Adonis POV — The Pride of Asura
I couldn't believe my eyes.
That grotesque filth—the Swarm Tyrant—revived itself. Not after a minute, not after a breath, but within seconds. I watched as its black, patchworked flesh stitched itself together, its dozens of insectoid eyes glowing an unnatural crimson. The ground still steamed from the impact Levi had struck it with.
Yet there it stood again, whole.
Levi—foolish, brilliant, recklessly was still in the center of the crater, panting with his sword barely upright. That Sword Saint of Godspeed… had pushed beyond his limit. I could see it—his stance wavered, legs trembling, blood spilling from his mouth as he tried to lift his blade once more.
The grotesque hissed, gurgling out through its mutated throat:
"Die, human."
Its voice was broken, crawling and jagged—like dozens of teeth gnashing in rhythm. It blitzed forward, its massive centipede-like form slithering toward him.
I moved.
A flash of gold and silver streaked across the battlefield—my cloak fluttering as my boots cracked the earth beneath.
"Levi."
I caught him just before the Tyrant's fangs pierced the air he once stood in. Flames burned in my wake as I launched us both out of harm's way, skidding through dirt and ash.
I laid Levi against a tree, his chest barely rising. His eyes were shut.
"Hold on. That's an order."
My voice was calm, precise—commander's tone. I called for a healer immediately through the party crystal. "Unit Delta—medic. Get to the northern ridge. Levi is down."
Then I stood. Faced it.
The Swarm Tyrant reared its head, a skeletal clicking echoing from within its throat. Its body pulsed with mutated veins, dripping green acid onto the ground.
"Who… are you?" it spat, as if the words were foreign.
I answered by drawing my sword.
The runes on the hilt flickered with golden light as my mana surged. Wind stirred around me, leaves lifting from the ground, spiraling like a divine cyclone around my form.
"Knights of Asura," I commanded through my soul-synced channel, "protect Rinascita. This one is mine."
My men didn't hesitate. They knew better.
The Tyrant screamed louder, wings stretching wide.
"WHO. ARE. YOU!?"
I smirked.
"A talking disaster… This might actually be interesting."
My sword came down—not to strike, but to unleash.
The sky split.
From the heavens, twelve golden spears descended like wrath itself—Celestial Armament: Dawnfall Lances. They rained upon the Tyrant with majestic fury, each one glowing with divine inscription, sharp enough to pierce dragonhide.
The ground trembled with each impact—booms like thunder, earth exploding skyward.
But it didn't fall.
The Tyrant screamed and charged. I met it halfway.
My blade ignited with Solar Elemental Flame—the rare celestial fire that did not burn with heat, but with judgment. I carved a cross-shaped arc through the air, and the explosion behind it shook the valley.
He didn't die.
He bled. I saw that much. But his carapace rippled… shimmered. A second later, the cracks I made sealed.
Adaptation.
It had already adjusted to Levi's speed strikes, and now it was responding to me.
"So it nullifies damage that threatens its core." My voice was quiet, focused, studying. I circled him. "A grotesque that adapts in real-time… no—this isn't a monster. It's a calamity."
I launched forward again, this time unleashing a Celestial Sigil: Chains of the Upper Realm. Golden chains sprouted from my sword's edge, binding the grotesque in radiant binds that scorched its limbs.
It screeched—this time in agony.
Lightning surged from my left hand, pure elemental wrath coursing through my arm as I added a dual incantation. Tempest Execution—a vertical slash of raw thunder, meant to tear through hydra-scale.
I carved through the Tyrant's left side. Acid and ichor exploded.
And then… I saw it.
Mid-recovery, it smiled—as if recognizing a new strategy.
Its head twitched—then launched five poisonous fangs from its mouth, not at me… but toward the rear lines.
"Tch."
Dirty.
Five green streaks spiraled toward a group of guild fighters. I recognized their banner—Celestial Apex, barely ranked.
I dropped my stance and moved. Not because I had to. But because I must.
"A knight does not let the innocent die behind him."
I whispered the verse of a forgotten Celestial God—a command from the heavens.
Wings burst from my back, made of pure starlight.
Time slowed.
In a flash of divine light, I caught all five fangs midair—a shield of aurora-ward shattering in my grasp. The impact forced me back twenty paces, boots carving trenches into the soil.
The young guild members gawked, saved. Alive.
I didn't look at them.
I turned back to the Tyrant, whose rage grew wild with sound.
