In the end, Nael never landed her strike on Beatrice.

For the hundreds of people who had just poured out from the underground, what they saw was something they could never have expected:

The light blade of Empress Tia, piercing straight through Nael’s shoulder.

Thwack!

As Tia pulled the blade free, Nael staggered back, nearly falling.

“...Tia.”

Her eyes widened, staring at the woman who had stopped her.

“Why... why me?”

“You had to be stopped.”

Tia bit down on her lip.

“There are people here.”

“What does that matter?”

Nael’s voice dripped with disbelief.

“Beatrice is right there. For Clay’s sake, she must be destroyed immediately.”

“That’s only what you think.”

If Nael had been allowed to press on, Beatrice would have been forced into desperate defense—and in doing so, she might have scorched the survivors along with everything else.

“Were you planning to kill everyone here?”

“So now you’re protecting Beatrice?”

Nael gave a hollow laugh.

“She wouldn’t care about these people anyway.”

“Assumptions aren’t the same as certainty.”

Tia’s eyes locked hard on hers.

“Based on nothing but assumption, you would have endangered an entire city.”

“...Absurd.”

Nael’s expression froze into ice.

“The one endangering the entire world is right there. And you think a city matters?”

“Enough, Nael.”

Tia’s voice was steady.

“Clay doesn’t want to go back to the past.”

“Of course he doesn’t. But if we return him to where he belongs, his mind will change.”

“You’re deluding yourself.”

“Delusion?”

“If you force him, it will only cause him more pain.”

What had happened could never be undone. Even if broken bonds could somehow be patched together, the deep scars in Clay’s heart could never be erased. Not even by Clay himself.

“He knows. He’ll never forget that his comrades ultimately accepted his execution.”

That was the point of no return. And so, Tia had chosen to let go.

“Nael, give up.”

She would respect the Clay of the present.

“All we can do is let him live as he chooses.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Nael ground her teeth.

“Even if I’m late—I can’t give up.”

Unlike Tia, Nael still clung to the hope that Clay could return. She refused to abandon it.

“So get out of my way!”

This time, Nael charged at her. Tia’s eyes widened in alarm—

Clang!

Nael’s gauntlets clashed with something.

Tia’s gaze snapped aside. Beatrice’s claws had intercepted her.

“How pathetically reckless.”

Fury burned in Beatrice’s eyes.

“Were you trying to bring this entire city down?”

“Beatrice...!”

Nael pressed her gauntlets against Beatrice’s claws, straining.

“Don’t you dare lecture me, you damn demon!”

Her fists hammered wildly, one after another. Just as Beatrice had said—she looked every bit a mindless beast.

But Nael was not a beast. She was destruction incarnate.

As she advanced, her fists driving Beatrice back, everything in her path crumbled.

“Graaagh!”

She didn’t even notice the survivors spilling out of the underground. Rubble fell around them, forcing Tia to rush to their rescue.

“Th-Thank you, Saintess!”

“You saved us!”

They knelt in gratitude before her. It was surreal—citizens of Krata thanking the ruler of their enemy state.

Tia asked quickly,

“You were trapped underground?”

“Y-Yes! The royal soldiers dragged us down without warning! They locked us up below!”

They had been separated into different chambers. None of the survivors knew the fate of the others. But—

“They must be dead.”

The survivors trembled. They had seen others dragged away, screaming like sacrifices.

“They were using us as offerings. This place is cursed. Even King Lutan is gone. Something is terribly wrong.”

As they shook, Tia raised her arm. Light surrounded their bodies.

“Saintess, this is...?”

“If you know me as Saintess, then it’s only right I repay that faith.”

She was not Elhaen’s saintess—nor Krata’s ally—but she could not ignore them.

Flaaash!

Wounds closed under her light. The survivors gasped, staring at their healed bodies.

“Thank you, Saintess!”

“You’ve saved us!”

“We’ll serve you in return!”

And then, words that left her unsettled:

“This cursed land! We want to leave it behind!”

“Please, take us with you!”

“We don’t want to remain in this land of death!”

A land of death.

How had Holy Krata, once a sacred nation of the continent, become this hell?

‘Even with Beatrice right there...’

Even with one of the Demon King’s Four Generals battling before them, they didn’t care.

Their faces showed only one thing—desperation to escape.

