I am the Only Son of Nyx

Bree didn’t glance back at the unconscious Ragnar.

For him to come to her demanding help was an insult to her.

He actually thought that he had a chance to convince her to agree to protect him.

It would be different if he was simply following orders from the higher-ups, but the problem between him and Kai had become personal. He made that abundantly clear when he tortured Kai with his own two hands.

Bree might not be there to see, but she saw his slightly bruised knuckles.

Clearly, he had punched someone, and that someone was most likely to be Kai.

And for that, she would never help him.

Of course, Bree was tempted to kill him on the spot and dump him in a cultivated cloud to blame it on the Awakened Monsters or Star Beasts there. But she decided to not do that as she was afraid it would tamper with whatever Kai had in store for him.

Besides, Ragnar was already a walking dead man anyway.

Either the Demigod would send someone to kill him, or the Chancellor would.

Let the world swallow him naturally.

’Professor Hera is one of the Fallen, huh...’ Bree continued on her way, gaze fixed on the road as she contemplated this finding. ’If that was the case, then I understand why she became like that. Sadly, she wouldn’t be around anymore.

’Either she got away and went into hiding, or she’s dead.’

An exasperated sigh escaped her lips.

Just the thought of breaking the news to Kai already drained him.

She didn’t want Kai to be sad.

Right now, or at least for the entire week, he should be basking in the reward of his victory.

Everyone in the entire academy knew that he deserved it.

Instead of going to meet with Kai and break the news, Bree decided to keep the information until later. She changed her destination and headed straight to the main building. She still had one thing to check.

Bree arrived at the main academy building.

She passed the two grey-masked Angels at the main entrance, and they saluted at the sight of her—quick, deferential movements that reminded her how much had changed in a day. She didn’t return the gesture, and then stepped inside.

As soon as she crossed the threshold, she activated Nigh-phantom.

Almost instantly, the shadows welcomed her like an old friend, folding around her body and swallowing her presence. She became a phantom, slipping through the darkened corridors—making not a single sound or leaving a trace.

It was already nearing midnight now, and the building was already quiet.

Most students had retreated to their dorms, and all the professors had long since returned to their homes. Bree moved upward, clinging to the walls and the pools of shadow. She reached the corridor leading to the professor’s headquarters.

It was dim, but not empty.

Bree saw two students lingering near the far end; their voices low and tired.

She pressed herself into an alcove and waited.

Her breathing slowed, and her body remained perfectly still—as they passed without noticing her. She let out a soft breath and emerged from the shadow. Her steps were silent as she went toward the door.

Unlike the student council room that might still hold a few students, this room was empty.

For the professors, better to leave as soon as class ended to spend time with their families.

Bree reached for the doorknob and twisted.

Locked—as expected.

She wasn’t surprised to find that it was locked.

Expertly, she raised her index finger and pointed at the keyhole, casting her Legacy Imprint.

A thin membrane made entirely of mana—extended from her fingertip, slipping into the lock like a living key. She felt the tumblers through the membrane. She adjusted, twisted, and then coaxed it.

A minute passed in perfect silence, and then the lock clicked open.

Bree allowed herself to smile before she twisted the doorknob and slipped inside.

She kept her back close to the wall as she closed the door again.

And then, her eyes scanned the darkness.

From using the Nigh-phantom multiple times already to make her life easier, she had learned that as long as she had mana, people couldn’t really see her properly without intent. That also included inanimate things, too, like CCTVs.

But keeping her form obscured from the cameras required more mana.

And she felt the drain with every passing second.

Bree ignored it as this was important.

Directly across from the table was Professor Hera’s desk, and it had already been cleared.

She clicked her tongue in frustration and began searching the desk.

Drawers, shelves, even loose floorboards. Nothing. Bree moved to the other professors’ desks, thinking that she might be hiding the key and the map on another professor’s desk in case her identity was exposed like right now.

But Bree still found nothing.

"Hm... She said it was near her desk." Bree fixed her eyes on Professor Hera’s desk again.

She walked back over and pressed her hand against the corner wall, probing for some sort of secret compartment. Her hands moved left and right, and then she felt something soft. A spot that didn’t feel like a wall.

For a second, Bree stared at the spot, and then pressed even harder.

It was then that she saw the square-shaped outline.

She pushed even harder—and a piece of the wall cracked away, startling her. As it turns out, the piece was a metallic cover painted to match the wall perfectly. And inside was a wooden compartment that stored a key and a map.

