[Third Person’s PoV]

Once Lucian received confirmation that Medusa had officially joined his Covenant, a transformation began to take place. Her Gorgon features—scales, Golden feather wings, and the long protruding tail—started to recede, revealing the woman she had once been. Yet even as her more fearsome traits faded, the divine beauty she regained remained untouched. Holding the enchanted glasses in her hands, she stared at them in silent awe. She would no longer need to view the world through the safety of lenses—never again would she have to hide her gaze.

Meanwhile, Lucian summoned his weapon back into his hand. The chained scythe, a brutal extension of his will, collapsed into its compact ring form. However, as he turned the ring over in his palm, he noticed something troubling—a small portion of it had been visibly altered, tainted by the lingering effects of the petrification curse.

Sighing softly, Lucian murmured to himself, “I’ll need to repair this… maybe even upgrade it while I’m at it. When I have the time.”

He stared at the ring for a moment longer, letting its weight and damage sink in before slipping it carefully back onto his finger. With quiet purpose, Lucian made his way over to where his shadow soldiers stood at attention, their forms half-cloaked in the dim remnants of fading light. Medusa watched him curiously.

As Lucian approached, the soldiers silently parted, clearing a path for their master. He stepped into the center of the rubble—remnants of the cobblestone soldiers that once served the cursed Gorgon—and the shadows gathered around him. The soldiers formed a ring around the ruined stone floor, creating a solemn and ritualistic atmosphere. Medusa rose up slightly on her toes to get a better look. She was fascinated—unsure of what to expect, yet unable to look away. She remained just outside the circle, peering over shoulders with quiet anticipation.

Suddenly, the soldiers began to stomp in unison. A deep, echoing rhythm reverberated through the broken remains of the store, sounding like ancient war drums that heralded the coming of something great and terrible.

“Owhm! Owhm! Owhm! Owhm!”

They grunted and chanted together, their feet pounding, tails slapping the ground with increasing intensity. The sound grew louder, more haunting, reverberating through the walls like a heartbeat of shadow and steel.

Medusa looked around in confusion. She didn’t understand the ritual—but she couldn’t deny the energy in the room. Despite the eerie performance, every single shadow soldier wore a smile, their faces etched with pride as they chanted for their master.

Then, all at once, they fell silent.

Not a sound was made as Lucian raised his hand. In the stillness, his voice rang out, sharp and commanding:

“Arise.”

The shattered statues that once stood as grim trophies of Medusa’s cursed power had originally been people—travelers, warriors, innocents—drawn from every corner of the world, caught helplessly within her deadly gaze. They had once been alive. Then, they were stone. And finally, they had been desecrated by the cursed entity born from Medusa’s sorrow and rage—Crafted into being by the Goddess of Wisdom, and delivered unto the world by Lucian himself.

That cursed entity had reduced those petrified victims to dust, reshaping them in its image—protectors meant to defend her as cannon fodder, protectors she didn’t have during Medusa’s time of need.

But now, with one word, Lucian had reclaimed them.

No longer slaves to the curse, no longer bound by rage or blindness—they rose again. This time, under Lucian’s command. Their allegiance belonged to him alone.

From the remnants of shattered stone, figures began to emerge. Soldiers sculpted from shadow, forged from the memories of those who once were. Each carried a spectral version of the weapon they wielded in their stone form.

In perfect synchronization, they raised their weapons high, spun them downward, and slammed the blades or staffs into the earth. Then they knelt as one, taking a knee and bowing before their new master. Nearly a hundred soldiers—shadow-born and loyal—pledged themselves to Lucian in a single unified movement.

A heavy silence hung in the air, broken only when Ashura let out a thunderous roar of celebration. The other shadow soldiers joined in, howling and shouting in triumph, their voices rising like a storm.

Lucian, caught off guard by their exuberance, covered his face with one hand, trying to hide the flush of embarrassment blooming across his features.

“What just happened?” Medusa muttered in complete confusion, her voice laced with awe despite the bewilderment in her eyes. She had to admit, the sight had been impressive, almost majestic—but she couldn’t wrap her mind around what had just taken place.