"You play dirty to survive."
I flicked the broken fang from my hand. Blood dripped down my glove.
"Good. Then I won't hold back anymore."
The sky trembled once more.
The grotesque's grin twisted as it lunged again—legs clicking, wings buzzing in a distorted frequency that made the trees tremble. But I wasn't there anymore.
I was above it.
The wings of starlight behind me flared, and I spun midair—my sword glowing white-gold, tracing a celestial rune mid-swing.
"Ardent Circle: Pride's Eclipse."
A perfect arc of holy flame swept down like a blade forged from divinity itself. It collided with the Swarm Tyrant and drove it into the earth like a fallen star.
The explosion wasn't fire or sound—it was divine silence. A silence that struck the heart like truth.
Dust and shimmering celestial embers hung in the air. For a moment, I stood above it—cloak fluttering, blade burning, golden eyes narrowed.
"You changed your body to protect your core, huh?" I raised my palm to the sky.
"But can you outgrow a God?"
Above me, the heavens trembled.
I felt the heat in my veins—Pride.
It was there, watching me. The God I'd served since I took the Oath of Radiant Steel.
He did not whisper. He did not guide with kindness.
He demanded.
I thrust my sword into the sky.
"Lend me your fury."
Lightning split the clouds. A sigil carved itself into the air—a lion's eye etched in gold, its gaze merciless.
From the heavens, a beam of divine pride fell.
I caught it.
Power surged through my frame—my aura flared into a tempest. My armor glowed with archaic runes, and my blade extended—etched with celestial gold and pulsating with godly resonance.
I pointed it at the rising monster.
"Swarm Tyrant…" I said coldly. "Kneel."
And I struck.
The ground tore asunder as I came down like a judgment made flesh, my sword amplified by divine will. The Tyrant shrieked—a cry that echoed across the valley.
I saw its shell rupture. Its chest cracked open—and I saw the core.
But just before the final blow could land—a scream.
"SIR ADONIS!"
One of the knights from the eastern flank. His voice—raw with panic.
"THE GROTESQUES—THEY'RE CHANGING! THEY'RE STARTING TO—TO RESIST OUR BLADES!"
Time froze.
What?
I turned my head. Across the fields, dozens of grotesques had begun swarming the city's ridge. Their movements—more coordinated. Their limbs—reinforced. I saw one take a knight's full strike and keep moving. Another caught a fireball and absorbed it.
And then it hit me.
I looked back at the Swarm Tyrant's cracked chest—its core pulsing in tandem with the others… not beating for itself… but for all.
"They're linked," I whispered.
"This… this thing is their source. Their core.. their hive. If it adapts…"
I turned my gaze across the battlefield—hundreds of grotesques evolving second by second. Wings mutating. Eyes growing. Resistance building.
"They all evolve."
I stepped back. My blade wavered for the first time.
This wasn't just a beast. This was the future of a species.
A future shaped to devour us all.
I looked at the city—Rinascita's protective wards flickering.
My knights…
The guild members, some barely out of apprenticeship…
I couldn't win.
A surge of mana behind me. I turned—A young girl screamed as seventeen grotesques descended upon her, blades and jaws bared.
I moved faster than my pride.
"RADIANT VEIL: RING OF FINAL SALVATION."
I swung my sword in a perfect circle—a shockwave of celestial force exploded outward.
Seventeen grotesques slashed through, each one impaled by threads of divine magic—a lattice of burning lines that held them midair, frozen in exorcism.
They withered into dust.
But not before I felt it.
Even these lesser grotesques… were starting to resist. My blade didn't cut clean—it strained. It cracked one's shell and had to burn the rest away.
I stood in the center of the wreckage—breathing, heavy.
"They are all getting stronger…" I whispered.
The pride in my chest didn't vanish. But it shifted.
For the first time in years, I lowered my sword.
I stared up at the sky.
"I can't save everyone… while fighting a calamity."
I turned away from the Tyrant—who was already beginning to regenerate.
Sylvia's POV — The Southern Wall
Somehow, they were growing.
These grotesques... they weren't like the last ones we fought. Zain and I had taken charge of the southern flank, and even with all our preparation, all our spells, and all the strategy we hammered into our members… it was slowly becoming too much.
I stood in a field of corpses. Human. Grotesque. Both.
The sky above us was clouded in smoke and ash, the air thick with the scent of rot and scorched earth. I felt the familiar weight of magic building behind my ribs. I refused to fall here.
