My Magical System

"Relax." The elder's voice resounded. Calm—without a trace of panic. "Do you think the Queen has been defeated? Fools. If it were that easy to destroy, I wouldn't have wasted decades resurrecting it."

Just as his words echoed across the chamber, a sharp, grinding grrrrk came from the crystal orb. The sound was unnatural—like bone scraping against metal. All eyes snapped to the orb.

Inside it, the storm-tossed sky blurred—then refocused.

The Killer Queen Bee was still moving.

Barely.

Its wings were tattered. Its exoskeleton was cracked and scorched from the explosion. The hole in its chest glowed faintly, but its heart—the core that pulsed with monstrous energy—remained intact.

It hissed, fangs bared and vibrating violently.

Then, they saw it.

A viscous, black substance oozed from the cracks in its carapace, like blood mixed with tar. It spilled out, then spread rapidly—covering its body in a slick, pulsing sheen. The Queen's body twitched, and the strange substance began to move on its own, slithering across her like armor, encasing every wound.

"What… what is that?!" one cultist gasped, stepping back.

"The… dark nectar?" whispered another in awe.

The elder smiled. Not kindly.

"That," he said, gesturing to the orb, "is Phase Two. Hahaha! It's starting!"

They watched as the Queen's trembling limbs straightened. Her wings, shredded before, began to harden—regenerating with an oily shimmer. Jagged, black crystalline veins formed along her thorax and stinger. Her shriek this time wasn't of pain—

—it was a rebirth.

"She's adapting," the robed woman said with a smirk. "Their attack forced her to evolve."

"Absolutely." The elder nodded his head.

The Queen's form now looked twisted, almost corrupted. Her once-black and red armor was now drenched in shadowy plating, pulsating with sickly purple veins of dark energy. Her eyes no longer glowed red—they burned like twin voids.

"Behold…" the elder said slowly. "The Corrupted Queen."

"But… is she still under our control?" one voice asked, hesitant.

The elder did not answer right away. He gulped suspiciously.

Inside the orb, the Queen turned her gaze sharply—not toward Eman this time, but upward. Toward something unseen.

Her aura exploded.

Storm clouds recoiled. The rain seemed to bend around her body, warping unnaturally. Lightning flared, but no longer touched her. She was beyond nature now.

"Let us pray," the elder finally said, voice distant, "that she remembers her hatred… and not her hunger."

The buzzing deepened—no longer just a sound, but a vibration in the air that made bones rattle and energy falter.

Eman gritted his teeth as a ripple of cold dread washed over him. The victory he thought he'd earned had dissolved in seconds. What hovered before him now… was no longer the same creature he'd faced.

"She's mutated," he muttered. "This isn't the same Queen Bee."

Little Sky trembled slightly. "Milord… I-I can't feel her mind anymore. It's like she's become… hollow."

Sphin let out a thunderous roar, arching her neck toward the sky. Her emerald barrier surged, wrapping tighter around the trio as lightning curled unnaturally toward them—attracted by the Queen's twisted aura.

Suddenly, a flash of light burst to Eman's right.

A small glowing orb—golden and fluttering—flew toward them, then opened into a full hologram. It was an artifact.

Rossbert.

The projection was unstable due to the storm, but Eman could still make out the sweat on his brow and the tension in his voice.

"Eman! Are you still in the air?! That explosion—what the hell happened?!"

"I hit her with everything I had," Eman replied grimly. "It worked. But not completely."

Rossbert paused.

"…She's still alive?"

"Worse. She's evolved."

Back on the ground, Rossbert cursed under his breath.

Behind him, soldiers and townsfolk—injured but alive—stared up at the flickering battle in the sky. Murmurs of hope had already begun to rise… only to be drowned out by a fresh wave of despair as the Queen shrieked again, her silhouette glowing with unnatural light.

"She's regenerating," Eman added. "Covered in some kind of cursed nectar."

Rossbert's eyes narrowed. "Damn those bastards… what kind of creature they awakened?"

Eman stayed silent. His focus was on the Queen.

Suddenly.

A flash of violet sparked in the sky above, and the Queen moved again—faster than before. Her new form shimmered, not just resisting the storm, but bending it to her will. A ring of black wind encircled her like a barrier, howling louder with each beat of her wings.

"She's preparing a strike!" Little Sky cried.

"Then I'll meet it."

Eman tightened his grip on Sphin. Despite the fatigue gnawing at him, he sat taller.

"I'll push her back again. No matter how many times she evolves… I'll find a way to bring her down."

Rossbert held his breath for a moment longer, then gave a grim nod.

"We'll buy you time on the ground. Don't let her reach the town."

"I won't."

The projection blinked out.

Sphin flared her wings wide, emerald and lightning magic wrapping around them. Beneath them, the clouds swirled violently. The Corrupted Queen Bee began to descend—faster, more deliberate. Her stinger now resembled a barbed spear of black crystal, glowing with the promise of annihilation.

She wasn't angry.

She wasn't desperate.

She was hunting.

And her prey was them.

"Ready, Sphin."

The beast growled.

"Sky."

"Yes, Milord."

Eman opened his system again. "We're going to need another miracle."

"I believed in you, Milord."

"No, no, I mean I will need your help."

"Alright!"

The air was heavier now.

Not just because of the storm, but because of the presence that loomed above them—the twisted monster that refused to die.

The Corrupted Queen Bee had become something else entirely. Gone was her brittle exoskeleton. What floated in the sky now was a monster reborn in darkness—its once-regal form now dripping with corruption, wrapped in a grotesque shell of blackened slime and pulsing veins of void-like energy.

[System Warning: Enemy threat level has increased — New classification: EXTINCTION-RANK ENTITY.]

The words pulsed in red across Eman's interface.

He was surprised by it. Even the system—normally cold and clinical—seemed shaken.