Ruby finally stepped into the sacred heart of the Temple of Moonpetals.
A heavy sigh tore from her lips as the massive doors sealed shut behind her. The once-pristine back of her flowing white dress was now damp with sweat, clinging to her skin uncomfortably. She barely noticed.
It hadn't been easy — walking right past her murderers without letting the fury inside her explode.
The moment her gaze had locked onto them, every muscle in her body had screamed for vengeance. She had seen their smug faces, heard their honeyed voices, smelled the faint perfume of betrayal clinging to them like rot.
Every fiber of her being had demanded blood.
But at the final heartbeat... Ruby had wrestled the rage into submission. She couldn't lose control. Not yet.
Taking another shaky breath, she glanced around the grand temple. It was silent, the air thick with the scent of old incense and something...otherworldly.
"You're here," Ruby called out, her voice echoing into the hollow dome above. "Why don't you show yourself?"
A low chuckle answered her.
"Wow. You could sense my presence?"
From the shifting shadows near the altar, a figure shimmered into view — Lord Reevan.
He leaned casually against a pillar, arms folded across his chest, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.
"I've been here ever since you set foot in the Temple," he said. "Just in case you needed a hand."
Ruby shot him a weary look, too drained to scold him properly.
"I wasn't expecting you to let loose so many demons," she muttered.
Reevan's eyes twinkled with mischief as he pushed off the pillar and strolled closer. "And I wasn't expecting you to handle so many demons," he countered.
Ruby crossed her arms tightly over her chest, trying to gather her swirling thoughts.
"Do you even know what's going to happen now?" she asked, watching him warily.
Instead of answering directly, Reevan's grin only widened. "Those weren't just any demons you faced," he said smoothly. "Those were creatures sealed away for centuries in the Hollow. And not by just anyone— by Emperor Kunglang himself. Ruler of the heavens."
Ruby's jaw practically hit the floor.
She gaped at him, stunned into silence for a long moment.
A hundred mosquitoes could've flown into her mouth and she wouldn't have noticed.
"Holy moly," she finally squeaked, voice shrill. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?!"
The words exploded out of her, and before she knew it, Ruby was pacing — walking back and forth like a caged tiger. Her footsteps echoed sharply against the ancient stone.
Reevan laughed, utterly unbothered. "Why are you so tense?" he teased, watching her amusement.
Ruby threw her hands up in exasperation. "Tense? Tense?! If you'd told me I was about to unleash demons sealed by a heavenly emperor, I wouldn't have agreed!" she nearly shouted. Her voice bounced off the temple walls like a wild storm.
She was breathing hard now, her chest rising and falling with the weight of all that had just happened.
"Hey, chill," Reevan said, lifting his hands in a mock-surrender. "Even I was shocked when you sealed them up again. How the hell did you even do that?"
Ruby slowed her pacing, leaning heavily against the cool white wall of the temple. Her palm pressed against the stone, grounding her.
"I... I don't know," she admitted, her voice small. "I can't remember."
The memory was a blur.
When the demons had burst free, overwhelming the ceremony with darkness and terror, something inside her had stirred.
An ancient power — deep, primal, and terrifying — had risen up.
Words she didn't recognize had tumbled from her lips, burning her tongue as if they'd been waiting centuries to be spoken.
And one by one, the demons had been sucked back into the void, shrieking, thrashing, sealing themselves once more without Ruby even knowing how she commanded it.
Now, standing here, she realized she couldn't even remember exactly what she had said.
Reevan watched her silently for a moment, studying her as if seeing something new.
Then he smiled again — not his usual playful smirk, but something softer.
"Well, whatever it was," he said, "it worked. But you've stirred a hornet's nest now, Ruby."
He turned away, heading toward the temple's massive golden doors.
"Wait — what do you mean?" Ruby called after him.
"You'll have to face the king and his nobles now," Reevan said lightly, almost cheerfully. "The demons weren't just random. The court saw you seal them. They saw you use... divine power."
Panic flared in Ruby's chest.
"Reevan!" she shouted, starting toward him.
He turned, flashing her one last grin.
"If you need me, just call my name in your head. I'll come running," he said.
And with that, before she could get another word out, Lord Reevan vanished — slipping into the shadows like he had never been there at all.
The temple was silent again.
Ruby stood frozen for a moment, mouth opening and closing uselessly.
Then she let out a low, angry groan, dragging a hand through her tangled hair.
"Those damn vampires..." she muttered under her breath.
"Always leaving when the real trouble starts."
With a bitter smirk curling her lips, Ruby straightened her spine and turned toward the looming temple doors.
The court was waiting.
The king was waiting.
---
The heavy temple doors stood tall before her, carved with ancient prayers, veiled in morning mist. She hesitated for a moment, her breath trembling. Knowing that outside, King Arthro, the concubines, nobles, and guards awaited her presence, she quickly slipped into a new gown — a flowing robe of pure white, its long sleeves embroidered delicately with rose petals, shimmering faintly with enchantments.
With a flick of her fingers — magic she had painstakingly learned in solitude at the desolate Northern Watchtower — her hair wove itself into divine braids, soft and radiant as starlight. Her veil remained, obscuring her full face, but even so, an undeniable, otherworldly aura clung to her.
A deep breath filled her lungs.
Then, with the calm of one who has already lived and died once, Ruby placed her hand upon the ancient wood and pushed open the temple doors.
A gust of wind immediately caught her gown, whipping it around her like a living cloud of petals. The white fabric rippled and danced under the breaking dawn, as if heaven itself had stirred to welcome her.
