saying:
“Come back safe and bring our idiot leader back with you.”
Dylan gave a tense smile but responded with a steady voice:
“I’ll try. Come back safe and bring your idiot father back with you.”
Robyn laughed—a more animalistic sound, but no less filled with fear—and nodded. Turning around, she followed Gilbert and Helena off the balcony, her reply trailing behind her in the air:
“I will!”
With half the group gone, Charlotte opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. The princess had been listening in silence, unmoving. The pale green in her eyes trembled with uncertain, fearful emotion.
“That look doesn’t suit the memory I have of you,” Dylan said, catching her attention. “I don’t remember the princess I swore to serve being this fragile. The people of Terraria wouldn’t want to see the princess they love with that expression.”
Beside him, Jinn grabbed the handle of the Relic of Knowledge and pointed it forward. With a white flash, the Proto-A appeared in the air. Before it could fall, the ship’s active systems kicked in, igniting the Gravity Dust-powered engines and keeping it afloat.
Jinn tapped Dylan’s shoulder twice and leapt onto the deck of the Proto-A, floating the instant his feet left the ground.
Clutching the fabric of her long pink skirt, Charlotte replied. She stared at Dylan briefly before lowering her gaze, ashamed of herself.
“My mask is well-crafted. Strong and elegant, but it’s not really who I am. That mask just… slipped. The memories people have of me are flawed. Flawed just like…” Her voice faded at the end, but the meaning was clear.
To Charlotte’s surprise, Dylan let out a scornful chuckle. Not at her, but at her words. His voice took on a strangely arrogant tone.
“No. My memory isn’t flawed. Not mine. I remember everything…”
As if to confirm it, the blue glow in his eyes flared, burning away the brown of his irises like fire.
Ghostly blue stared into pale green, locking her gaze in place.
“Every word of every conversation. Every color in every memory. The smell of the landscape, the taste of the food that day, the way the wind felt on my skin… I remember everything.”
“So, Your Royal Highness: Princess Regent Charlotte A’Elise of Valmont, don’t insult me by saying my memory is flawed…”
“And if my memory isn’t flawed, that can only mean one thing: neither are you. And don’t tell me you’ve changed — because I know you haven’t…”
Raising his right arm, Dylan pointed toward the kingdom. Chaos had been pushed back by the safety of the barrier and the rain of green leaves, but tension still hung heavy in the air.
People moved up and down the streets—soldiers, civilians—each with a task: seeking shelter, searching for information, or heading somewhere on orders.
Whatever the reason, no one stood still.
“Your people need their princess. So I ask you, Your Royal Highness… are you going to just stand there?”
At the end of his words, the same hand pointing to the kingdom turned toward the princess, palm up.
Charlotte stared at the hand in silence for a moment—five, maybe ten seconds. No more than that. Something stirred behind her eyes, thoughts only she could understand.
Then the silence broke, shattered by a laugh that echoed from her rose-colored lips.
Rising from her chest, climbing her throat until it became sound, the laugh was joyful, lighthearted, and held a touch of madness Dylan found oddly familiar.
So… we weren’t the only ones infected by him. Just know this: you’re the best kind of virus, my friend.
Pushing those thoughts aside for now, Dylan closed his eyes as Charlotte’s mana exploded in a pink aura that washed over the entire balcony with its sheer size and power.
Extending her left hand to the side, the royal scepter — the Resonance Scepter — flew from the throne straight into the princess’s palm. She gripped the silver shaft, etched with pink Mystic Symbols, tightly.
The heart-shaped gem at its tip gleamed the moment Charlotte’s fingers closed around it.
From the same pink hue as the princess’s mana, an aura of pure energy radiated from the scepter, merging, blending, and amplifying hers until nearly a third of the entire royal castle was bathed in pink light.
With her immense hair billowing behind her and the Mystic Symbols on her dress glowing softly, Charlotte’s laughter echoed for just over two seconds.
Then she smiled — something regal and noble — though the corners of her mouth twitched, as if restraining a laugh, holding back the madness that threatened to spill out.
Her light-green eyes were clear and focused when she spoke:
"Alalia, on my signal, open the barrier and turn it into an umbrella. Block the influence of the Blood Moon and the Starless Sky... Let them slam against the walls — it’s time we strike back..."
Placing her right hand over Dylan’s, the princess’s delicate fingers closed around his just as a pink-and-white barrier shimmered into existence around the two of them.
Dylan barely had time to widen his eyes before the barrier shot off like a sphere, launching them into the Proto-A.
With propulsion engines igniting, the Proto-A rocketed into the sky a moment later. Behind them, the princess’s voice echoed off the now-empty balcony, finally answering Dylan’s earlier question:
“Terraria is under attack. And as your princess, I cannot stand by and do nothing!”
[…]
At the main gate of the royal castle.
The garden behind the gate was beautiful. Not exactly grand — the way it had been built didn’t allow for that — but it resembled a sort of private little park.
The grass was neatly trimmed. The few trees were well-tended and of various species, maintained through arrays of Mystic Symbols that acclimatized them, allowing them to survive even in environments not naturally suited to their growth.
It wasn’t enough to support trees from extreme climates, hot or cold, but it was sufficient for species from similar or mildly different regions to coexist in the same space.
The same went for the plants: flowers of every shape and color. Some small and thin, but numerous and clustered together; others large and solitary, claiming space for themselves with a size nearly half that of the average adult.
There were even a few animals, though most were asleep — dogs, birds, cats, squirrels, rabbits… All domesticated, surviving without the need to hunt, under the care of the castle’s zoologists.
No matter how many times I see this place, I always find it incredible... There's even a lake! If I make it out of this in one piece, I’m asking to come here again. If this is the “public” garden, what must the back one look like?
Robyn’s thoughts drifted, trying to focus on anything but the madness threatening to take over. The crown of solid shadows on her forehead helped, but she could feel her bloodlust stronger than usual, as a more feral part of her clawed for control.