Zain's voice echoed behind me—shouting commands, his blade slicing through another grotesque as flames roared from its edge. He never lost his composure. I admired that about him. It was comforting, in its own way.
But just as I spun to aid him, I caught the glimpse of a grotesque—jagged limbs and bulbous eyes—lunging right for me. Too close.
Too fast.
I froze.
And then—shink.
A dagger flew past me, slicing the grotesque's head clean in half. Its body hit the ground with a wet thud. The throw had been impossibly clean—practiced.
"Are you okay, miss?" came a voice behind me.
I turned—and stopped breathing for a second.
Those eyes. Blue like winter rivers. That hair—unruly but familiar. Like someone I once knew. No… someone I couldn't forget.
Before I could speak—
"Arius!" I heard Sophia's voice from behind him. "Where did you go?"
Arius.
So that was his name?
He turned briefly, calling to her, "Sophia, come here—we need more people defending this side."
My thoughts were spinning. My body wanted to fight, but my heart had latched onto something else entirely.
"Why do you look so similar to him?" I asked, not even realizing the words had left my mouth.
He looked at me then. And smiled—not mockingly. Just soft. Familiar.
"We can talk once it's all over," he said. "For now, you have people to protect."
My fingers tightened around my wrist.
He was right.
There were too many people depending on me to lose focus now. I turned back toward the battlefield, casting my gaze over the field of fighters and guild members we were trying to hold together.
One of them—a young woman I knew from the eastern patrol—rushed up to me.
"Sylvia!" she called, panting. "The grotesques—they're resisting lightning magic now!"
"Resisting?" I asked, shocked.
"Yeah. My spells—they're not even stunning them anymore!"
Before I could respond, Arius spoke from just behind me, calmly, like he already knew. "Levi used lightning magic against the Swarm Tyrant. If that creature's their source, it's possible the rest are adapting to counter what nearly killed it."
I turned to question him—but he was already walking away, heading toward a man screaming for help across the field.
How did he know that?
No time to think.
More grotesques poured from the ridge. My team was being pushed back. I heard Zain yell from the far side, sparks and fire crackling around him. I ran to meet him—dodging a grotesque that slammed into a tree beside me.
"Zain!" I shouted, meeting him as his flaming blade cleaved through two of the monsters.
He didn't look tired. He looked angry.
"Where's our backup?" he growled, his second blade bursting into flame. "They said the west was secure!"
"I don't think it is anymore," I answered, releasing a wave of Celestial Chains—golden bindings that wrapped around the grotesque charging me, holding it in place midair just long enough for Zain to slice through it.
He grunted. "We're getting boxed in."
"I know. They're changing, somehow. A member told me—they're resisting lightning magic now."
"What?! That's what I've been using as a finisher!"
"Levi used it on the Tyrant," I added, panting between spells. "Arius said that. Maybe the connection runs deeper than we thought."
Zain glanced sideways at me. "Arius?"
"I… I'll explain later."
Another grotesque lunged. Zain stepped forward, blades twirling, and let out a blast of heat that incinerated its path. The air shimmered from the force of it.
"Then we change how we fight," he said firmly. "You cover the sky. I'll take the ground."
I nodded, raising my hand as the celestial light formed above me.
"Sanctified Wrath: Starlight Comet."
The sky lit up as a spear of pure heavenly energy slammed into the ground, crushing a grotesque swarm trying to flank us.
But even as I fought… my heart lingered on that name.
Arius.
Why did it feel like he wasn't a stranger at all?
Sophia's POV — Broken Choices and Celestial Light
This is so wrong.
This is so, so wrong.
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
I jumped over a grotesque's shredded corpse—ugh, ew, ew—and then a human one. My foot actually slipped for a second on blood, and I almost face-planted into the mud. Would've been funny if it didn't hurt so much inside.
Gods, why does this feel like the Asura crisis all over again? The screaming, the blood, the panic. The people running with no clue where safety even is.
And yet… I'm still the same.
Still useless.
Still the girl standing in the middle of a nightmare with trembling hands and magic that isn't enough.
"Why… again…?" I whispered, biting my lip, almost tasting tears in the back of my throat.
Then I saw him.
And my heart stopped.
No way.
Two grotesques had cornered someone, and I recognized that stupid stubborn hair and that ridiculous stance like he was always trying to act tougher than he actually was.
Isaac.
And the grotesques were already in mid-lunge.
I hesitated.
