Orpheus knelt down, wrapping his arms around Eurydice’s lifeless body. Her skin was already cold to the touch, her lips pale and drained of color, and blood had soaked through her favorite white dress.

“Eurie, Eurie, please wake up. I’m back now,” he whispered, his hands trembling.

“Dad, where were you? They killed Mom! Those bastards killed her!” cried his eldest son, his words breaking apart in sobs.

This boy was Lyron, the seven-year-old child of Orpheus and Eurydice. Beside him stood his little sister, Melora, who was only two years old.

“Mommy, I want mommy! I want mommy back!” Melora wailed.

“I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry. This is all my fault,” Orpheus said, his tone weighed down by guilt.

Melora sniffled, tears streaming down her face.

“Daddy, please bring mommy back.”

With a tender touch, Orpheus brushed his hands across the children’s eyes, and at that gesture, they drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep. He gathered them into his arms with steady care, holding them for a brief moment before giving them to the dragon that stood beside him.

“Aure, please take them back to Lumenos. Stay at Soltice for now. Please ask Aunt Eirene to look after them for me,” he said.

“I understand,” the dragon replied. “But what about you? What are you planning to do?”

“There is something I need to take care of,” Orpheus answered.

In the next instant, his entire body expanded and blazed with intense radiance, transforming into the shape of a brilliant sun as he soared upward into the sky.

“Orpheus! Orpheus! What the hell are you doing?” the dragon roared in alarm.

He spread his wings out of instinct, wanting to chase after Orpheus, but then he remembered the two sleeping children cradled next to him.

“Damn it!” he cursed.

Aaron, watching from a distance, stood stunned at the myth-like scene unfolding before his eyes. The pitch-black night sky above Thrace yielded to daylight as Orpheus rose higher and higher.

“What is going on?” someone muttered.

“Oh, by the Flow!” another gasped.

“It’s the end! Repent now!”

“My Gods!”

Millions of people lifted their heads, their eyes wide, as they witnessed the miracle above them.

Then, far beyond the stars, an immense and hazy blue river manifested in the sky. Orpheus’s glowing true form drifted into the Flow of Destiny, allowing the current to carry him forward as he headed toward the Abyss with firm resolve.

As the sun disappeared, darkness returned to the world below. But after witnessing such a sight, it was certain that many people would not be able to sleep that night.

Aaron was still trying to touch everything he suspected. He could swear that if he were still in a living body instead of a soul, sweat would be streaming down his forehead.

“Damn it. How much time is left? Am I almost out of time? It’s not Eurydice’s body. It’s not the sun. Then what the hell can it be?” he muttered.

Once Orpheus entered the Great Flow, he withdrew his light and disguised himself as nothing more than an ordinary soul.

“At last … I’ve found you,” he whispered.

Eurydice’s body floated in the water, lying on her back with her hands placed over her stomach, her eyes closed as if in eternal sleep.

Orpheus reached out to grab her, but his fingers passed straight through. At that moment, the voice of his mighty father echoed in his mind:

“The Flow of Destiny is the ultimate law. It is the Supreme Circulation, the will that cannot be defied. No one, not even the gods, can seize just an ordinary soul from its embrace. The only way is to wait until the soul falls out of the current, and then you can snatch it back.”

“No one? Not even the King of Gods?”

“Not even him. If there is one day you have to descend into the Abyss, you must keep yourself hidden from all eyes. And remember this well: never, under any circumstances, go beyond the second layer. The first layer is the final boundary for all living beings.”

With that warning echoing in his heart, Orpheus drew back every trace of his power. His body became transparent, just like Eurydice’s, and he closed his eyes, drifting in silence alongside her.

He leaned close to her ear, singing her favorite song with a tender tone, in the hope that some miracle might happen.

After a long while, the Flow plunged downward into a massive chasm. The surrounding space grew darker and darker until, looming ahead, an immense gate appeared. It was as vast as a world, built from living flesh, bone, blood, and all kinds of wailing beings fused together. The Supreme Circulation passed through the gate and entered the Underworld.

Below stretched a boundless plain blanketed in a soft, gray mist. The sky gave off a dim, ghostly glow, like a moonlit night shrouded by thin clouds. The very air here was thick with silence, regret, and an overwhelming sorrow that seemed endless and unshakable.

It felt as though time itself had stopped.

The Underworld, Orpheus thought.

But Eurydice did not fall at this level. The Flow carried her further downward, toward the second layer. Orpheus’s body trembled with a subtle shiver, but he still followed right by his wife and kept singing to her.

At the next layer, Aaron could see a luminous amber moon hanging high in the sky, its glow unchanged for eternity after eternity. Its shimmering light flowed like water over the depths, bringing a gentle touch to the realm of the dead.