As she followed Gilbert and Helena, her eyes fell on the other member of their group — an old, frail-looking man who had joined them barely two minutes earlier.
Hirael was lean, of average height for a man, with a long white beard. His skin was pinkish, slightly pale, and marked with deep wrinkles, especially around his pitch-black eyes.
He wore a long, purple mage’s robe that sometimes dragged along the stone path leading to the main gate and sometimes floated in gentle waves, revealing a pair of brown sandals and aged feet.
On his head sat a pointed hat of the same color, decorated with golden stars that shimmered — and seemed, oddly, to move. Only to be found in the exact same place when one blinked, perfectly still.
Despite the group’s fast pace, the old mage appeared unaffected. His feet glided across the ground like skates on ice.
"Those plants that took over the barrier control chamber… they’re the work of that ‘Alalia’ I was never allowed to see, even with my rank and decades of service to the royal family, I presume?" — Hirael’s voice was aged and experienced, yet strangely energetic as it came from his cracked lips.
"The very same," Helena replied curtly. "Have you contacted your students?"
"Bah! Those idiots aren’t my students. They’re students in a class I happen to teach now and then? Sure. But my students? No," Hirael scoffed, unfiltered.
"These newer generations are worthless. Not only has the number of Precious Stone-ranked contractors dropped to the point I can count them on one hand, but not a single decent mage has come close to my caliber..."
"If my youngest son had at least wanted to follow in my footsteps, I’m sure he’d be an excellent mage — even with the little mana he has… Looks like I’ll never get to retire…"
"No one appreciates good, old-fashioned magic anymore. They all prefer Mystic Symbols and enchanted blades. Stabbing a target is far worse than blowing them up or freezing them, but people are too shortsighted to see that..."
As the old mage rambled on, Robyn and Gilbert exchanged a confused glance. Gilbert looked more amused than anything, though even his amusement didn’t completely hide the grim tension of the moment.
Robyn whispered to Helena:
"Is he always like this?"
"Always. If no one cuts him off, he’ll go on talking to himself until his throat dries out," Helena replied with a sigh, then gently tapped Hirael’s shoulder. "Have the decoys left the castle?"
The old mage blinked, snapping out of his muttering. His eyes lost focus, as if staring at something far away, before sharpening again.
"Some have, others haven’t. I sent two in each direction, with different means of travel. One group took the main roads, the other went through darker paths. Ah yes — we’re the main group heading southwest."
The quick explanation puzzled the father-daughter pair. Once again, Robyn was the one to ask:
"Decoys? What do you mean, decoys?"
"One of Hirael’s specialties is illusion magic. He created copies of us and sent them in every direction. A trick to confuse any spy we might’ve missed," Helena explained, then added, "That’s why we’re running. Once we hit the streets, that’ll change."
She pointed ahead, where the gates loomed just a few meters away.
The conversation — if it could be called that — seemed to end there.
The tension was heavy. The oppressive gaze from beyond the barrier may have vanished, though not the presence of the Blood Moon. But the knowledge that this only happened because a human was fighting the one behind that gaze did little to reassure anyone aware of it.
The danger was still present — the only difference now was that it was being restrained. Forcefully.
As confident as those who knew the human were — especially Robyn and Gilbert — it would be a lie to say they weren’t worried, each for their own reasons.
Crossing through the castle gates, the guards asked no questions, stepping aside at a mere nod and glance from Helena.
The moment the four stepped onto the hexagon-paved street, the ground around them began to tremble.
From Helena, hundreds of Mystic Symbols burst outward — sapphire-blue and illusory. Spinning and weaving together, they sank into the ground, forming a matrix that outlined one of the hexagonal blocks and lifted it into the air.
Strangely, no one felt any instability as the ground rose. Nor when the floating platform accelerated to a speed just below the sound barrier.
A barrier formed along its edges. At the front, a triangular shield sliced through the air, sharp and focused, as the improvised transport created by the duchess rocketed southwest across the kingdom.
It didn’t take them long to reach the wall in that region.
The area was swarming with troops—soldiers clad in fully enchanted armor and armed: some with swords, others with spears, and many with bows. All were mobilizing toward the top of the wall and the inner perimeter.
On the armor of each man and woman was an emblem. Some bore a small oak tree with a full canopy of leaves; others, a gear surrounded by steam.
Prepared and under orders since before Helena spoke with Selina—days ago, shortly after the human’s return to Terraria—the troops of Houses Oakwood and Steamhord had already been mobilizing to respond to the coming attack.
Even with the duchess’s arrival on-site, they didn’t stop moving.
Wasting no time, and bringing the hexagon down to the ground, the duchess walked toward Selina, who stood atop the Humvee, barking orders without pause.
Behind her, Robyn felt a surge of fear and heat rise in her blood. The scene reminded her of Winterhord—the chaos, the looming sense of danger and death, and the certainty that a battle was about to erupt.
The air wasn’t cold, nor was it insane like back then, but Robyn would be the first to say she’d rather it were, if anyone asked.
Above, the Blood Moon glowed brightly in the Starless Sky.
[…]
At the same time, in the southeasternmost part of the kingdom, heading eastward—
Melissa was used to leading. She had been a contractor for years, and even though her team was mostly composed of seasoned veterans who were used to taking orders, unexpected situations were a given on every mission.
But there was a big difference between leading a team made up of Darnell—someone who had known her for just as long—, acquaintances from occasional missions, even Selina, and leading the equivalent of a battalion.
The kingdom’s army was under the general’s command. But the contractors and many soldiers from smaller noble houses were under her responsibility.
Tension kept everyone rigid, like cocked springs, ready to fire at the first sign of danger.
“What new intel do we have, Miss Oakwood?” Darnell asked beside her, acting as her spokesman.