Because my brain wasn't stupid. It remembered everything.
It remembered Arius stepping in and yelling at Isaac days ago, calling him a monster for what he did to his wife—his pregnant wife. The bruises. And how Isaac ran like a coward when he was confronted.
And now he was here… probably trying to redeem himself. Or maybe not. Maybe he was just trying to survive like the rest of us.
Should I save him?
No… right?
He deserved it. Right?
But then the grotesques inched closer, and something inside me twisted and snapped like a cracked bone.
And I remembered her voice.
"Sophia, don't care what others think is right. Do what you believe is right."
My throat clenched.
I raised my hand—my fingers trembling—and channeled every bit of celestial light I could pull from the broken sky.
"Starfall Mercy."
A golden beam crashed down in front of the grotesques, slamming into them with righteous force. They screeched as their bodies exploded into dust and light.
But I was too late.
Isaac had already been hit—his shoulder gored, a black line of poison crawling up his skin. His body hit the ground hard, face twisting in pain.
I knelt beside him.
"Isaac! Are you okay?" I asked, voice breaking.
My hands pressed to his wound, warmth gathering in my palms.
He coughed—gross, messy, a little dramatic honestly. But it was real.
"It's… nothing," he forced out. "I can still fight."
I looked at him and… no.
No, he can't.
I could see it—the poison. It was spreading too fast. We didn't have a cure, and I knew it.
"Shut up," I muttered, voice softer than I expected. "You're coughing blood, dummy…"
I focused, channeling Celestial Healing Light, golden threads forming under his skin, trying to purify the toxin.
Isaac blinked up at me, dazed.
"…Why are you helping me?" he whispered. "Someone like me?"
I smiled—tired, a little bitter, a little sad.
"We all have our reasons, Isaac."
"I don't know what made you become the way you are. I'm not saying it was okay… but…" My voice cracked.
I pressed my palms harder against his wound, sweat running down my back from the effort.
"…in the past, I was just as weak as you are now. And he..."
"He?"
Don't say it. Don't.
No.
Now wasn't the time to remember him.
That day. That hand reaching out. That warm smile when I was at my lowest.
No.
I bit my lip and said nothing, instead pouring more magic into Isaac's wound—but it wasn't working. The threads dissolved. The poison refused to leave.
My magic—my best—wasn't enough.
Isaac's breathing slowed.
"No… no, no no—don't you dare die now," I whispered. "I saved you, so you don't get to just… just die, idiot!"
And then—Footsteps.
Isaac blinked past me, his eyes widening, voice suddenly hollow.
"…You…"
I turned around. And my heart felt like it curled in on itself.
Arius.
His silence wasn't cold.
It was heavy.
"…Why were you fighting?" Arius finally asked.
Isaac coughed, a thick, wet sound, and tried to laugh. "Why do you care?"
"You owe me an answer," Arius said. His voice was quiet. Firm. "You owe her one too."
I swallowed hard.
Isaac's breath rattled as he spoke. "If I survive this… if I get the guild reward for helping defend the city…"
His voice cracked again, and blood touched the edge of his lips.
"I was gonna buy a small ranch. Just outside the border. Somewhere quiet."
He looked up at Arius, eyes flickering, fading.
"And then… then I was gonna visit her. Apologize. Maybe bring flowers or something dumb like that."
"…Ask for her forgiveness."
I felt something twist inside me.
"You think a ranch makes up for what you did?" Arius asked. Not angry. Just… tired.
Isaac blinked slow. "No. But maybe it buys me a chance to say the things I couldn't back then."
He turned to me, just barely.
"I know I can't fix it. I know that."
"Stop talking," I said. My hands were glowing again, pushing more and more magic into him. "You're making it worse."
But Arius stepped closer. "Then why, Isaac?" His voice dropped lower. "Why'd you hurt her in the first place?"
Isaac was quiet for a long moment. Then…
"…Because I was scared."
A breath caught in my throat.
"I didn't want to be married. I didn't want a kid. I didn't want to stay in that town with all those liars."
He coughed again. More blood. His body shook.
"I was forced into it. Her father wanted me to 'make a man of myself.' They arranged the whole thing. I didn't even get to say no."
I watched Arius' expression. I couldn't read it. He was just… listening.
"I hated waking up every day knowing I wasn't ready. Knowing I'd disappoint her. That I'd disappoint the baby. That I wasn't enough."
His voice cracked. "So I made myself the monster before anyone else could call me one."
