The scene quietly shifted back to the castle.

Mize strolled out of the bedroom with the ease of someone who had just finished a nap and felt like causing mischief. 

She paused by the doorway, peeking left, then right, her ruby-like eyes gleaming as she made sure the coast was clear. 

Once satisfied, she slipped out, her steps light and unhurried as she wandered into the long corridors of the castle.

Her presence melted into the background like mist.

Unless someone had a rare, unique skill, or a mental strength that rivaled her own, they wouldn’t even register she was there. 

She moved undetected, invisible to ordinary senses.

A group of maids passed her, chatting quietly about schedules. 

A pair of guards followed behind, shoulders stiff and focused.

None of them noticed a thing.

Her lips curled into a grin. 

Boredom was dangerous in the hands of someone like her.

And so, she entertained herself.

First, a subtle nudge to one guard’s leg, he tripped, stumbled into the wall, and immediately looked around, utterly confused. 

Another’s pants slipped halfway down without warning. 

One maid’s tray mysteriously flipped. Clatters echoed, yelps followed. 

Chaos rippled through the corridors. 

Rumors began to circulate in hushed voices: the “naughty ghost”.

It was childish. It was delightful.

She slipped next into the kitchen.

Inside, the air was warm and thick with the smell of simmering stews and fresh bread.

Maids bustled between pots, chefs shouted brief commands, and the clang of utensils rang.

No one noticed the additional presence that had joined them.

Mize tiptoed across the tiles with a gleam of mischief in her eye. Her gaze landed on a tall figure with his back to her.

She grinned.

Like a cat on the hunt, she crept closer, arms outstretched, fingers twitching as she reached toward his waistband.

Then.

Thud!

“Ark—!”

A firm fist descended from above and tapped her head, not hard, but enough to make her yelp. 

Her body jumped from surprise.

Several chefs and maids turned sharply, startled by the sound. 

Their eyes widened when they saw who it was.

In unison, they dropped what they were doing and bowed with alarmed precision. “We greet the Lord!”

“We greet Her Highness!”

“Mize...” Liam stood over her, arms crossed, fingers drumming against his sleeves. 

His expression was flat, but his brow twitched. “What... are... you... doing.”

Mize straightened up with awkward speed, both hands on her head as she winced, then looked up with a face of pure, exaggerated innocence. 

Her eyes shimmered like polished gems. “W-walking around?”

“And you definitely weren’t trying to pull down my pants just now?”

“I totally wasn’t. You have no evidence.” She averted her gaze and took a small step backward.

Liam followed her step with one of his own, reaching forward to pinch her cheek between his fingers.

Her soft skin squished under his grip like mochi.

“Don’t mess around too much,” he said flatly.

 “You’re disrupting the entire castle’s operations. Especially the clerks. Don’t trip the clerks.”

“I didn’t!” she protested, but when he gave her a long, pointed look, she amended, “...A little.”

She shrugged like it was beyond her control.

 As if her hands had minds of their own. Take it or leave it.

Liam sighed through his nose, releasing her cheeks and shaking his head. “Naughty girl.”

He reached again, this time aiming to gently grasp her wrist.

But her lips curled with a teasing glint.

“I’ve never pranked you before,” she said slyly. “Wonder what your reaction would be?”

“You better not!"

His voice cut off.

The air shimmered.

In the blink of an eye, Liam found himself standing in the middle of an open grassy field.

A breeze rustled past him. There was no sign of Mize, no castle, no walls, nothing.

He blinked once. 

Slowly retracted his hand. 

His mouth twitched.

“She teleported me out of the territory, didn’t she...?”

His forehead creased. His jaw locked tight.

His eye twitched.

A deep inhale.

“Naughty brat!!!” he roared, fists clenched to the sky.

Back in the castle kitchen, Mize burst into giggles so intense she had to hug her stomach for support. 

Her laughter rang against the tiled walls like a bell.

The maids and chefs exchanged glances, what were they even supposed to do? 

When she turned to them, asking, “Wasn’t that funny?” they all nodded quickly, forced smiles plastered on their faces.

None of them dared to disappoint the adorable tyrant.

Moments later, Mize dashed out of the kitchen, still grinning. 