"Miss Oakwood" was what he called Melissa in important meetings or when formal status was expected. Lady Oakwood was reserved for Helena.
The building was an official outpost near the eastern wall. Two stories high, the room was spacious, with gray walls, soft yellow lights made from crystal matrices, and a table in the center.
Darnell wore silver armor, similar in design to Melissa’s.
With flexible joints and lighter materials for better mobility, he carried two pistols at his waist, a shotgun strapped to his back, and a few other weapons in his Travel Space—a ring on his pinky finger—along with ammo, all provided by the human for the occasion.
Without a helmet, his blonde hair falling past his shoulders, Melissa frowned and glanced around. Her gaze lingered on each person for a moment.
All of Team Pebble was there, along with a few important army officers and nobles who had sent their troops to the region.
Ísis wore an enchanted copper-toned armor, light in appearance. The only pink on her, besides her hair, was the gum bubble that occasionally emerged from her lips—also pink, both naturally and thanks to lipstick—and a glowing enchanted necklace she had chosen to wear.
Anihadab wore mage-like robes and a turban. The purple fabric was inscribed with Mystic Symbols and runes made by the human. Underneath, a light armor of Direwolf leather, much like the one Maribel wore, designed for mobility.
Beldin was the only one in heavy armor. His was a reddish copper, and with his hammer strapped to his back, the dwarf’s stocky figure looked like a small crimson wall in the corner of the room.
Everyone was tense to some degree, mentally preparing for the fight—from the army officers and nobles to Team Pebble’s members.
Maribel spun a dagger in her hand before sheathing it at her side, then drawing it again, restlessly. Ísis chewed her gum, blowing a bubble now and then and adding a fresh piece to the mix even though the previous one hadn’t lost its flavor.
Anihadab’s fingers moved constantly, tapping the rings on one hand against those on the other. Beldin cracked his knuckles every few seconds, rotated his neck and arms, warming up without removing his scowl.
Darnell seemed the least tense, but the soft tapping of his index finger on his pistol holster betrayed that impression.
Thinking for a moment, Melissa cleared her throat. The mirrored earring on her ear—her EchoMirror—had been silent since her last call with her mother.
On the round table at the center, a map of the region was spread open. Melissa pointed to the nearest section of the wall and said:
“The army we’re facing numbers in the tens of thousands. At least thirty thousand armed goblins, plus mutated undead twisted by the Blood Moon above, and flying eyeballs the size of a fist—or larger.”
There was little doubt in the eyes of those present when the word “goblin” was spoken—everyone had already been briefed that the goblins they’d be facing weren’t the dumb little creatures they knew.
Of course, the question still lingered: “Aren’t they supposed to be stupid?” But no one dared say it out loud.
Each officer had their EchoMirror open, transmitting Melissa’s voice to messengers who would relay the intel to the main command centers beyond this one.
“We’ve confirmed that we must not look at the moon. Avoid it at all costs and stop anyone who tries to. Also avoid making direct eye contact with the eyeballs’ pupils. Any wounds from them—or the undead—should be avoided at all costs…”
“They carry some kind of infection. We’ve got a countermeasure being distributed to the troops—a powder called Purification Powder. But in the chaos of battle, it’s not something we can fully rely on…”
“Pay close attention to your left eye. If it starts to ache, swell, twitch, or act strangely, apply the powder to it or take a pill…”
“If that doesn’t work—blind it or rip it out. Better to lose an eye than be killed or turned into a monster—”
At that moment, another voice interrupted the Oakwood heir.
“My subjects, my people…”
Coming from above and within the barrier, the few who didn’t immediately recognize Princess Charlotte’s voice were quickly informed by those who did.
Blinking, Melissa reacted quickly and barked an order as the princess’s voice echoed from above.
“To your posts! The fight’s starting sooner than we expected—move!”
No one remained still, not in that outpost, nor anywhere around the eastern wall.
Above, the Blood Moon shone high in the Starless Sky…
[…]
Hovering steadily, the Proto-A remained positioned above the center of the kingdom.
Its reddish paint would’ve made it stand out against the pure green barrier covering the sky—if not for the cloaking matrix currently activated.
Using a simple system created by the human and enhanced with Jinn’s help, the air around the ship shifted in a way that bent light around its frame. It wasn’t perfect—the ship could still be noticed with a careful eye—but as a prototype, it was more than enough for now.
Inside the command room, Jinn sat in front of the central control panel—a fusion of tech and matrix systems controlling every aspect of the ship.
The current captain of the Proto-A had the stream phone in her hand, fully focused on the fight the human was engaged in. Her pointed ears twitched now and then, while the orange eye on the palm-shaped mark on her thigh glowed beneath her armor.
In front of the main window stood Dylan’s armor. Towering at over two meters, it was made of enchanted metal etched with Mystic Symbols and Runes. It remained still without its user, who stood beside it, eyes closed, in preparation.
Not here, not anymore, never again…
What Dylan had to say, he had already said. Now, all that remained was to wait for the right moment to act. The final step before the barrier came down.
At the center of the room stood Charlotte.
Holding the Resonance Scepter, her voice was amplified beyond the ship through a mix of magic and the Proto-A’s speakers, echoing in such a way that practically the entire kingdom could hear her words.
I’m already terrible at rehearsed speeches… And now an improvised one?… I really shouldn’t have done this… But I already have. I have to do something, I can’t just stand by…
Taking a deep breath and gathering her thoughts for a moment after speaking, Charlotte said:
“…We are under attack. Attacked by an enemy so dangerous that putting it into words would strip them of meaning… The storm surrounding the kingdom… was his doing…”
“The bleeding moon… was his doing…”
“The water turning to blood… was his doing…”
“Every death caused by it—without exception—was his doing…”
“That evil presence, that cruel gaze we saw in the sky earlier… it was him…”
Charlotte paused for a moment. She let the weight of her words settle in the minds of all who were listening — the danger they hinted at, the monster behind it all.
