Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic

Shard's right hand traced a radiant glimmer in the air, and Silvermoon's blade sliced through the blood fog's curtain, slashing at the woman as she softly kissed the ring. But apart from leaving another wound on her forehead, it had no effect.

The woman cackled wildly in her final moments, laughing hysterically as she uttered the spell words that Shard had failed to discern last time:

"In the shift from yang to yin begins a new life's spin!"

She slipped on the ring, and her broken body immediately billowed thick smoke. Lady Lassoya slowly closed her eyes as life neared its end.

At that moment, black smoke enveloped the woman's body. Shard, trying to stop her, once again heard the Whisper, the chewing within the smoke, and the curses of countless voices.

He reached out to thrust his hand into the smoke, to at least do something. But a boot emerged from the smoke and kicked Shard, toppling him back against the wall.

The black smoke dissipated, and a young man wearing a white pebble ring stood amidst the corridor's blood fog. He rotated his neck and snapped his fingers behind him. Discover exclusive tales on empire

With the arrival of Steam Mist and the sound of a steam whistle, the Six Rings Warlock's Ring of Fate shone behind the man, reflected in the eyes of Shard, who slumped against the wall:

"To change gender, to actually be able to..."

The doctor's desperate strike failed to kill the enemy, not because they were too weak. At this moment, Shard suddenly felt the dying man's emotions, the man dressed in burgundy formal wear not long ago.

"Indeed, the Keeper of Secrets Level Relic 'Transmutation Ring', a gender transformation along with the exchange of an entirely different body. Although this damned ring has given me some preferences I never had before, the ring itself is worth those costs,"

laughed the Six Rings Warlock, Jack Deon.

Clad in a sharp black suit, his shoes shone under the gaslight. The dust and disarray behind him, alongside the collapsed people in the corridor, seemed to highlight his triumph:Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"Hmm? Your clothes look awfully familiar. Oh well, it's not important, although I have no idea where you folks came from..."

He spoke aloud, as if delivering a speech at a significant public event, his articulation so precise it made Shard want to punch him. He was boasting, of the death-defying turnaround he had managed to pull off, how could he not gloat:

"But this time, it's clear that I've won."

Spirit Runes flickered with Spiritual Light behind him in the circle of the Ring of Fate, interpreted by Shard as the Black Iron 'Spell Words' of 'Arcane Technique' which were initiating Sorcery. But this Sorcery was not released, instead deliberately halted, as the man gazed at Shard and suddenly burst into laughter:

"The ritual's need for living sacrifices is still insufficient; that woman over there is menstruating, her impure blood is not suitable, these two men are too old, the host of the feast wouldn't like that."

Two steps forward, he lifted the severely injured Shard and then tossed him into the banquet hall, where he "reunited" with the dozens already unconscious there. The Detective rolled on the blood-red wool carpet, only stopping when he collided with a leg of the long table.

Struggling to open his eyes towards the door, he saw the double golden doors that Miss Luisa had previously broken slowly rise and close under the man's 'Metal Repair' Spirit Rune's Arcane Technique.

Shard, lying beside the banquet hall's long table, saw through the narrowing door crack the man walking with his back to them, ignoring the other three fallen people, instead ascending the stairs; the circle of magicians below was his true opponent.

The door slammed shut, the blood light flickered inside the room, gradually clouding Shard's vision. He did not know whether this was a sign of his impending death or the harbinger of the Evil God's forthcoming appearance.

His view growing blurry, he finally had the chance to cast Sorcery on himself, but the Sorcery could only ensure he wouldn't die, not keep him from succumbing to unconsciousness due to severe injuries.

But—

The small book in his pocket quietly radiated a soft glow, its sentences, written minutes before, now taking effect. The Poet-Level Relic, the "Orb of Silvermoon", hanging from his chest, was influenced by that light and emitted a silvery glow.

This Poet-Level Relic was exceedingly weak and wouldn't usually spiral out of control, but under the influence of the script, the orb cracked, and the silvery light shot directly into Shard's head.

Without surprises, he would have succumbed to permanent insanity because of Silvermoon.

In his coma, Shard suddenly awoke in his own dream.

The chaotic dream was replaced with a familiar one; he felt the night breeze. Looking around, he stood on the ridges of fields in the night. Shard slowly raised his head and saw the massive silver moon hanging among the stars, above the Star Ocean.

Beneath Silvermoon, Silvermoon in his eyes. The sanctified light intoxicated Shard, and the strange silver traces of light from Silvermoon, caused by the Relic's loss of control, deeply imprinted themselves in his mind.

He suddenly felt that he finally understood "Silvermoon", understood this arcane power. He stretched out his right hand, his fingers attempting to touch the moon disk in the night sky.

Then, at that moment, the Ring of Fate deep within his soul began to turn, the Core Rune "Silvermoon" starting to glimmer. The enhanced understanding of Silvermoon stimulated the resonance between the Rune and the Dream, forcibly rousing Shard and preventing him from succumbing to madness due to the Dream of the Moon.

However, the full power of the out-of-control Relic was etched into this momentary memory, making Shard feel as though Silvermoon was truly within his heart.

He had no idea how long he had been unconscious, but upon awakening, he could only see the dimly lit banquet hall, heavy with red blood mist as if painting the world crimson. The air was chillingly cold, the blood seeming to seep into his body through his pores.

The shrill Whisper of insanity seemed to presage that something terrible was about to happen. Enduring the intense pain and trembling of his body, he felt that "False Immortality" had been consumed due to the severity of his injuries, the Sorcery's effects extinguished as they were inflicted anew shortly after they were cast.

"This is bad, I need to leave the banquet hall quickly, or else..."

He propped himself up with support from the long table with a pure white tablecloth, but just then—

Ding-dang~

The crisp sound seemed to ring directly in his head, as if someone was tapping a small hammer against a bell, the signal for the start of the banquet.

The vibrating metal sound shook his spirit and soul, once again causing Phantoms to appear before his eyes, almost making it impossible for Shard to distinguish between reality and illusion. The blood-colored banquet hall took the place of the normal banquet hall, and the living sacrifices that had arrived before him also awoke to the sound of the bell at this moment.

The Blood Feast had begun.

Shard turned to run toward the door, but his body was completely out of control. The power of higher dimensions descended, and mortals, after all, were only mortals. Blood seeped from all senses simultaneously, and he trembled, slowly turning to look at the main seat of the banquet hall, looking towards the end of the long table.

He heard it, the ringing bell that marked the beginning of the feast;

He saw it, Goldware and Silverware filled with fresh human organs gradually appearing on the empty tabletop;

He smelt it, the sweet scent of food amidst the thick blood mist;

He touched it, the hanging bloodied corpses draped from the ceiling.

He felt it—

He felt it! At the other end of the long table, a figure in a red robe, seemingly stepping across from a distant dimension, materialized, gradually becoming clearer.