Tears ran down Isaac's cheeks.
"I hit her once. Then I hated myself. Then I ran."
I couldn't speak.
He looked at Arius again, eyes filled with something deeper than guilt. Something raw.
"I don't deserve her. I just want to tell her that. That I'm sorry. That I know I failed her before I even tried."
The silence afterward felt too loud.
Then—A screech.
A horrible, guttural, echoing shriek from the trees behind us. The ground vibrated. The air thickened.
Arius slowly turned his head.
"…Good," he said.
And then the Swarm Tyrant stepped into the clearing.
"MOVE! IT'S ABOUT TO ATTACK!" Adonis's voice roared through the battlefield like thunder cracking the sky.
I managed to quickly move away.
But then I saw it.
Arius.
Not running.
Just… standing. With his daggers drawn, back arched like he was born to fight monsters.
The Swarm Tyrant's eyes locked on Isaac, twitching with hunger. Its claws rose.
Arius stepped forward.
"You owe me one for this, Isaac," he muttered, tone dry.
Isaac didn't even answer. He just stared at him with the same wide-eyed shock I felt in my own chest.
And me?
I wanted to stand. I wanted to cast something. Anything.
But my legs were shaking. My mana was drained. My heart was pounding in my ears.
I tried to speak, but only a little squeak came out. Then Arius looked over his shoulder and gave me a small, lopsided smile.
"You're still the same, Sophia."
Still the same…?
What does that even mean?
Before I could figure it out, Arius pushed forward, his dagger moving with precision. He deflected the Tyrant's swipe with one dagger and spun back to cover both me and Isaac.
I tried to lift my arm.
"Just a spell, c'mon Sophia, c'mon—" I whispered.
But my body was shaking. I had already spent everything I had. Every drop of light I could pull from the sky was gone. My vision blurred.
I was empty.
The Swarm Tyrant screeched, its limbs slicing through the air like saws of death. One strike nearly clipped Arius—but he dodged, barely, flipping back with a breath to spare.
Then—Adonis arrived.
"ENOUGH!" he shouted, closing in like a meteor, his sword flaming with righteous fury.
But just as he was about to strike, the Swarm Tyrant turned—and unleashed a wave of mid-air poisoned blade strikes.
Not at us.
At Adonis.
Dozens of black slashes rained down. Celestial defenses cracked. Dust and flame exploded into the sky.
Adonis was forced to block, pulled into a defensive flurry—distracted.
And that's when the Tyrant turned back to us.
Me.
Isaac.
Arius.
It raised both of its claws. I couldn't even scream. My mouth opened, but no sound came. My heart froze.
And then—Arius whispered.
"Not now."
He stepped forward, right between us and death.
His daggers crossed. His stance wide.
And then it struck.
Its claws went straight through his chest.
The sick, crunching sound was something I don't think I'll ever stop hearing. I couldn't look away—even though every part of me screamed to.
Poison veins burst around the wound, spreading like ink across his ribs. His face twisted—not in pain, but in focus.
He didn't fall yet.
He just looked back at us—me—and smiled, stupidly, softly.
And collapsed.
"Arius…?"
Adonis roared. The kind of scream that didn't sound human anymore.
He launched at the Swarm Tyrant, each swing of his blade carving the sky itself. Celestial magic erupted like divine explosions—heavenly light raining down in rage.
But none of that mattered to me.
I just dropped beside Arius, barely able to catch him before his head hit the ground.
His blood was warm. Too warm.
I pressed my hands against the wound, even though I knew it was too deep.
I tried to pour magic I didn't have left into him anyway.
"Don't you dare," I whispered. "You don't get to do this."
He didn't answer. His eyes fluttered.
And suddenly my chest hurt.
Like something was breaking open.
Like I had felt this before. Not the blood. Not the fear.
The pain.
This ache in my ribs. This raw, cold, twisting emptiness.
It was familiar.
"…Why does this feel like it's happening again?" I whispered, not even realizing I said it out loud.
I didn't know if I meant the past or now.
Maybe both.
But either way…
I wasn't ready to lose him.
His blood was everywhere.
My hands were shaking as I tried to stop it, tried to push what little magic I had left into Arius's wound, but it just kept pouring out—like his body didn't care how hard I was trying. Like it had already decided to leave me.
"Please…" I whispered, my voice barely a breath. "Don't do this…"
And then… he moved.