A being whose very existence had suppressed an entire kingdom…
She drew another breath. Her mana surged. Around her, her Aura burst forth like a rosy mantle, reflecting her emotions.
Her fear and despair — stirred only by the memory of that presence.
Her rage and hatred — born of her own powerlessness in the face of her kingdom’s looming ruin.
Her insanity and hope — sprung from the same source and reaching toward the same end…
The memory of the conversation she’d had with Dylan just moments earlier flashed through her mind:
“Dylan, of all people, you know him best… Tell me—does he have any chance of winning…?”
Charlotte knew it was a foolish question. Nothing in this world was certain except death — and even that, she sometimes found herself questioning.
If the human were to lose, she knew their chances of victory would fall so close to zero it wouldn’t matter.
…But Dylan’s answer had surprised her.
“The correct answer is: yes. But even though saying this only adds more weight to my friend’s shoulders… No.”
“…I can’t see Devas losing on this bloodstained night.”
Such absolute confidence… — she thought, a bitter taste in her mouth. Do people feel anything like that about me?… If not in my strength, at least in my leadership?…
That thought struck something deep within Charlotte, merging with her emotions in a molten core inside her soul.
Still dormant, what she guessed to be her Semblance seemed to guide her next words.
Then I’ll borrow that confidence… And no, I’m not proud to put more weight on the shoulders of someone who should’ve been a guest in my kingdom…
Letting herself go, her mouth opened—
Above, the Blood Moon shone high in the Starless Sky…
[…]
“But that presence was pushed back! That gaze was turned away!”
“The strongest warrior in my kingdom. In our kingdom. In Terraria. He’s out there! Beyond the barrier, fighting that malevolent being!”
“The gaze is on him! The presence is on him! The moon bleeds over his body!”
“And still, the presence hasn’t returned! The gaze lingers far!”
Walking beside Selina near the stairs leading to the top of the southwest wall, Robyn was the first to look toward the direction from which the Shadow Puppet’s voice had come. Her fox ears flattened slightly atop her head, and her claws twitched.
“Big Leader really is badass, huh?” Selina stopped beside her. Her voice was oddly flat — the same tone Robyn remembered her using back in Winterhord. “I know I’m helping where I can, but it doesn’t feel like enough… Honestly, I kind of feel useless…”
The reply came in a hoarse murmur:
“Me too…”
“Don’t think that way,” Gilbert said as he approached. His face still carried its usual scowl, but his eyes were clear. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s this: everyone has a role to play in this big world.”
“Be it on a fishing boat, in a merchant caravan, on a contract team, or in battle… Everyone does what they need to do. Some roles are bigger, others smaller — but none are useless.”
“Devas is a warrior. The greatest I’ve ever known. And a man I’m not ashamed to say I’d trust with my life. We can’t help him fight that abomination… But burning a few zombies and blinding some eyes? That’s something we can do damn well.”
Giving both Selina and Robyn a quick pat on the shoulder with the back of his fingers, Gilbert climbed the stairs without looking back.
Robyn stared for another second toward the source of the shout, then turned her gaze to the straight back of her father.
Like a man determined to see something through, even if it kills him… I’m sorry, old man, but I’m not letting you die. I’ve already lost Mom. I won’t lose you too…
Following Gilbert up the stairs, Robyn almost stumbled when Selina — a few steps below, staring at her butt and fluffed-up tail — suddenly asked:
“What happened to your second tail—?”
“They fused! That’s why this one’s bigger than usual!”
Robyn silently thanked the spirits her face was covered in fur — at least her blush was hidden.
Above, the Blood Moon shone high in the Starless Sky…
[…]
“But he’s just one man! Like anyone else, he can’t handle everything alone!”
“That evil presence is his to face, yes — but beyond the walls, outside the barrier protecting the kingdom, there’s an enemy army!”
“Blood-soaked undead! Twisted goblins! Malevolent creatures of the night! Deformed beasts! Demon eyes! Monsters!”
“That army is ours to face. Ours to burn. Ours to kill. Ours to destroy. Ours to stop from breaching our home!”
“And we will!”
All of Team Pebble felt their blood begin to boil — both from the princess’s words and from the battle to come.
Beldin had loved fighting for as long as he could remember. Not pointless fights — only those that truly mattered.
Battles to protect his team were one of those. Battles with big rewards, another… But a battle he knew would be written into history for future generations to read? One that came with a massive reward and protected not just his team, but the entire kingdom?…
…The bloodthirsty grin on his face said it all.
Anihadab, on the other hand, had always preferred solving problems with words and the least amount of risk possible. Where cunning could solve things, violence could be avoided — and danger minimized…
He knew bringing his team to the kingdom was a risk. The human had made it clear this battle defied even the word “dangerous”…
But he’d brought them anyway.
As much a scholar as a leader, Anihadab knew this battle would be a turning point in history. For better or worse, it would shape the future — not just of Team Pebble, but of the kingdom, perhaps the world.
Fighting here, prepared and with the human’s help, was the best chance they had.
…This time, the path of least risk was one drenched in violence…
Maribel considered herself a coward. Cowards live — that was her motto.
Poisoning someone was more work, but far safer than fighting them head-on. A ruined reputation through whispers could be just as deadly as a knife to the back.
But for all her top-tier cowardice, she’d long since lost count of the times she’d risked her life for her team, her friends, her family…
She wouldn’t have come anywhere near this battle for all the gold in the world — if not for the fact that her family was here… But they were...
…And for Maribel, at least, they had a creature as monstrous on their side as the one carrying that malevolent presence…
Isis, out of the four, was the simplest… and at the same time, the most complicated.
Energetic and fond of parties, even at an age where most would say she should have outgrown that personality, she had always loved stories about heroes… but had always hated heroes.
