Nyxlongue refused to yield. Despite the disintegration of her attacks, despite the crushing evidence of Bakuzan's superiority, she charged again toward the planet, her aura tearing the void like a comet of despair.
She halted abruptly in midair, right in front of him.
— You… who do you think you are?!
Her eyes burned, half-madness, half-fear. She crossed her arms, and the entire cosmos groaned. Dull rumbles traversed space-time, layers of reality cracking like glass.
colossal forms emerged from the white abyss of nothingness.
They were dragons — but not those of the living world.
Four titans of at least eighteen kilometers in length, their bodies covered in shadow scales and their faces erased, devoid of identity. Behind them stretched an even larger creature, a hundred-kilometer dragon, a moving mountain of cosmic darkness.
When they roared, the entire planet vibrated.
Their maws, gaping, were only white light: total void, a living oblivion.
Bakuzan slowly opened his eyes, and two golden suns lit up in his pupils.
The eyes of Isissis.
— …The Dragons of the End of Myths, he murmured.
He knew what this meant: even the Heirs could summon only one at a time.
And Nyxlongue… had five.
To be swallowed by one of them was to be consumed by the illusion of the white void — a hell where even consciousness has no place to stand.
The beasts advanced.
The smallest, a twelve-kilometer colossus, simply laid a hand on the ground: forests collapsed, mountains shattered, the planet cracked like a shell.
— Enough.
Bakuzan's voice did not boom; it resonated as a truth.
His eyes of Isissis shone with supernatural intensity.
The dragons halted abruptly, frozen in a complex geometric structure, as if the universe redrew them in diagrams.
Then, slowly, methodically, they disassembled.
Lines, angles, shapes… then dust.
And finally, nothing.
Space regained its silence.
Nyxlongue, trembling, cried:
— No!… No, this is a joke!!!
But Bakuzan had already appeared before her, so close that the flap of his wings made her breath tremble.
— Do you have more tricks to play? he asked in a calm, almost paternal voice.
She recoiled, her aura faltering. Her cosmic wings beat again, but her hands trembled.
She had other attacks, yes — but what good would they do?
This being… did not nullify her attacks. He rendered their existence impossible.
She clenched her fists, teary eyes, and cried, almost as a child:
— Who are you?! How can you be so strong?! This makes no sense!!!
Bakuzan slowly closed his eyes.
— To be honest… it wouldn't change anything, even if I told you how.
His gaze reopened — an endless golden ocean.
— But one thing is certain: you do not match up. Not yet.
The wind fell silent.
Nyxlongue lowered her head. For the first time, she felt not fear… but a kind of vertigo.
The one you feel when facing the incomprehensible.
Nyxlongue remained suspended in the void, her wings beating slowly, as if exhausted by rage. Then, with a tired breath, she lowered her arms along her body and dropped her head.
Her voice, this time, was no longer that of a warrior.
— …It hurts to admit it, she murmured, but when I look at you… I feel as if I'm facing a wall. A wall that cannot be passed. Not even by me.
She lifted her head. Her eyes, still burning with pride, trembled.
— For someone like me, combat is not a pastime… it is my passion, my reason to exist. And victory… is what I demand from the world above all. So tell me, Black Grief... do you have any idea what it feels like to lose in what you love to do most?
Bakuzan remained still, his golden aura serene as a sea of stars.
— You could have kept that pride, he said calmly… if you hadn't challenged me yourself.
Nyxlongue fixed him long and hard. Her gaze, once flamboyant, grew melancholy. She understood at last — not only defeat, but the distance between them: he was a law, she, a fire.
And, in a nearly fragile murmur, she dared to ask:
— Tell me, Ebon Woe… you weren't giving your all, were you? Not in this fight?
Bakuzan did not answer. He simply looked at her.
That silence was enough for him. She sighed, a shadow of humiliation in her breath.
— I surrender. I have… lost.
She closed her eyes, then added in a deeper voice:
— I will tell you everything I know about Lilith.
Bakuzan gave a discreet, barely perceptible smile.
— Very well. But… I also have something to ask you.
— What now? she snapped, on the defensive.
He lowered his eyes toward the ground. Sylongue was still there, standing, watching the sky with concern.
— I would like you to take the time to talk to her again.
— What?! No, absolutely not! You said you only wanted answers about Lilith! Your second request is rejected in advance!
Bakuzan looked at her again, with a gentleness that disarmed more surely than any attack.