She moved fast, knowing Liam could return at any moment through his stationed shadow soldiers.

Her skill had forcefully expelled the shadows nearby, which meant Liam couldn’t teleport back directly to her, but that advantage wouldn’t last long.

She had to keep moving.

And so she did, haunting the castle like a mischievous spirit, unleashing a fresh wave of screams and confusion wherever she went.

But eventually, night fell.

The laughter faded.

Liam had returned long ago. He hadn’t come for her right away, he was waiting.

And Mize could tell.

She didn’t know why, but something in his stillness, the way he didn’t move even though he could, made her feel a vague sense of unease. 

Like a thread tugging at the edge of her awareness.

She tried brushing it off. “I’m overthinking,” she muttered, floating leisurely through the hallway. “What could he possibly do to me?”

She smirked, humming as she went.

But the corridor didn’t end.

In fact, the more she walked, the longer it seemed to stretch. 

Like the walls were breathing, subtly warping around her. 

Space twisted just slightly, not enough to be obvious, but enough for her sharp senses to catch.

Her gaze narrowed.

“Space formation?” she murmured, eyes gleaming.

She reached out with her divine sense, but the moment her consciousness touched the distorted space, it was swallowed.

Drowned. Like dropping a pebble into the ocean and watching it vanish instantly.

Her smile widened.

“Oh? A countermeasure for my divine mind?” she chuckled softly. “How clever.”

She could easily develop a counter-skill and force her way out, but where’s the fun in that?

“No rush,” she thought. “He clearly set this up for me. Let’s see what he’s planning.”

Up ahead, something caught her eye.

The corridor, both ends, was closing in. 

The walls folded in like jaws, slowly pressing together.

“So that’s your move?”

She tilted her head, grinning.

“Trying to trap me?”

And then she vanished, just like that. 

The space collapsed behind her, its target gone.

Elsewhere, Liam stood silently, hands clasped behind his back. Beside him stood Aizen, ever-smiling, eyes squinted as if amused.

“She escaped, my lord,” Aizen said respectfully. “It seems we underestimated her teleportation capabilities.”

“We did.” Liam nodded, eyes calm. “It wasn’t space-based teleportation. More like... conceptual displacement. She bypassed my formation entirely. Impressive.”

“So then,” Aizen said smoothly, “how shall we proceed with this little game?”

“As usual,” Liam replied. A portal opened beside him, swirling with energy. He stepped toward it, his voice level. 

“Her confidence in her skills has dulled her caution. She’s already in the trap. Play with her until she’s tired.”

He looked back over his shoulder, tone steady. “I’ll deliver the final blow.”

And with that, he disappeared into the portal.

Aizen stood still, hand over his chest in a crisp salute.

When the portal vanished, he exhaled.

“Alas,” he muttered to himself, shoulders slumping slightly. “How am I supposed to exhaust a living god...?”

He shook his head and offered a small, dry smile.

“Well, better do it. Or the lord really will skin me alive.”

Liam’s strategy wasn’t complicated. Simple, even, wear her out.

Sure, if he wanted, he could match her in a direct clash. 

But between the two of them, he had a hunch who’d run out of juice first. 

And it definitely wasn’t her.

Every now and then, he tried sneaking a peek, using a particular skill, one meant to gauge the depth of another's energy pool, especially if it was mentally-based like hers.

But when he focused on her…

It was like trying to look directly into the sun. Blinding, suffocating, endless. 

Frankly, he was amazed she hadn’t spontaneously combusted from all that sheer, raw energy coiled inside her like a dragon made of light.

Yeah, it unsettled him. But in a way, it made sense. 

The Path of a Divine was… weird.

Unknowable. Impossible to measure with mortal logic. 

And fighting that kind of energy head-on? That’d be suicide, or close enough.

So, Liam made a plan.

Something not meant to kill, but to contain. 

A backup, just in case things ever went wrong. 

He dubbed it “Operation: Pulling the Heaven.” A contingency if she were ever possessed, controlled, corrupted, however unlikely. 

Still, having a walking god with a temper and a fondness for chaos turn against you?

Not ideal. Especially if you happened to love her.

And today, conveniently, that plan came in handy. Not to neutralize a threat, but to teach a lesson. 