“Alright,” Lucian called out, glaring at his soldiers in thinly veiled embarrassment. His voice rang with mock sternness. “Which one of you did it? Huh? Who was it? Someone fess up—who told everyone to pull that off?”

Laughter echoed among the soldiers, their joy unmistakable. Lucian’s eyes narrowed as he turned his accusatory gaze on Murder. “Was it you?” he asked, pointing a finger. “You just joined and weird stuff like this is already happening. You’ve got that kind of chaotic influence.”

Murder blinked at him, looking absolutely indignant. With a huff, she crossed her arms into an X and shook her head firmly in denial, her expression silently shouting, How dare you accuse me of such nonsense?

Then came the cough.

“Cough! Cough!”

Lucian’s attention immediately snapped to the source. His brow twitched in disbelief. There stood Ashura, swaying bashfully from side to side, his entire massive frame oddly demure. Two of his hands cutely clutched by his abdomen, while the other four pointed toward himself with shy guilt. All six of his eyes looked anywhere but at Lucian.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” Lucian groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It was you?”

The soldiers broke out into another round of chuckles, clearly finding the situation hilarious. With a heavy sigh, Lucian waved his hand and recalled all of his shadow soldiers back into his form. The laughter faded as they melted into the shadows, returning to his command. He closed his eyes and quietly tallied their numbers in his mind.

‘296/900…’ he thought with a sigh. ‘The amount I could hold increased since my magic increased because of that curse.’

When he opened his eyes, he saw Medusa still looking around, confusion lingering on her face. Noticing her expression, he decided to clarify. He explained briefly how his power worked—how his shadows functioned, what the soldiers were, and why they acted the way they did.

Medusa listened with growing interest, a small chuckle escaping her lips when he finished. “It seems to me like they really care about you,” she said with a warm smile.

Lucian’s cheeks turned a faint shade of red. “Come on,” he muttered, waving his hand. “Enough teasing already… Let’s focus on something a bit more important—like where you’re going to stay now.”

Medusa blinked in surprise. It hadn’t even crossed her mind until now. “That… That’s actually a good question. With my shop reduced to rubble, I don’t really have a place anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” Lucian said, unable to hide the guilt in his tone.

Medusa looked at him and placed a gentle hand on his head, ruffling his hair. “I’m not blaming you, kiddo. So stop beating yourself up over it.”

Lucian quickly adjusted his hair and nodded, then said, “Here’s what I’m thinking—though it’s still in the planning phase. I’m going to book you into a nice hotel. I’ll personally cover all the costs—”

“I can’t let you do that,” Medusa interrupted, shaking her head. “I don’t want to be a burden on you, Lucian.”

“You seriously underestimate how rich I am,” Lucian said, puffing up arrogantly with pride. “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to right now? You’re looking at The Dark Prince of Luxury. I’ve got more supernatural and mortal currency than I know what to do with. I could have 99 problems—money ain’t one!”

“…”

Lucian immediately deflated under her blank stare. “Sorry,” he muttered, scratching the back of his head. “But seriously, it’s no big deal for me. I’ll even lend you my Lotus Casino card—it’s got infinite funds. Actually… why not stay at the Lotus Casino!?”

He smacked his forehead. “Duh! That should’ve been the first idea.”

Medusa’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “I think I’ve heard of that place… Isn’t that the casino where time flows differently?”

“Exactly,” Lucian confirmed with a nod. “Which works in your favor, actually. While you stay there and rest up, I’ll get to work creating our Coven’s base of operations. Once the stronghold is finished, I’ll come and get you. That’ll be your new home—and a sanctuary for anyone else we bring into the fold who doesn’t have a place to belong.”

Medusa tilted her head, considering his words. “Well, you are the leader of this Covenant. If that’s your plan, I’ll trust your judgment.”

“Thank you,” Lucian said, his voice soft with sincerity. “I’ll make sure not to let you down. Shall we get started?”

“Wait a minute,” Medusa said suddenly, turning away from him. “I want to see if anything here is still salvageable. There might be items or materials I can still use—you never know what could be of value.”

Lucian gave a respectful nod. “Alright. I’ll help you out—it’ll speed things up.”

Together, the two of them stepped forward, sifting through the ruins before Lucian dropped her off.

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