Stories were just stories, and if history had proven anything, it was that real-life heroes only had one ending — and it was never pretty.
That’s why she always said the Pebble team was made up of: Beldin, the dwarf warrior; Anihadab, the ink mage; Maribel, the raccoon rogue; and Isis, the bubble archer.
No heroes… No one deserves to carry that title.
There were many reasons why she insisted their team come to the kingdom, even knowing how dangerous it was. Helping the princess she admired so much was one. Being in the eye of the storm — at the heart of the coming battle, right beside the kingdom’s army — was another…
…But helping, and trying to make sure the hero who once saved their team didn’t die, was at the very top of her list.
Above, the Blood Moon shone high in the Starless Sky…
[…]
“We will protect our kingdom! We will protect our families! We will protect our home!”
“Monsters are monsters — and they’ve been slain by contractors since our home was founded!”
In his younger days, Markus dreamed of becoming a contractor. Fighting monsters and going on adventures — but life changed his mind quickly when his daughter was born.
Emily, his daughter, never had that dream. She always loved the forge more than anything else — and for that, he was grateful.
Being a contractor was dangerous, and he knew it all too well. Many of his clients never came back… and it was rarely because they found a better supplier.
That’s why he didn’t hesitate. He loaded the best weapons from his shop onto a cart and hauled them to the nearest guard post — with his daughter helping push it alongside him.
Being a contractor was dangerous… If they were going to fight, he’d make damn sure they were armed for the battle ahead.
Above, the Blood Moon shone high in the Starless Sky…
[…]
“Our army has never failed to protect us, and this Bloodcloud storm won’t be the first!”
“Our walls have never been breached, and tonight’s Blood Moon won’t be the one to do it!”
“The moon bleeds and the rivers run red — but it’ll be from the blood of the monsters outside!”
Helena had seen her share of battles. Closer to sixty than fifty, she might not look her age — but her experience didn’t lie.
“Load the Purification Powder into the launch matrices! Ready the cannons! Power the fire and lightning arrays!”
“Archers to your stations! Cover your right eye! Too many targets — just pull your bow as far as you can and let it fly!”
“Anyone who feels their left eye acting strange, retreat immediately and take an extra pill!”
“I want everyone inside the walls dosed with Purification Powder — yesterday!”
Face stern and gaze sharp, Helena barked out orders, fast and efficient. Using her innate magic, she drew Mystic Symbols in the air with her mana, creating a voice amplification array — her words rang out loud and clear.
Even so, several EchoMirror Masters — circular mirrors about twelve inches across — floated before her, relaying orders to other posts.
Worried about her son, Dylan, who she knew would throw himself into the fight to help the human… she didn’t show it.
Worried about her daughter, Melissa, who was on the opposite side of the kingdom, facing the enemy there… she didn’t show it.
Worried about Charlotte — who she could almost consider a third daughter… she didn’t show it.
In that moment, Helena wasn’t a mother.
The Duchess of Symbols stood tall.
Above, the Blood Moon shone high in the Starless Sky…
[…]
At some point, every conversation between contractors had touched on the same topic: that one clause in their contracts — the one everyone knew, joked about, and never believed would actually come into effect.
[In the event of a threat to the kingdom, all contractors must serve in the army until the threat is eliminated; failure to comply will render the contract null, and you will be expelled from the Guild and blacklisted permanently.]
“The contract’s not even magical… How would they know who helped or not?” — they used to say.
“If that ever happens, I’ll kill as many enemies as I can and skyrocket my rank!” — others laughed.
“‘In case of a kingdom-level threat’? If something that bad happens, what can I even do? I’m not even gold rank! I’d rather lose my contract and run!” — not an uncommon thought.
For better or worse, every group always has different personalities. Different minds. Different people.
The brave. The cowards.
The selfish. The selfless.
Those who would die for the kingdom. Those who would run the moment the kingdom was under attack… But strangely…
Hearing the voice of the princess — the one who had always done everything in her power to keep everyone safe…
Who had always fought to help others, unlike the nobles obsessed with profit…
Who had always pushed for fair laws and fought corruption with everything she had…
Who had always done everything… for the people…
Strangely, hearing the voice of Princess Charlotte, very few thought about running. And even if the thought crossed their minds… it didn’t stay long.
Cowardly or brave. Selfish or noble. Men, women, young, old.
If there was one thing nearly everyone in the kingdom had in common, it was a shared respect and love for their princess.
“So I ask you now, soldiers, contractors, Terrarians…”
“Protect your — our — home!”
And when that plea came from their beloved princess… it was no longer just a request.
Above, the Blood Moon shone high in the Starless Sky…
[…]
Across the kingdom, Charlotte’s words had taken root.
It wasn’t the most elegant speech — but the raw emotions behind every word did what they needed to do.
Fear gave strength to those who wanted to protect.
Rage gave drive to those who felt threatened.
Hope gave light to those who felt lost.
Insanity brought them together and pointed beyond the walls…
Feeling that the time had come to bring her speech to a close, Charlotte drew a deep breath. But before she could utter her final words and signal to Alalia to raise the barrier, a second sun rose on the far horizon — in a night where no stars were meant to shine.
There was no sound — the pure green barrier surrounding the kingdom blocked it from reaching within. But the light was strong enough to pierce through.
It would have blinded many who looked in that direction… if they hadn’t been hallucinating. Because monsters made of shadows, vanishing in the blink of an eye, could only be illusions to those who saw them.
Only the shadow in the corner of their vision… that one stepped forward in that moment.
The clouds for hundreds of kilometers were evaporated instantly, weakening the Bloodcloud storm in one massive stroke.
Thousands of demon eyes were blinded by the blast of light. All of them, along with the zombies, were weakened — by the loss of the clouds, by the blood that had ceased to fall from them, and by the searing brilliance of the explosion.
