The next morning, at Mariana Market.

  Luther’s group was having breakfast at a small cafe along the market’s main street. They had chosen an outdoor table under the shade of a large elder tree whose branches were heavy with clusters of purple blossoms. Across the street stretched a beach of soft white sand, where gentle blue waves rolled in and kissed the shore.

  Aaron seemed hesitant as he looked at the slice of toast sitting on the plate in front of him.

  To be fair, the toast looked delicious: its crust had been toasted to just the right point, golden and crisp without a trace of burning. Slices of avocado were neatly arranged over the bread, topped with a fried sunny-side-up egg, its yolk glowing a rich golden yellow.

  There was just one thing that made Aaron pause: the layer of red-and-white jam spread underneath. It shifted and wriggled in a slow, continuous squirm, looking like some kind of disturbing living slime, or perhaps a flat slug, still very much alive.

  “That’s rockbrain berry jam,” Acher said between bites, his tone carrying a note of nostalgia. “Back in the day, it was a delicacy reserved just for nobles, since it could only be grown on the Black Amber Peninsula. Seeing it has become so common now… that’s actually kind of nice.”

  “Tastes great,” Luther mumbled while chewing.

  Aaron took a deep breath, bracing himself, then bit off a small piece. His eyes lit up almost in an instant.

  The jam was smooth and creamy, melting on his tongue with a flavor reminiscent of roasted liver, except softer, richer, more fragrant, and more buttery. Combined with the crisp texture of the toast, the richness of the avocado slices, and the runny warmth of the egg yolk, the taste was so balanced that Aaron slowed his chewing just to savor every bit of it.

  Beside Luther, on a fourth plate, was a tall stack of toasts. The largest pumpkin was busy gnawing away at them, while the other two pumpkins were still sound asleep, resting right next to him.

  “Slow down, Jack-O,” Luther said. “Don’t choke.”

  That was the name he had decided to give the big pumpkin.

  “That’s a boy’s name, right? How do you even know his gender?” Aaron asked.

  “Written in the Book of Fate,” Luther replied.

  “There’s actually a way to tell. Male ghostfire pumpkins have the base of their head vine split into two, and their fur tends to be a darker shade. Females have just one head vine, and their fur is lighter in color,” Acher explained.

  “Ohh, so that means we’ve got two boys and one girl,” Aaron said.

  “That’s correct. This species of demon is pretty interesting. They grow from their mother’s vine; any that fail to awaken intelligence will ripen and rot like ordinary fruit, but the lucky ones that manage to ignite ghost-fire will gain a soul and become ghostfire pumpkins. Being half-plant and half-animal, they can hop or use their vines like legs to move around. And they taste amazing, too,” Acher said, licking his beak.

  “No eating them,” Luther warned, narrowing his eyes at the raven.

  Acher took a sip of chilled opaz cherry juice before speaking again.

  “Hey Aaron, could you use your EPhone to check if anything happened to the Origin that made all the gods leave?”

  It was something that had been nagging at him since he’d woken up. Even though the Gaian beings had shaped countless new worlds, Earth, being the Origin of all realms, shouldn’t have been abandoned so easily.

  “Sure, let me see!”

  Aaron started searching online. Most results mentioned something called The Pact of Sacred Fire. He tapped on one of the pages detailing the event.

  “Oh, here it is. Six thousand years ago, the magic levels on the Origin dropped to a record low,” he read aloud. “Seizing the opportunity, the Ether Wizard Union, the Order of the Celestial Knights, Breath of Nature, and other powers formed the Council of Beings and pressured the Peak of Glory. Even powerful entities from ancient eras came forth in support of the Council. At the end, the King of Gods was forced to compromise.”

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  “The Pact of Sacred Fire was signed, and every being of demigod rank or higher had to leave the Origin. The remaining supernatural creatures and magical communities were also forbidden from directly interfering in the development of the mortal world. From that point on, the Origin was freed from the shadow of divine intervention, and human civilization began to flourish.”

  “So that’s the reason why. I didn’t expect the Flame of Enlightenment back then to have grown to that extent,” Acher muttered. “And it’s hard to believe that arrogant brat actually backed down. But to be honest, it should be one of his best decisions so far.”

  “Why?” Aaron asked.

  “If what’s written there is true, then on that day nearly all Major Beings were present at the Peak of Glory. Tsk.” Acher clicked his tongue. “If a battle of that scale had broken out, the entire Cosmos would likely have been shattered back into primordial chaos.”