Exactly as Professor Hera had promised.

Bree took the key and the map.

She didn’t even check both items, certain that it was the items that Professor Hera mentioned.

Like a passing wind, she turned and slipped out through the door again. She didn’t forget to relock it with a soft click—leaving no sign or trace other than the faint whisper of darkness where she had been.

...

A figure soared through the sky.

Around her, the air was thick with mana so dense it could easily suffocate weak Angels, and beneath the weight, corruption coiled—like a serpent in the dark. Above, the clear starry night sky was stained with a deeper shade of unnatural blue.

In this place, the Blue Void’s presence was more prominent—the Third Sky.

A place of power and poison, and the figure soaring through moved as if she belonged here.

Her winged boots carried her with an almost spectral grace—the black wings, rimmed with a glittering brown outline, were far stronger than regular winged boots. Each beat sliced through the air with ease.

A ghostly dark brown robe trailed behind her, rippling like smoke caught in a slow wind.

It created the illusion as if her entire form was made of shadow.

She flapped the wings harder with a discharge of mana—and blasted forward with greater speed. Soon, she encountered a small mass of cloud. A floating isle that cradled a sliver of old and forgotten land.

On it, the structure was deliberate.

An ancient marble staircase—that followed the rise and fall of the terrain rather than carving through it, as if the architect had chosen harmony over conquest. It led straight through what looked like a temple and its front yard of stone.

Slowly, then the woman descended and landed at the base of the stairs.

Not the top.

One could instantly tell that there was a reverence in that choice. An acknowledgment of the place’s sanctity, or perhaps out of respect for the owner. She ascended with measured steps—the marble underneath her feet was cool and smooth.

It took two minutes before she reached the summit.

And when she did, she scanned the area.

On the left was the temple, and it was only half-standing. Not because it had crumbled under the test of time, but because the structure was made that way. To the right was the stretch of the stone front yard.

At the center of it was a single, massive tree.

Its roots entwined with the stone and its branches reached toward the blue-stained sky.

A figure emerged from the shade of the tree, and the sight of him made the woman still.

He walked with the unhurried confidence of a sovereign stepping into his own domain. His face was hidden behind a monster-shaped mask, with demented facial features and curving fangs that protruded from the mouth.

Its contours were both elegant and unsettling, crafted from something pure and polished.

A black robe adorned with gold embroidery draped across his form.

Each thread caught the faint light and glinted like trapped starlight. He was humanoid, but a long, armoured tail poked out of the hole on the back of his robe, and it slithered like a snake. Its scales whispered against the marble.

Despite the woman’s arrival, the man didn’t acknowledge her.

He didn’t even cast a glance or slow down.

Dominantly, the man ascended the wide staircase guarded by two hunched stone statues of a monster. Their spines protruded—as serrated blades, and curving bones erupted from their backs in cruel arcs.

Bat-like wings folded inward, covering their bodies as if shielding some ancient secret.

For a second, the woman’s gaze lingered on the statues before returning to the man.

But he was already gone, disappearing into the temple’s interior.

Surprise crept into her eyes as it seemed like the man was insinuating her to follow him.

It was a first.

She followed quickly, ascending the wide staircase—and then slipped through the imposing marble pillars and into the heart of the temple. There, at the center, the man sat upon a square marble seat.

His posture was relaxed yet absolute.

It was the woman’s first time entering this temple.

Normally, she was limited to the outside of it.

And then her eyes were instantly pulled toward the centerpiece of this place.

Before the man, on the marble wall, hung a massive painting—a curving canvas that depicted a cloudy darkness that seemed to shift and writhe as though alive. As though the canvas was a portal to another dimension.

Only the sun-gold frame contained the darkness depicted in it.

And the man stared into it without moving, as if he could see through the darkness itself.

Past the clouds and into something far beyond ordinary sight.

The woman halted at the threshold, unsure whether to speak or to wait. The silence stretched, thick and expectant, broken only by the faint rustle of the tree outside and the slow, steady rhythm of her own breath.

Unable to bear the silence for any longer, the woman bowed down ninety degrees.

A sign of respect before she voiced her intention for this visit.

"Lord Marsius..." She whispered the name, and then bowed even deeper. Nervousness crept up her throat, knowing that her visit wasn’t something that the man wanted. "I’ve brought bad news about the Lesser Angel."