Slowly, his trembling hand reached into the inside of his coat. Fingers barely functioning. I watched, confused, as he pulled out a small, glass vial of green liquid—tucked deep in his overcoat, like something secret.
He clutched it in his bloodied hand… and began to crawl.
"Arius…?" I blinked, confused. "What are you doing? You need to lie down—"
But he didn't answer.
He dragged himself toward Isaac, leaving a trail of crimson across the grass. I followed beside him, almost fumbling over my own robes to support his weight. He was burning up—his body cold and hot all at once. I could feel the poison eating through him.
"Say something," I begged. "Please… what are you doing?"
No answer.
Just the sound of his breathing, harsh and uneven.
When he finally reached Isaac, who was barely conscious, he didn't hesitate.
He lifted a weak, trembling hand—And slapped him.
A sharp sound. A cruel sound. It cut through the silence.
Isaac jolted weakly, his body reacting out of shock.
And Arius whispered, through blood and breath:
"I promised your wife… you'd return safely back to her."
My eyes widened.
What…?
And then he tilted the vial to Isaac's lips and poured it in. The green liquid shimmered faintly in the dying light.
Isaac coughed—but then, suddenly… his color returned.
The veins on his neck faded from black to normal. His breathing steadied. His skin stopped shaking.
He was healing. Fast. Like... miraculously.
And Arius—He sagged.
Collapsed harder than before. His body curled in slightly like the pain finally took him.
"You're a bad man, Isaac," he murmured.
"Maybe you deserve to die instead of me…"
His breath rattled again.
"…But you have someone to return to."
His eyes fluttered… the blue in them dulling just slightly.
"Which I will never have."
And his head dropped.
Right there.
Right in front of me.
"No…" I whispered. My voice cracked.
I dropped to my knees, grabbing his arm.
"No, Arius… please… you can't—"
Tears hit my cheeks before I realized they were mine. My fingers shook as I gripped his shoulders.
"You can't die, Arius!" I sobbed. "You idiot! You sarcastic, smug, stupid idiot! You're supposed to live!"
Isaac's voice—weak and trembling—spoke beside me.
"...A-Arius…"
He stared at the man who just saved his life with a kind of horror.
The kind that only comes when you realize your second chance cost someone else their last.
But I—I knew this feeling.
This magic.
That vial.
That healing.
My breath caught. My vision blurred.
At the Asura Academy.
When I was dying silently from inside.
Without any cures.. without any help from anyone. He helped me.
That cure.
It was him.
He made it again.
To save someone else.
I looked at him—and I finally saw him.
The man who lied.
Who vanished after saving me.
Who never told me the truth.
"…You lied to me again," I whispered.
Arius stirred faintly.
And with what little life he had left, he smiled softly. Just for me.
"I'm sorry for lying to you again… Sophia."
And then…
He was still.
Gone forever...
I held his body like it would change something. Like maybe if I just held on hard enough… he'd come back.
But he didn't.
He was cold.
Still.
And… silent.
Tears streamed down my face, spilling without permission. My voice cracked as I leaned closer, whispering through the sobs I tried so hard to hold back.
"So you disguised yourself all along…?" My fingers curled into his coat, knuckles white.
"You lied that you didn't know who you were. Lied like it meant nothing. Like I wouldn't remember." I looked at him—at the peacefulness on his face that only made it worse.
"Why…?" The words felt like ash in my throat.
"Why didn't you just tell me the truth… even once?"
I couldn't breathe. My chest burned. My heart felt like it was folding in on itself.
"Why…" I whispered again, biting back a sob.
"…why did you lie to me again?"
My hands trembled as they held his jacket tighter. The tears didn't stop, no matter how much I tried to blink them back.
Then the name slipped from my lips. Quiet. Barely a breath.
"…Kaiser… why'd you do this to me again?"
My voice broke completely.
"Why'd you make me cry… again?"
A soft groan behind me. Isaac. He was slipping into unconsciousness—his body still slowly healing, the potion working through him.
But I didn't look back.
I couldn't. Because I was afraid if I let go of Arius now… I'd lose the last piece of who I used to be.
Footsteps.
I didn't turn. I didn't need to.
"Sophia?!"
Sylvia. Her voice was close, worried.
"Are you okay?! What happened—?"
But I couldn't speak.
My voice… just didn't come out.
She stepped closer. I heard her gasp softly.
Then silence.
I knew the moment she saw him.
She didn't say anything right away—just stood there, still, unmoving.