Before she could even take a step, a ripple passed through the gathered crowd. One by one — nobles, imperial guards, and temple priests — dropped to their knees, stunned into reverence. They couldn't even see her full face, but the presence she exuded pressed down on their chests, commanding awe, fear, and hope in equal measure.
For a long heartbeat, there was only stunned silence.
Then a noble, voice breaking with emotion, cried out, "Welcome to the Moonpetal Temple, Goddess!"
The shout shattered the stunned hush. A wave of weeping followed, soft prayers and broken sobs falling like rain on the temple stones.
Yet amid the sea of kneeling figures, one man remained upright — King Arthro. His spine straight as an iron rod, his face carefully unreadable.
He was a king. He would not bow — not even to the heavens, and certainly not to an unknown figure wrapped in mystery.
At his side, Shithal, the concubine who clung so tightly to power, also stood tall, her eyes sharp with suspicion. The others — Queen Roselin and Concubine Fifi — had already departed for their palaces, shaken by the earlier chaos. But Shithal refused to leave, refused to blink, determined to uncover who this veiled goddess truly was.
Earlier, in the heart of the palace, King Arthro had ordered the alchemists and astrologers to erase every witness's memory of today's events. No word was to leave the capital. But a few powerful nobles had refused, insisting that they had witnessed a miracle — a goddess descending among them — and that no king's decree could strip them of it.
Their influence was too vast to crush.
For once, even Arthro had to bend.
Thus they had all waited, holding their breath through the night, longing for a glimpse of divinity.
And now she stood before them.
The breeze shifted again, and for a fleeting moment, the veil lifted slightly from Ruby's face. A shard of morning light fell across her features.
Gasps and cries filled the air. Two or three nobles broke into open sobs, clutching their chests, overwhelmed just by that glimpse.
Ruby felt their awe, their helpless devotion. It fed her spirit, warmed the cold pit of vengeance curled in her belly. She let them tremble a little longer before finally speaking.
Her voice, when it came, was soft but carried clearly across the courtyard — a bell in the stillness.
"All those gathered here, I know you have many questions," she said. "I will answer what I can."
The sound of her words seemed to calm the trembling masses — but it only fueled the fire burning behind Arthro's guarded gaze and the furious jealousy tightening Shithal's jaw.
Breaking the heavy silence, King Arthro stepped forward. His voice was calm, but his words were edged like knives.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
"And what is your intention?" Shithal added, her tone sharp, almost accusing.
Before Ruby could respond, a noble near the front — face flushed with devotion — stood up, turned on Shithal, and screamed:
"How dare you, a mere human, question the divine goddess?!"
Then, bowing low until his forehead touched the cold stone, he cried, "Oh, merciful goddess, forgive us for her ignorance. Do not punish us!"
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. Some bowed even lower, others wept harder.
Shithal, humiliated, clenched her gown so tightly in her fists that her knuckles turned white. Her face burned with rage, but she could not lash out — not here, not now. Not against someone the court had already crowned as heaven's messenger.
Ruby watched her with hidden satisfaction, feeling the first sweet taste of her vengeance beginning to bloom.
This was what she wanted. To see them crumble. To see them despair. Slowly, deliciously.
She let the silence linger before speaking again.
"I was summoned," Ruby said at last, "when the seal at this sacred temple was broken, and hundreds of demons spilled into the mortal realm."
Gasps erupted. Some crossed themselves; others whispered prayers.
"I could not ignore the temple's cry," she continued. "For years, I have lived beyond your reach, in a realm where time and mortal concerns are but echoes. There, I developed the skills necessary to battle the darkness. But when the temple wept for salvation, I answered."
She let her words fall like seeds into their trembling hearts.
The crowd erupted again.
"All thanks to you, Goddess!" they screamed, voices rough with emotion. Some even crawled forward on their knees, desperate just to be closer.
King Arthro said nothing. His face remained blank, but his mind raced.
This was no coincidence. No random miracle.
Something more dangerous was at play here.
For now, though, he would flow with the river, as he had always done.
Ruby lifted her hand slightly, and the crowd immediately fell silent, hanging on her every word.
"But know this," she said, her tone turning grave. "The demons broke the seal once. They can do so again. The kingdom is in grave danger. Even now, evil stirs beyond your borders. Though I wish to remain and guard you, I cannot linger here forever. I have duties in realms beyond your understanding."
"No, Goddess!"
A wave of desperate cries rose up.
"Don't abandon us!"
"Please, stay!"
Though Ruby hadn't named them, everyone felt the accusation in her words.
The "sinners" she mentioned — their gazes flickered instinctively to King Arthro and Shithal.
Tension tightened the air like a drawn bowstring.
King Arthro, feeling the tide turning swiftly against him, made a swift decision.
Slowly — stiffly — he bent a knee.
The king bowed to the goddess.
A collective gasp shook the courtyard.
The world itself seemed to hold its breath.
Seeing the king kneel, Shithal had no choice but to follow, her heart seething with resentment. Her silk gown pooled around her as she bowed deeply, hatred burning in her lowered eyes.
"Divine Goddess," Arthro said, his voice steady, "I, Arthro, King of this realm, humbly request that you remain in the Temple of Moonpetals and bless our land with your protection."
Ruby let him kneel there, feeling the weight of the moment.
Oh, how far they had fallen — the mighty king and his ambitious concubine.
And this was just the beginning.
She pretended to hesitate, letting the silence thicken. Then, she spoke again, her voice carrying kindness — and subtle command.
"Since the king himself has requested it," she said, "it would be ungracious of me to refuse. I shall remain — for now — and watch over your kingdom."
The nobles cheered, weeping openly.
The temple bells rang out of their own accord, echoing across the hills and valleys.
The goddess had come to stay.
---