“Very well.”

Tia nodded.

“I’ll take you.”

“R-Really?”

“Waaah!”

“But—”

She turned toward Beatrice and Nael’s battle.

“Not now.”

This was why she had stayed—to keep the situation contained.

“Hide somewhere safe. I’ll protect you until it’s over.”

Their faces twisted with unease, but she wouldn’t relent.

“Hurry.”

Finally, they pointed toward the nearby mountains. Tia led them there swiftly.

Only once she had delivered them to safety did she turn back toward the battlefield, where Beatrice and Nael clashed.

“Saintess!”

The people’s voices followed after her.

“Please, return safely!”

“We’ll pray for you!”

Useless prayers.

But Tia did not tell them their faith was in vain.

“Then...”

And with that, she turned back toward the battlefield.

♧

“Ugh...”

How much time had passed?

Endless darkness. Yuru stood within it.

‘What is this?’

Her face tightened in puzzlement. She couldn’t form words properly. She looked around—but there was nothing.

‘Did I distort too much?’

To chase Neville, she had needed to distort space. But it wasn’t a spell she had much practice with. Ideally, she should have stabilized it first.

Even so, Yuru didn’t think her own mistake was the only reason she was trapped here.

‘Could it have been a lure?’

If so, Neville was no easy opponent.

She gathered her senses, focusing her mind.

‘Or maybe...’

This place might not have been created as a trap for her. A quick test revealed the darkness itself was absorbing light.

Could it have been made to prevent anyone—Clay, or anyone else—from using divine power within it?

‘But Clay would never use Elhaen’s holy power.’

No, perhaps it was meant for another god’s power—if someone ever tried to wield it.

Yuru tilted her head.

‘Strange place, regardless.’

Neville was nowhere to be seen. Which only meant he was hiding here somewhere.

“Neville.”

Her voice rang out, sharp, meant for his ears.

“Exactly how far does your authority reach? Whatever it is, if you’re here...”

Her blue eyes glimmered with light.

“I’ll find you.”

She spread out a detection spell, scanning the area. Nothing unusual responded. But she didn’t stop.

Rumble!

Lightning exploded across her staff as she hurled countless bolts into the void.

“First I’ll check if this is a fully distorted space.”

Neville wasn’t a mage. If he was using authority to bend what wasn’t his own strength, there would be weak points only a true mage could see.

After all, this wasn’t a true domain he had woven by hand—it was more like a phenomenon forced into being through a medium.

Which meant he likely hadn’t distorted everything.

“There.”

Yuru smiled.

Her foot slammed against the ground. She shot forward.

Boom!

Her staff struck something—

“Neville.”

And there he was. As their clash forced his form into view, she saw him behind a thin shield of force, smirking back at her.

“Well, you found me.”

“Did you really think you could run from me?”

Yuru chuckled.

“You’re not going anywhere. Not until you give me what I want.”

“And what is it you want?”

Neville’s tone was cool. Yuru answered as though it were obvious.

“Bring me Elhaen.”

The one behind it all.

Lutan had been nothing but a puppet. Neville had been the true agent. But knowing that didn’t change the goal.

Unless Elhaen was destroyed, none of this would end.

“My brother’s patience is running thin.”

“Absurd.” Neville met her gaze squarely, “Clay cannot be separated from Elhaen.”

“He said he doesn’t want it.” Yuru’s eyes narrowed, “So summon it. I’ll erase it.”

At that, Neville’s lips curved into a smile.

“Such confidence—truly befitting the Origin. But unfortunately, that very gift will be your undoing.”

“Undoing?”

“You don’t understand what you’re trying to face.”

Elhaen.

The god who had already subdued this world completely, the highest of the high.

“As Elhaen decreed, this story will end as it must.”

“Shut up.”

Yuru pressed her staff harder against his shield, forcing it to crackle.

“So this is all Elhaen’s power amounts to?”

Crackle!

At her staff’s tip, a whirlpool of magic formed, sparking violently.

“I can crush you here with just a little effort.”

Her voice was sharp, dangerous.

“So summon Elhaen. Now.”

“Foolish.”

Neville’s smile vanished.

“I had been showing you mercy.”

Golden light flooded his eyes.

“Then see for yourself—”

The air trembled.

“—a fragment of Elhaen.”

(End of Chapter)