  Aaron and Luther exchanged a glance, fear mirrored in both their eyes.

  “So basically,” Acher chuckled, “those brats were kicked out because they were too loud, too powerful, and too bad at sharing a playground… The gods being gone must make Earth the only place in the Cosmos where mortal creatures get to grow up on their own.”

  “What was life like for humans back then?” Aaron asked.

  “Simple,” Acher said with a shrug. “The lucky ones were under protection. The unlucky ones became slaves or food to the strong creatures.”

  Both boys frowned at the thought.

  “We’re lucky to be born in this era. Peace, civilization, and amazing food,” Aaron said.

  “Very true. You kids have no idea just how insane those ancient battles between divine beings were,” Acher said with a nod. “If helllords are considered the embodiment of raw bestial instinct, then the divine beings of the cosmos were, in some aspect, cold-blooded supreme entities. Both are nightmares for all living. That incident will forever remain the greatest stain of Olympus.”

  “What incident?” Luther asked.

  “That’s a secret.”

  The two boys:

  “…”

  They didn’t bother pressing him. They were used to the raven’s habit of dangling half-answers by now.

  “That’s why the Serenity was so incredible,” Aaron said.

  “The Serenity?” Acher tilted his head.

  “You don’t know? Oh, right, I forgot, you were sealed at the time. I know about it from Orpheus’s memories,” Aaron said. “Nine thousand years ago, the Cerulean Moon rose from the Abyss and merged with the Flow of Destiny, causing it to stir. The punishment for the ruthless was engraved into the Supreme Circulation and placed an invisible chain around all beings.”

  Nine thousand years ago? Could it be…? Luther snapped his head toward Acher, who perched on his shoulder in silence, lost in Aaron’s words.

  “The result,” Aaron continued, “is that if a large-scale massacre ever takes place, every single mastermind involved will face the judgment of violence. No one can escape it, not even Major Beings. This law directly affected the gods, who usually wield their power without the slightest concern for the mortals around them. Ever since then, most world-ending battles between cosmic beings have happened far away from the inhabited territories of intelligent species.”

  Aaron took a long breath before going on:

  “Even large-scale wars became rarer and rarer as the rulers fear having the Flame of Judgment brought down upon them. From that moment on, Gaian worlds officially achieved peace on a macro scale, marking the long-awaited end of the grief-stricken Era of Weeping. The day the Cerulean Moon ascended is celebrated every year, and people have come to call it the Serenity.”

  His voice carried a deep tone of admiration.

  “And to think, I’ve been celebrating it every single year without knowing the real story behind it. I always thought it was just an ancient peace holiday passed down through the ages. Now I guess the truth was hidden from the mortals,” he said.

  Luther nodded in agreement, though his expression was a little absent.

  “So it’s called the Serenity,” Acher murmured.

  Luther gently stroked the raven’s feathers.

  When the group finished breakfast and went for a stroll, the two other pumpkins finally woke up. They looked around with wide eyes.

  “Squeak squeak?” one of them peered at Luther, its gaze filled with curiosity.

  “Squeak!!” the other let out a sharp cry, as if calling for something, its round body trembling.

  Jack-O climbed up onto Luther and began reassuring his younger brother and sister.

  “Squeak squeak!”

  After a short while, the other two pumpkins calmed down. Luther sent more magic into them, and they clung tightly to him with their vines.

  “Squeak, eat!”

  Jack-O reached a vine into his mouth and pulled out two toasts. The two smaller pumpkins split it between them and began devouring it.

  “Oh, he even saved food for his siblings. But wait, he can spit out food he’s already eaten for a while?” Aaron said in surprise.

  “Ghost-fire pumpkins have a small pocket space in their mouths for keeping stuff,” Acher explained.

  “Jack-O is such a good older brother!” Aaron praised. “He was so hungry, but he still saved something for them.”

  Seeing that the two smaller pumpkins hadn’t had enough and asked Jack-O for more, Luther stopped by another restaurant and bought them a bunch of food. Jack-O even managed to eat five more sandwiches!

  Afterward, the group continued wandering through the market. They entered a shop selling all sorts of magical potions, everything from healing elixirs and magic restoratives to anti-fungal brews and even hair-growth tonics.

  While the two boys were curiously examining a voice-changing potion, someone walked in.

  “Morning, Sebastian! Do you still have that eye-brightening medicine? The one I bought last time. Its effects were incredible, thanks to the Flow, my eyesight has almost completely recovered,” the man said.