Standing before the unscious Lo and Nahwu, Lankor fell to one knee, his breathing uneven and shallow. His hands—no, his arms—were disiing, turning to ash bit by bit, and a bitter sneer pyed across his lips.
"She brought out the big gun right away, huh…"
That spell. The very same spell that had nearly killed the first Demon Lord five turies ago. It wasn’t just a on—it was the on. A spell so moal it should have taken hours to cast, maybe even days. Yet she had unleashed it in under a minute.
Was she that well prepared? Did they know he reparing a surprise attack?
Perhaps they were, the moment they knew his existence, even before knowing his identity. It wasn’t just him. She’d grown stronger over the past five hundred years.
The woman beside him, trembling with wide, panicked eyes, ortrait of terror. Her gaze flickered between him and their unscious targets, worry and fusion carving lines into her face.
“Lance… are they going to kill us?” she asked, her voice trembling like a fragile thread about to snap.
“No, my love,” he said, f his voito something steady and soothing, though the ers of his mouth twitched with suppressed pain. He gestured weakly toward Nahwu. “e, let me help you. That girl’s body—look at her. A beautiful elf princess. Doesn’t it suit you?”
Evere’s panic softened into something dreamlike, her gaze settling on Nahwu. Her lips moved in a dazed whisper, “Beautiful…”
The pn, then, was clear. His identity had been blown wide open, his arms reduced to holy ash, and the inal Saint herself was in py. Yet, even pinned into a er, Lankor wasn’t without options. Lo and Nahwu would do nicely—one body for Evere, one for himself.
But then, there was still Burn.
Well, he still had time. After all, he had prepared a surprise for him, like he promised.
BLAAAASTT!!!
The cliff stood as an imposing giant in the northern reaches of Inkia, t at least 1000 feet, its jagged edges daring the heavens themselves. It was the kind of natural formation that inspired awe, fear, and the occasional poetitation about the power of nature.
To Burn, it was just an invenience.
He stood at its base, eyes narrowed, his hand twitg with the kind of restrained power that could reduce kingdoms to rubble. The faint traana—the princess’ and the prince’s mana, distind unmistakable—had led him here. Lo and Nahwu were somewhere within this stony monstrosity. He could feel it.
BLAAAAAAASTT!
Another flick of a finger.
The earth trembled once more. No dramatitations, no graures—just a casual motion, like brushing lint off his coat.
CRACK! BOOOOOOM!!!
The cliff disied. Massive sbs of stone crumbled into dust, falling away like a poorly stacked tower of cards. Entire ses colpsed inward, the rumble eg across the northern expanse as if the earth itself was gasping in disbelief.
Burn stepped forward, his metal heeled shoes g over the debris, his expression one of ild annoyance.
The dust settled, revealing what the cliff had been hiding—a gapirance carved into the roo, not araly. The jagged opening revealed the edge of a long, winding corridor, stretg into darkhat seemed to swallow light whole.
A secret base? Burn stepped closer. The faint mana signature grew stronger, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.
With that, he stepped into the shadowy passage, the very weight of his presence making the ground tremble in protest beh him. But then, his steps faltered. His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, even the suffog darkness seemed to retreat in fear.
He saw it.
No—him.
A face he’d know anywhere, even in the deepest pits of hell. A face burned into his memory with a vengeahat time could never dull.
“e to think of it… we could never find your head, huh, Aroche?” Burn’s voice was calm, almost versational, as though he weren’t addressing a memory cloaked in grief.
The realization hit him like a bde to the chest, though his expressiorayed none of it. He uood now. Not just his father. Not just the world’s leaders. Not just the fragile bance of this broken world.
"So, Demon Lord..." His voice dropped, the kind of tohat made the air grow heavier, thicker, suffog. Darkness crept across his face, wrath desded no mortal should have id eyes upon.
Burn’s grip on his sword tightehe dragon-horn bde groaning uhe sheer force of it. The on, a relic of unimaginable power, seemed almost fragile in his hands. “...Apparently, this is personal.”
***
Nemo shot toward Man, throwing healing magic at her with frantic preirr Yvain’s desperate efforts to keep Bir alive. The boy was overwhelmed—torween the sight of Bir and Maering on the edge of death and the chaos of his friends sprinting toward him from retive safety.
Panic swept through the se like a stuards shouted orders, aides scrambled, and Matthew and An g to the edge of posure as physis flooded in. But the maelstrom froze in pce when Man stood, a gaping hole still carved into her chest.
“Take the Princess inside. We’re in a war,” she anded, her toting through the hysteria like a bde.
War didn’t pause for injury, and Man didn’t have the luxury of dying—not yet. Not while Burn was still out there, and not until she knew what fresh hell he was dealing with on his side.
For a moment, no one moved, their eyes fixed on the impossible sight of the matriarch standing tall despite her body’s rebellion against all natural ws.
Then, as if snapped out of a trahe guards sprang into a. Orders were barked, couriers dispatched to the pace, Padparadscha Mansion, and Mossflower Mansion. This could no longer be tained. After Lo and Nahwu’s abdu, hiding this attack was ughably impossible.
“Mama…” Yvain’s voice cracked as he looked up at his master, still kneeling and ging to Bir, p every ounce of his magito her fragile body.
Man closed her eyes briefly, steadying herself, theended her holy magic toward Bir, patg her wounds with a precision only she could manage. “Keep going. Don’t stop until she wakes up. you hahat?”
“Yes,” Yvain said, his voice firm despite the tremor in his hands. “I .”
“Good.” Man’s tone softened only slightly before sharpening again as she turo the others. “Let’s go in. We’re eng a lockdown. The childreo be protected at all costs. No os them—not even their parents. Young Lord Padparadscha, Young Lord Mossflower, I trust you uand.”
Matthew and An froze, their frightened eyes flig from her face to the gaping hole in her chest. They didn’t fully grasp the scale of what had just unfolded, but her words carried the weight of and. Trembling, they nodded.
“Go on. Follow the adults,” Man instructed, her tone brooking nument.
But Nemo stayed rooted to her side, her wide, determined eyes locked on Man’s battered frame. Matthew and An reached to pull her along, but stopped short, remembering how the small girl had fought beside them.
Instead, they shifted their focus to Yvain, who hoisted Bir into his arms with care and began heading toward the mansion.
Man remained where she stood, her gaze sweeping over the retreating figures. railed her like a shadow, silent but resolute.
"Barrier," Man said, her voice steady despite the strain.
Nemo nodded without hesitation, her small frame began helping her weave the protective spell.
COUGH!
Man’s body lurched, blood spilling from her lips in a violent surge. Yet, from far in the distance, a pilr of light could be seen pierg the heavens—a t maion to the barrier she had raised.
“Do you think he’ll attack soon?” Man had asked Burn a ferior, their voices eg iillness of the corridor after that lengthy discussion with Yvain, Gawain and Finn.
“No,” Burn replied. “I think he’ll ime to recover after today.”
It was a reasonable assumption—after all, Burn’s arm had literally detonated on the demon lord, leaving a mark no one, not even the so-called ruler of the abyss, could easily shake off. Surely, even he would o retreat, to lick his wounds and regroup.
They had been wrong. And they both knew, because…
At that moment, suddenly, a wet, ragged cough wracked her body. Blood spttered onto her hand.
The loop had begun long ago. But she wouldn’t let it e.
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