Seizing the moment, Charlotte spoke — as if pouring every bit of emotion into a few brief words:
"We will survive this night… It’s just another night… And then…”
“…FOR TERRARIA, FIGHT!”
At the princess's final cry, the kingdom's barriers surged to life.
Unfolding like an umbrella, a wave of pure green spread across the sky for dozens of kilometers, shielding anyone who looked up from seeing the great Blood Moon — which, strangely and unnaturally, seemed to have lost much of its overwhelming presence.
It still hung high, glowing in the Starless Sky — but now blurred and distant…
[…]
Beyond the kingdom, on the southern front and across the southwestern and southeastern regions:
Zombies not already being attacked by Nightmares ran while shrieking and foaming at the mouth. Animals twisted and mutated by the Blood Moon snarled — wolves, rabbits, squirrels, bears. Their fleshy, rotting bodies pushed forward faster and faster toward the kingdom walls.
They drooled, growled, groaned. A putrid stench followed their every bloodstained step, soaking the ground already drenched in gore.
Like a great red tide, they surged forward without a second of hesitation — mindless beasts with one single purpose: to destroy anything that wasn’t like them.
Some of the Demon Eyes hovered just below the Starless Sky; others continued their fight with flying Nightmares, while a third group drifted above the walls with staggering, drunken movements.
Though their retinas were blind, it hardly mattered. Flying alongside them were corrupted birds — eyeless, bloated, with blood-soaked wings — diving down onto the soldiers atop the walls.
Among all the creatures, one stood out: a massive nautilus floating high and far in the sky, as if drifting in deep water.
Curled within its spiraling red, viscous shell, the creature measured at least three meters tall, four long, and two wide. From the shell's opening, twisted tentacle-like appendages flailed erratically, obscuring the creature’s true form within, each movement spraying blood into the air.
Above the Dreadnautilus, the Wandering Eye Fish circled. Roughly the size of a human arm, the creature — which may once have been a flying fish — now bore a single, massive eye where its head should be.
Its fleshy wings flapped slowly, producing a sickening sound as blood poured from its gills, somehow keeping it airborne.
Below, standing directly on the Dreadnautilus’s slick shell — which moved through the air like a ship caught in invisible waves — three humanoid figures stood motionless, unaffected by the swaying.
To the left, with a body of scale-covered skin oozing translucent green slime and standing just under two meters tall, the Zombie Merman looked like a decaying statue dredged up from the ocean floor.
Its arms swayed with rusted stiffness, encrusted with barnacles and rotting parasites. Its hands had only three fingers each, shaped like webbed fins, ending in dripping green claws.
Its fish-like head was half-rotten, eyeless, with marine worms and larvae squirming from the holes where eyes should have been.
From behind its head, hardened limestone horns jutted out. Its toothless mouth, filled with blackened, rotten plates, hung open — the upper jaw pulled up and back by the horns, while its empty sockets stared blankly at the sky.
To the right stood the Hemogoblin Shark — muscular, grotesquely fleshy, soaked in clotted blood, and towering at over two meters tall. A bizarre fusion between a goblin and a goblin shark.
Its skinless body revealed taut muscle beneath the blood. Arms abnormally long ended in webbed, clawed hands — the fingers elongated, the claws appearing rotten but still razor-sharp.
Its eyeless face featured a single, elongated nose that jutted from the top of its head like a horn. Below, in place of a nose, its massive, disproportionate mouth was filled with yellowed, rotting teeth. Flesh tore around the edges, the “smile” stretching nearly to its neck.
Its tongue lolled between its teeth, and its sharply pointed tail twitched with small spasms.
Like a statue, the Hemogoblin Shark stood waiting for the orders of its master — the man who had once caught it.
At the center, seated calmly in front of the two monsters, far more human and clean in appearance, was Simon. Legs crossed, two swollen eyes — each the size of an orange — slowly orbited his head.
The wrinkled face of the old, former angler wore a crooked, disturbingly calm grin of yellowed teeth.
His skin, pale and corpse-like, was strangely free of bloodstains. There were no signs of rot. No blood flowed from his eyes, mouth, nose, or ears.
Sitting with his old fishing rod across his lap — now stained blood-red — the man wore his usual angler attire, oddly untouched by the crimson flooding everything else: a dark green vest, a worn gray-blue shirt and pants, and brown sandals.
His matted, blood-soaked hair was uncovered — no hat this time.
“I can feel my earring… My old friend kept it safe… What was his name again?… Gil something…” — Simon’s voice came out slow and wet, as if his lungs were filled with liquid.
“Ah, yes… Gilbert, old friend… My lord gave me sight. He lit up my blind eyes… Gilbert, he’s the Merchant of this generation, isn’t he?… Is that what I was shown?…”
“I was the Angler of the last, wasn’t I?… I think so… This one is… a boy? I don’t remember… I don’t remember the name… I don’t remember the face… Yellow hat…”
“The one with the yellow hat… I should’ve kept it… It mattered… Maybe he’s the one who… who stopped me from catching the eel… Maybe he can tame it… Or he’s already died trying…”
“Maybe… Will you try to stop me, old friend?… Or will you join me — in service, honor, and worship of my lord?… I remember… maybe?… The old days were good… Together again?…”
Sleepy, like a fisherman on the edge of a boat waiting for something to bite, Simon gently picked up the blood-red fishing rod from his lap and pointed it forward — in the direction where he ‘saw’ his old friend standing.
His eyes orbited his head as the Dreadnautilus swam through the air, leaving a trail of blood like tears falling on the zombies below…
[…]
From the east and west, the goblin armies began to move once again.
The largest among them wore heavy plate armor of dark metal. The smaller ones, leather with metallic accents. The spellcasters wore deep purple robes — all marching in unison, with eerie discipline.
Each wore strange, round helmets made from what appeared to be melted white wax. Pale as the moon should’ve been, had it not been drowned in blood, the helmets bore the engraving of a full moon where the face would be.