— Nyxlongue… it's clear you're suffering. Not because of the fight. Not because of me. But because of her.
She averted her gaze, arms crossed, sulking.
— Tsk… you're talking nonsense.
— I think on the contrary that it's very clear, said Bakuzan.
What hurts you is not only that she drifted away. It's that she now shares the love she once bore for you with Oyuo.
Silence fell like a stone into a lake.
Nyxlongue's eyes lost their fierce gleam. Her expression grew sadder, more human, almost fragile.
Bakuzan continued, his voice lower, almost paternal:
— You know… she is deeply touched by what you have become. Even before I came here, she made me promise not to hurt you, no matter what you do.
Because she still loves you.
And because she wants to protect you, even if you hate her.
Nyxlongue opened wide eyes. She felt something crack in her heart — an ancient warmth, repressed, rising despite herself.
Bakuzan finished:
— Her love for you goes beyond what you can imagine. She told me she would almost regret having gotten together with Oyuo… if that could erase your pain.
The wind fell silent.
Nyxlongue remained motionless, her wings folded, her throat tight.
Her heart, that forge of flames and anger, had turned to ashes.
Bakuzan had stepped back a few paces, leaving Sylongue and Nyxlongue alone face to face.
He did not see a logical reason for these two dragonesses to reconcile — and yet, he wished it.
The old bond between them felt missing, like an echo of a past he had never known.
Sylongue, shorter in stature but with an aura of ancient wisdom, watched Nyxlongue with a gentleness mixed with weariness.
Nyxlongue, livelier, younger in appearance, carried in her eyes a contained fury. She tried to appear indifferent, even arrogant, but that façade cracked under the weight of pain.
Despite her rancor, every part of her cried out the hurt of a broken love.
Sylongue knew it.
She had always understood that Nyxlongue's hatred was only an armor of sorrow.
And even if the latter had rejected her, she had never stopped loving her — nor wanting to protect her.
For Sylongue, Nyxlongue remained her little sister. No matter her faults, she remained the one to be sheltered, even before a monster like Black Grief, even if it meant stepping in front of Bakuzan himself.
Not far away, Bakuzan leaned against a stone, near a water point whose surface mirrored the pale sky.
He let out a long sigh.
In Nyxlongue's features, he found Salomé, his little sister.
Perhaps that was, at bottom, the reason he wanted to help so much.
A wavering shadow rose from the ground.
Nihlorgue, in his dragon form — a shadow-serpent of nothingness — glided silently toward him.
Nihlorgue: Master… I wonder what you are thinking about, at the moment.
Bakuzan remained silent for a moment, gaze lost toward the starry skies.
Bakuzan: Nothing important.
I'm thinking, that's all.
He brushed absentmindedly the necklace around his neck.
Then, fixing his gaze on Nihlorgue, he added in a nearly neutral tone:
Bakuzan: You'll need me to have you evolve again.
Nyxlongue is clearly more powerful than you.
Nihlorgue lowered his head, ashamed, his shadowy silhouette quivering slightly.
Bakuzan slowly straightened. His eyes burned with an inner glow.
Bakuzan: Isissis's abilities are… fabulous.
The more I explore, the more I realize that her strength exceeds all measure.
I feel as if I have become… too strong.
Too strong for anyone in the Second Zone.
The shadow-serpent hesitated a moment, then dared to ask the question that haunted him for so long:
Nihlorgue: Master… may I ask you a question?
Bakuzan: I'm listening.
Nihlorgue: About the girl… Yuhida.
You bound her to me, to make her my apostle.
Why not bind her directly to you?
She seems, after all… to be dear to you.
Bakuzan kept silent.
His gaze darkened.
Then he replied in a low, almost melancholic voice:
Bakuzan: Precisely.
If I bound her to you, it's to protect her.
Nihlorgue: …I don't understand.
Bakuzan: With the quest I undertook, I risk facing beings capable of destroying me to the essence — Lilith, Azazel, or worse.
If that were to happen… everything linked to me by essence would be annihilated with me.
Would vanish without return.
The serpent's eyes widened at this revelation. He finally understood.
Nihlorgue: Oh… I see.
So, by binding her to me… you've put her to safety.
Bakuzan: Exactly.
For if I fall, you can continue to exist.
Our essences share no bond.
And as long as it remains so… she will survive.
A heavy silence settled.
The wind stirred the surface of the water point.
In the distance, the roar of a dragon echoed in the dark skies.
Bakuzan closed his eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by the awareness of his own power — and the price it demanded.