“So beautiful,” Aaron whispered in awe.

But Orpheus did not share that sentiment. He held his breath as he gazed up at the amber moon, well aware of the powerful entity it represented. To his relief, nothing happened as they passed through. Yet that very lack of disturbance was also its own form of misfortune, for it meant they would continue descending.

The deeper they went, the more oppressive the air became. From lust, to gluttony, to greed, wrath, and pride, Eurydice had never committed any serious offenses among them. With each layer they passed, Orpheus’s heart grew colder. This continued until they reached the seventh one.

Violence.

As if his song had at last moved the Everwaving Tide, at that moment, Eurydice finally slipped free from the Flow, falling toward the river of blood and fire below.

How could this be? Eurie has never killed anyone! Is it because she killed herself? Orpheus frowned, but he didn’t waste a second. He darted forward and caught her in his arms.

He lifted his head, glancing upward. Now was the time to go back. Returning would be a thousand times harder than coming down, but he believed he could do it.

As he held her, Eurydice began to regain consciousness little by little. Her eyelids fluttered open.

“I’m so sorry, Eurie, everything is my fault. It’s my fault for hiding the truth from you. I’ll bring you home, and when we’re back, I’ll explain everything,” Orpheus said, his voice filled with remorse.

Eurydice looked around in confusion. Terror began to spread across her face, and she screamed:

“Run! Run away now! Leave me!”

“Run?” Orpheus repeated, bewildered.

“It’s already too late!” Eurydice cried and smiled.

Aaron noticed her eyes changing. They grew sharp, glimmering with mockery as though she were both contemptuous and amused. Her pupils began to change, turning into horizontal rectangles.

“What is going on? Are you feeling well?” Orpheus asked.

Then a searing pain tore through his shoulder, forcing him to release Eurydice and leap backward in retreat.

The woman he had once known as his wife was no longer human. She had transformed into a hideous monster, with a long, segmented body resembling that of a centipede. Hundreds of bloody, skinless arms protruding from its sides, and six heads resembling those of mountain goats sprouting from its torso. One of the goat heads was already chewing on a piece of flesh, its jagged teeth dripping with glowing ichor.

“Don’t eat it!” Eurydice shouted at the goat head just as it was about to swallow the bloody piece of Orpheus’s flesh. “Our prize is the heart. That part belongs to them. Don’t give those old fools an excuse to start a conflict.”

“Eurie … no. Who are you? Where is my Eurie?” Orpheus growled, his shoulder wound already beginning to heal.

Eurydice’s face softened, filled with anger, sorrow, hatred, and despair. She screamed and shouted:

“Stop! Let him go! I swear, if any of you so much as lay a hand on him, one day I will hunt you down, every last one of you! Hide in the deepest pit of the Abyss if you wish; I will still find you. I will grind your bones to dust, drink the marrow of your screams, and bind your souls so that you will never know rest for all eternity!”

And within mere seconds, her expression turned cold and distant once again, as if she had become a different creature altogether.

“Noisy.” Tarisel frowned. “Anyway, Eurydice is me, or to be more precise, she is one of my personalities. It was not in vain that we risked everything, drifting along the Flow all the way to the Longing Sea to be reborn. At last, we have lured you here.”

They stared at Orpheus and declared:

“Surrender yourself and hand over both your body and your heart. If we are in a good mood, we might spare your soul and accept you as our servant.”

Orpheus looked at the face of his wife. Although her features had not changed at all, at this moment, she carried an unnerving aura that made her appear handsome in an uncanny way.

Yet amid the chaos, Orpheus caught a flicker in Tarisel’s eyes; not malice, not mockery, but something heavier.

Eurie …? No … that look … Tazriel.

He gave a slow shake of his head and replied:

“Then I will erase you, along with every other personality, until only she remains. Do you really think an archdemon like you can stand against a divine being like me?”

As he spoke, a blazing armor materialized, covering his entire body. In his right hand, he summoned a glowing orange spear of light from the air.

“Foolish. We’ll give you one last chance: surrender or die. Make your choice with care, Orpheus. I know you are not a fool.” Tarisel’s voice was ice-cold,

“Shut your mouth,” Orpheus snarled through gritted teeth as he charged forward.

But Tarisel did not move or even try to dodge. They watched in silence, taking no further action.

The reason for their confidence became clear in an instant.

A sharp black claw, crafted with exquisite precision like a piece of lethal artwork, tore through the very fabric of space and slashed toward Orpheus. He raised his spear to block it, but the overwhelming force still drove him backward.

“Well done, Tarisel,” a voice said.