Two eyeholes — shaped like lunar craters — were filled with semi-transparent black glass. With no openings for nose or mouth, the rest of the wax helmet was inscribed with a singular, spiraling matrix of arcane symbols — counter-clockwise.
At the head of the eastern army, a group of perhaps a hundred, maybe two hundred figures led the way.
Draped in crimson robes, stitched from three overlapping layers and hooded. Varying in stature, gender, and — apparently — race, the cultists had grossly deformed heads, their eyes bloated and bulging in their sockets.
Some had eyes so large they began to fuse into one. Others had a second eye growing from the back of their skulls, splitting their heads open as more blood than a body should contain spilled from the cracks.
One, in particular — the one leading the “army” of cultists with a swaying gait, like a pendulum — had no head at all. In its place was a massive, singular eyeball. Its pupil, deep crimson, reflected the blood-lit moon above.
Now and then, its pupil shifted randomly in all directions — as if following something unseen in the air — before locking forward again, straight toward the kingdom's eastern wall.
Without a word, the goblins continued their march. And the blood-robed cultists swayed ever so slightly — like an old clock’s pendulum, marking the time until the end.
[…]
While the soldiers and contractors waited tensely for the armies outside the walls to approach—still beyond the effective range of their long-distance weapons—the camouflage matrices of the Proto-A deactivated.
In stark contrast to the pure green “ceiling” above the kingdom, the Proto-A remained still for two or three seconds before layer upon layer of barriers began to materialize around the vessel.
Varying in shades of green, there were roughly thirty barriers in total. The distance between them varied: the smallest gap was around thirty to forty centimeters, while the largest reached up to a meter and a half of empty space between each layer.
The closest barrier sat about ten meters from the hull of the Proto-A.
Inside the control room, Jinn’s hands moved swiftly. Her fingers darted over the ship’s controls and command matrices, leaving behind afterimages, while what appeared to be copies of her blue hands operated distant controls with precision.
After configuring and activating all the barriers just in time, Jinn closed every window using metal blinds embedded with matrices, then accelerated the ship.
In an instant, an immense explosion-like sound erupted as the sound barrier shattered with the movement of the ship, which stretched over a hundred meters in length.
Inside, however, the Proto-A remained unaffected by the abrupt motion, thanks to its internal kinetic dampening and energy dispersion matrices. None of the three people onboard felt the slightest discomfort.
Touching a sequence of buttons to her right while energizing two matrices on her left, Jinn’s eyes flicked quickly between the phone streaming the battlefield and the ship’s radar.
Beneath the hull of the Proto-A, a series of circular compartments opened. From them, objects about twenty centimeters long and ten centimeters in radius—strongly resembling missiles—dropped, falling toward the barriers and the ground below.
Just before reaching the barriers, a small matrix painted on the exterior of each bomb resonated with the mana from the shields and glowed. One by one, the regions of the barriers surrounding each bomb opened just enough to let them pass through before sealing again—creating a system that prevented any direct path between the barrier layers.
At the same time, around the lower half of the Proto-A, circles of Mystic Symbol matrices—each containing a single central Rune—lit up in yellow hues.
Moments later, beams of energy shot out from each matrix in sequence. They pierced through the barriers as if they didn’t exist, their mana frequencies and resonances causing only a slight ripple with each passage.
The beams struck first, lighting up the bloodstained night alongside the False Sun and the bomb that had exploded on the horizon. Each bolt incinerated between one to two hundred zombies on impact, scorching the ground at each collision point.
When the bombs finally hit—filled with Lightning Dust and Purification Powder—the resulting combination of explosions and lightning formed a strange electric mesh that spread across the battlefield.
The electricity searched for the nearest body before dispersing into the ground.
What the lightning didn’t burn or vaporize, the Purification Powder handled. On every zombie touched by the powder—even briefly—a thick, black smoke leaked from the affected area, their bodies slowing down as painful groans echoed from their throats.
It continued. Along its path toward the mushroom cloud looming on the horizon, the Proto-A bombarded the earth and air with lightning.
I'll help as much as I can while flying over these things… Thin their numbers. — Jinn thought. 'The Eye' is nowhere to be seen, but no warning messages are showing on the stream either… Devas is still just standing there, staring toward the mushroom cloud—
Her thought was interrupted in the instant between glancing at the streaming phone and the ship’s radar—the scene on the screen changed.
The entire display was consumed by the color purple, and the human vanished like a hallucination. The camera followed a second later, as he apparently dodged something blurred and unnaturally opaque.
Messages flashed rapidly across the screen:
[Visual corruption detected!][Auditory corruption detected!][Censoring image of “The Eye”.][Censoring scream of “The Eye”.][Denying debuff: “The Outer Foreigner Presence”.][Recalculating “Reality 4D (Safe)” system.]
At the same time, far off on the horizon, a straight barrier stretched across the entire view. Rising toward the Starless Sky, the barrier created by Shadowflame swept rapidly over an immense distance, covering almost the entire horizon in an instant.
Straight golden threads filled the interior of the barrier immediately after its appearance, forming luminous linear patterns like the traces of electrical circuits.
The flat horizontal barrier didn’t last long. After stretching a few hundred meters further—less than a second after its creation—the purple flames composing it rippled as if something passed through it—then exploded into sparks of violet fire and scattered fragments of golden threads.
Inside the Proto-A, Jinn, Dylan, and Charlotte couldn’t see the full event, but they all noticed—and felt—when the shadows in the room darkened and the air turned cold.
Beneath Jinn’s armor, the orange eye in the black palm-shaped mark on her thigh lit up.
Before she could even process the shift, illusory red tendrils emerged from the palm, crawling along her blue skin and stretching toward her shadow and the shadow of the chair against the ship’s floor.
