The valley was hushed, held in the aftermath of light and shadow. The remnants of the shattered altar flickered like dying embers, and Tessara's silver aura pulsed faintly against the gloom.
She lay still, her head nestled gently in the crook of Shin's arm, skin cool and radiant like the moon above. The blindfold over her eyes shimmered as if responding to the magic still clinging to the air.
Then she stirred.
A tremor rolled through the earth, subtle but undeniable. Tessara's hand gripped Shin's tunic as her body arched slightly, and the fire etched into the mirror flared violently.
Suddenly, she floated in mid-air, and a mask appeared, floating above her face. Yoshimatsu morphed to the orb again, releasing the mirror's other half.
As soon as the mirror and the mask combined, the mask suddenly attached to Tessara's face. She screamed in pain, the corruption still held, trying to grip onto her and unleashed a column of blue flame that spiraled toward the sky.
Zera's eyes widened. "Her mana, it's unstable!".
Laverna tried to cast a spell, but Tessara's mana pressure was overwhelming, having a magical override field surrounding her. "She's going nuclear!"
Tessara whimpered. "I can't hold it back... It's too much!"
Shin reached up to her as his left hand instinctively stretched out to her, his mark glowing with golden light. He didn't hesitate.
The warmth in his chest deepened, aligning with the mirror's pulse. He channeled the energy not to suppress the mask, but to guide it, to stabilize it.
The column of fire stuttered, then compressed, curling back into the mask with a sharp inhalation of breath. The flames stilled, and the mask dimmed, its power no longer rampant but resting, contained.
Tessara gasped and fell. Shin caught her just in time, landing in his arms.
She clutched Shin's wrist. Her mask glowed with pale light, and her voice trembled. "You... you saw it, didn't you?"
Shin nodded slowly. "A vision. Tsukuyomi."
Behind her closed eyes, the celestial deity had appeared. Nine tails, each a beam of moonlight, had danced behind Tessara. The illusions had shimmered like reflections on water, ancient, divine, and profound.
The vision still echoed behind Shin's eyes.
Everyone watched as the connection with Shin made them see the visions, too. Zera stood protectively nearby, sword drawn but lowered. "That wasn't just magic. That was... memory. Legacy."
Tessara stirred again, disoriented. Her brow furrowed as she breathed heavily, reaching toward Shin as if unsure of her surroundings. "Where... where are we?" she whispered.
Shin smiled at her, reassuring her. "Still with me," he said softly. "You're safe."
His voice seemed to tether her, and slowly, her expression steadied.
After he put her down, she rose onto her knees with effort, her hand still locked with his. Her breath was ragged, but her spirit flared bright. "The mask was waiting for you. I was waiting. You're not just its bearer... you're its balance."
Before Shin could answer, Tessara leaned in.
Her lips met his with sudden, fervent intensity.
Time stilled.
The kiss was not delicate. It was a vow, searing and desperate, as if she were branding her soul to his. Her Servant Crest ignited between her shoulder blades, luminous silver lines flaring outward in blooming sigils that pulsed with magic.
Shin froze. His eyes widened, and for a heartbeat, he nearly pulled away. This wasn't what he expected. Not here. Not now. But something deep within him resonated—a whisper, like a reflection in the mirror's surface. An unknown force called to him, echoing the same pull that had once linked him to Zera, to Laverna.
The mark on his palm pulsed, and his hesitation faded.
He didn't pull away.
The warmth that spread through him wasn't just magical. It was emotional. He felt her pain, her loyalty, her plea. This wasn't just about magic. Tessara was binding her heart to his.
A third ring etched itself into the seal on his hand, glowing like moonlight on still water.
When Tessara pulled back, her breath ghosted across his cheek. "I offer myself to you," she whispered, "not as a prisoner... but as your moon. Your shadow. Your voice in the dark."
The silver light of her crest dimmed, fading into a soft glow across her back. Laverna had been silent until now. The kunoichi stood just behind Shin, one hand clenched at her side. Her eyes hadn't left the kiss.
Then she exhaled. "Tch. You're not subtle, are you?"
Tessara turned her head, her eyes wearing the mask that covers her eyes, forming a fox mask. "I meant no offense. I... only wished to pledge myself clearly."
Laverna stepped forward. "I get it." She glanced at Shin, then back at Tessara. "Just don't expect me to sit quiet while you act like the only one who gives a damn."
Tessara smiled gently. "I never did."
A moment passed between them, silent but charged. Then Laverna's Servant Crest sparked. Flames licked up her arms as she moved beside Tessara, lifting her hand toward the heavens.
"Then let's make this count."
Tessara's own hand followed, and the two women stood in tandem. Lunar silver and kunoichi flame spiraled together, forming a radiant helix that illuminated the entire valley.
The cultists that remained had been lurking beyond the mists, hoping to ambush or salvage the ritual. But something shifted.
It wasn't just the light or the power—it was fear—the mask, newly bound, pulsed with an ancient resonance that whispered of judgment and ruin. Among the cultists, some cried out as the illusion of tails—nine of them—flared behind Shin like ghostly banners.
One screamed, "It sees us! The fox watches!"
Another dropped his weapon. "Retreat! To Kharzad! The ritual has failed!"
The mists fractured as the shadows broke and scattered. Cowardice overtook zeal, and the black-robed figures vanished into the dark, their chants silenced.
The light Laverna and Tessara conjured purified the land as if the Falzath influence had been scattered in the winds, purified in the light. The air seemed to feel lighter, the land liberated from darkness.
Zera stepped beside Shin, her blade clean, her aura focused. "They're heading north. Toward the mountains."
She glanced once more at Tessara and Shin, and then, almost to herself, murmured, "I thought I'd seen devotion before... but this, this is faith."
Shin narrowed his eyes. "Kharzad... I feel that's where Falzath's last sanctum lies in this region."
Tessara turned toward his voice. "Then that's where we go next."
Shin helped her to her feet. She leaned on him for just a moment longer before standing on her own. Her magic lingered faintly in the air, creating gentle illusions—reflections of foxes darting in and out of sight like spirits.
Laverna stared. Her expression blanked for a full second.
Then she threw up her hands. "Are you kidding me?! That's three! Are you secretly building a harem and just forgot to tell the rest of us?"
Tessara tilted her head. "A harem?"
Zera smirked, folding her arms. "It's an old term. Usually reserved for overachievers with questionable luck and magnetism levels."
"I'm standing right here," Shin muttered.
"And collecting strays," Laverna shot back.
Zera nodded. "Like some wandering shrine maiden herding elemental disasters."
"Hey now," Shin said, frowning.
Tessara raised a finger in innocent curiosity. "Does that make me the 'disaster'?"
"You're moon-powered and nearly vaporized a valley," Laverna quipped. "So yes. You're now officially Disaster Number Three."
Zera gave a soft chuckle. "At least you're in good company."
Shin ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "You're all impossible."
"And yet," Laverna smirked, "you don't seem to mind."
Shin sighed, not understanding what Laverna and the rest of the party meant. The girls just laughed and continued on.
They stepped away from the shattered altar together. Behind them, the ruins of the cult's work smoldered. But ahead, the path to Kharzad waited.
Unity had been forged not through battle alone, but through choice.
And the moon, long bound in silence, had chosen to sing again.
Far to the north, the mountain citadel of Kharzad stirred. Black torches lit along its spires, and the remaining cult leaders knelt before a shrouded figure upon a throne of bones.
"The mask has awakened," whispered a voice from the darkness. "And so has the mirror."
The figure's eyes gleamed beneath his hood, burning with golden corruption.
"Let them come. We are ready."