One naughty brat needed a little reminder: actions had consequences.

Somewhere else, Mize hovered in a strange stretch of nothingness.

She blinked slowly, eyes sweeping over the barren land stretching far past the horizon.

No trees. No wind. Not even a pebble out of place. 

Just dry earth and dull light, stretching forever. It felt sterile, almost unreal, like a dream that had forgotten to end.

She squinted and then spoke aloud, her tone sharp with suspicion. “Aizen? Is this your doing?”

Her voice echoed off the silence like a thrown stone hitting still water.

“If it is,” she went on, voice sweetening in that dangerous way only Mize could manage, “you better let me out. Or I swear, once I figure a way out myself, I’ll burn every atom of you until Liam has to put you back together, over and over again.”

The air trembled. Then a cough, awkward, hesitant, rippled from the space in front of her.

A slit opened in reality, like parting a curtain, and Aizen stepped through, looking like a man halfway regretting his life choices.

Mize crossed her arms, weight shifted onto one hip, expression stern. “Aizen. I’m warning you. Obey, or I swear I’ll throw you into a prison with nothing but muscular men. Day and night. No escape. Ever.”

“...”

Aizen’s face twitched. His mouth opened slightly, then shut again, and his brow lifted as if wondering whether he’d heard that right.

“Your Highness,” he managed, voice dry, “I must beg you not to threaten me like that. You know I don’t have a choice. If it’s not you punishing me, it’s the Lord. I’m the victim here.”

Mize’s eyes narrowed. “So you choose the prison with horny monkeys, then.”

She tilted her head, eyes glinting. “I’ll even turn you into a woman, just to make it worse.”

“...”

Aizen stood frozen, caught between horror and resignation. Eventually, he coughed again and looked away.

“Anyway,” he said, trying to regain some composure, “you know the rules. If you want to get out of this place, you’ll need to either break the barrier or defeat me.”

“Then I’ll break it,” Mize replied flatly.

She closed her eyes and sent her divine mind surging outward like a tidal wave.

And, nothing.

Her power hit the edge of the space and disappeared, swallowed up without a ripple.

 Worse still, when she tried to teleport… it failed. Somehow, this place canceled even that.

Her eyes slowly opened, gleaming with interest. “Oh? A formation that can block my teleportation too?”

She looked up at Aizen, curiosity morphing into a grin. “That’s impressive. Liam’s formation work has gotten better. He immediately came up with a countermeasure in seconds?"

Her gaze sharpened, scanning him closely. “And… I see. It’s not the space itself that’s formed, it’s you. You’re the medium. The formation is tied directly to your body.”

“No wonder I couldn’t sense it in the hallway or here. He made you the key.”

She smiled like a teacher pleased with her student. “Liam’s a genius.”

Aizen gave her a crisp salute. “Your Highness’s analysis is flawless. The Lord also added layers of insight on top of it. You won’t find it easy to break out of here. This game’s already halfway over.”

He tilted his head, giving her a faint smile. “So, how about admitting defeat?”

He didn’t even get to finish.

Mize vanished and reappeared in front of him, a breath's distance away, her eyes glowing with mischief and menace.

With a flick of her wrist, tiny orbs appeared at her fingertips, each one pulsing with a pressure that made the air crackle. 

They shimmered like miniature stars, trembling with raw destruction.

“Die,” she said lightly, flashing a sunny smile that made the word feel even more ominous.

The orbs blasted forward.

Aizen barely had time to widen his eyes before they exploded.

What followed wasn’t just silence.

It was deeper than silence. A stillness that swallowed all motion and all sound, collapsing the very concept of existence.

A massive dome of energy bloomed out from the point of impact. 

It slammed into the boundaries of the space, tearing at sky and earth alike. 

Cracks shimmered like lightning across the horizon as the force pushed everything to the brink.

She called it Heaven’s Judgement. A newer, tighter variation of an older skill, upgraded after the territory's last enhancement. 

Where once it might’ve razed mountains, now it erased them without leaving ash behind.

And Mize?

She just stood there, floating casually, as if she'd sneezed and annihilated a reality by accident.

After today, if the world had to give her a new title, there was only one that fit:

World-Destroyer.