The moment the tendrils touched the shadow, it rippled like black sludge, and two hands—darker than shadow itself—rose from it, gripping its edges like something tangible and pulling themselves up from the ever-growing dark that covered the floor, walls, and ceiling.
Without giving anyone a chance to react, the Shadow Puppet—using the human’s connection to Jinn as a portal—leapt from her shadow.
In a motion both erratic and dizzying, the shadow’s left hand covered Jinn’s left eye before blurring and streaking toward Dylan and Charlotte, doing the same to both simultaneously with its other hands.
After the touch, an amorphous black mass emerged from the Shadow Puppet’s palms, covering the left eye of all three like a pirate’s eyepatch. It slipped through their eyelids, enveloping the entire eyeball, and only stopped once it reached the optic nerves. There, it went still—creating a strange, cold sensation.
"Don’t scratch or try to rip off the protective membrane unless you want to lose your eye. Also, try—if you can—to control your mana so it can withstand what I just did to your left eye. Ignore the whispers—it’s better to hear them than to hear that thing scream."
The Shadow Puppet’s voice echoed, bouncing off the walls of the command room—now entirely covered in shadows, with thousands of blinking eyes staring out from them.
From those shadows, echoes of deranged whispers leaked out, filling the ears of Jinn, Dylan, and Charlotte.
Of the three, Jinn was the only one who didn’t need to restrain herself or stay in control. Her connection to the human and her nightmare energy made her body treat the black mass covering her left eye as part of itself.
Charlotte, on the other hand—her hand hovering just inches from her eye—froze upon hearing the delirious voice. Dylan had to consciously stop his mana, guided by his innate magic, from resisting what was happening to his eye.
Just then, the array monitoring damage to the barriers around the Proto-A started blinking.
One by one, the barriers began to take damage rapidly—especially the outermost one, whose durability was degrading so fast it would be completely gone in just over ten seconds.
Reacting quickly, Jinn’s left hand activated two more matrices and surged mana into the barrier systems. The result was immediate—the barriers began stabilizing again—but the drain on Mana Stones and Synthetic Sapphires skyrocketed.
“If this keeps up, our reserves won’t last an hour,” Jinn warned without turning. “What the hell was that? And what’s the situation now? How is that thing not dead after that explosion?!”
Dylan listened from inside his armor, not approaching. Charlotte glanced at the walls for a moment, hesitated, and then stepped closer to observe the Shadow Puppet standing beside Jinn.
The human’s shadow looked almost identical to before—like when she’d seen it minutes ago on the royal palace balcony—except for three things.
The first, and most obvious, was that he was no longer wearing the Bone Helm or the Remnant of the Deerclops armor.
The second, nearly as obvious, was the total absence of his left eye. The area seemed fused and blended into the rest of his body, hiding what had once been a pale, milky-white eye.
The third—more subtle and requiring a closer look—was that the Shadow Puppet’s ears were slowly bleeding black fluid, which dripped from the lobes like strange, twisted tears.
Inside those tears, one crazed, ravenous eye fought another—cruel and malicious—which was quickly devoured before the tear even reached the Puppet’s shoulder.
“If this battle doesn’t end in an hour, our mana reserves will be the least of our problems,” the Shadow Puppet mocked in a low buzz, before answering: “The situation’s a disaster. I have no damn idea how that thing wasn’t reduced to atoms!”
The human’s shadow looked up with his single, red, deranged eye for a moment. The manic grin faded into a single thin white line as he muttered:
“Something happened to the Blood Moon. It lost its presence the very moment that damn eye transformed. And it gained more presence too…”
“The bomb I made should’ve killed it. Should’ve erased everything within a five-kilometer radius…”
“Did it pull the Blood Moon down and merge with it?… I’m sure I felt that thing’s body vanish for a moment... is that what saved it?”
“A desperate move? Might’ve made it stronger—but it weakened everything else: the Blood Moon, the Starless Sky, the rest of the Blood Clouds that weren’t vaporized, the zombies, the eyes…”
“The False Sun might last a bit longer because of that—but I can already feel the Blood Moon recovering while the False Sun grows weaker…”
Finishing his muttered thoughts aloud, the Shadow Puppet turned to Jinn and said:
“Turn the Proto-A around and destroy as many demon eyes as you can. I’m going to test something... I think we’re on plan D at this point, let’s see if it works.” The thin white line that was his mouth twisted back into his usual manic grin.
“Don’t worry about 'The Eye'. That thing won’t stop targeting me. The first time it ignored me, I created a False Sun and weakened everything. The second, I nuked its retina and forced it to merge with the Blood Moon…”
“That abomination won’t risk letting there be a third time... I’ll make sure there’s no need for a fourth.”
“Dylan!” — He pointed toward the guide further off. — “Save your energy. Prepare your arrows with Lightning Dust and the one with the angel feather. Let the Proto-A handle the heavy lifting. You too, Jinn. If what I’m planning is even possible, I’ll need help holding that thing in place…”
“And don’t use the ammo with Aqua’s hair. I’m not risking the divinity in it feeding 'The Eye'. Use only the one with Purification Powder…”
He didn’t wait for confirmation. Didn’t say a word to the princess either. Melting into the shadow-covered floor filled with blinking, insane eyes, the human’s shadow vanished.
Princess Charlotte was the slowest to react. She hesitated, then sat down to meditate, trying to grasp what that feeling had been when she gave her speech earlier.
Dylan was already loading an arrow with Lightning Dust and matrices to amplify the bolt, while Jinn spun the ship 180 degrees and accelerated toward the demon eyes battling the flying Nightmares.
“What if plan D doesn’t work?” Jinn asked the air, sensing a lingering trace of the Shadow Puppet’s presence.
The answer came as a whisper that seemed to crawl across everyone’s skin:
“Then return to the kingdom, seal the barrier, and have Alalia reinforce it to the limit... Let’s see how much of the continent is left after that…”
“…This night will end, even if I have to make the Sun fall.”