And I finally found my voice again—fragile and distant.
"…He lied to us again."
Sylvia blinked. "He…?"
Confusion in her voice.
But then—Realization.
I didn't need to look up to know it was written all over her face.
She stared at him.
At Arius.
And everything finally made sense.
Adonis's POV — Pride Beneath the Heavens
I ran like a man possessed.
The Swarm Tyrant had vanished into the smoke ahead, and I could feel it through the air—the pull of something ravenous, devouring not just bodies… but strength, magic, knowledge. It wasn't feeding to survive.
It was evolving.
I burst through a fallen barricade of broken spears and half-burnt wood, only to see what I feared: the Tyrant feasting on the bodies of the wounded.
Gnawing.
Devouring.
Evolving.
Its grotesque body twitched and expanded with every bite, absorbing their traits, their techniques, their mana structures.
Even in the heart of chaos, it was calculating. Improving.
I gritted my teeth.
I couldn't go all out on it. Not here. Not now. Not while civilians were still screaming.
Not while people still needed saving.
My knights—bless their unwavering discipline—held firm on the western end, but fourteen against thousands of grotesques was never going to be enough.
And everywhere I looked—guild members were falling, overrun by these mutated, slithering beasts. Creatures once vulnerable to our blades now shrugged them off like dull twigs.
I couldn't ignore that.
My pride wouldn't let me.
I slashed at the Tyrant with a storm-forged blade of lightning, following it with a wave of celestial flame. The mix of elemental and heavenly magic blasted a crater into the earth, sending the beast reeling backward.
"Divine Cross Slash—Heaven's Judgement!" I roared, and my blade struck true, carving glowing white lines into its chitin armor.
But it didn't fall.
It didn't feel pain.
It laughed.
And I didn't have the luxury to finish it off—because behind me, a mother's scream tore through the air, and I turned.
Grotesques had broken through the southern barrier.
The defense was gone.
They were in Rinascita.
I growled. "Damn it—!"
I leapt over the battlefield, cutting down grotesques as I went, slicing through their mutated limbs with furious precision. My blade moved like divine wind—pure, without flaw. But it wasn't enough.
They were in the town square.
They were in the homes.
A grotesque lunged at a crying child, cornered against the shattered stone wall of a bakery. I didn't think—I moved. Celestial propulsion launched me through the square. My shoulder collided with the beast, shattering it against the ground.
"Run!" I told the boy, but he didn't move—he was frozen.
And then I saw it—The Swarm Tyrant, perched atop a half-crushed building, its eyes locked on the child.
It opened its mouth—And spat a jagged spear of poison toward him.
I stepped in front of it.
No hesitation.
The projectile buried itself into my forearm with a sickening snap and sear. I felt the venom crawl under my skin like black fire, burning through muscle and magic.
But I didn't fall.
I clenched my jaw, letting the pain course through me.
"…You will not take him," I muttered.
My knees dipped, but I remained standing. And then I saw them.
My knights.
Rushing toward me through the fog of war.
"Captain!" one of them called out. "Are you—?!"
"I'm fine," I answered.
I wasn't.
But the blessing of the God of Pride coursed through me still—its celestial shield numbing the spread. For now.
"The poison won't reach my heart just yet," I said, voice tight. "But I don't have much time."
I looked around me.
The grotesques had reached the center.
People were dying.
Not adventurers. Not knights.
Families.
The square was no longer a battleground—it was a slaughterhouse.
The bakery I passed through earlier—burning, flames licking up the wooden walls as smoke covered the windows. A woman pounded against the glass from the inside, trying to get to her son. Before I could move—
The building collapsed.
Her scream was buried beneath the rubble.
Her son stood outside. Screaming for her.
Screaming like his lungs would tear.
And I couldn't move fast enough.
To my left, grotesques had overrun the guild defensive line.
Guild members were sobbing as they tried to hold them back, but their swords bent, their magic fizzled.
One cried out, "I can't hurt it! Why won't my sword work?!"
Another was on the ground, blood pouring from his side as he begged for someone—anyone—to find his brother.
Zain…
I saw him.
Surrounded.
His flames were weak, more smoke than fire, his breathing ragged as he spun in place, slashing wildly.
"Stay away!" he screamed, but his voice cracked with something that wasn't anger.
It was fear.
A grotesque caught his ankle and dragged him down, and I watched him cry out, not in pain—but in rage.
Rage at himself. At this. At how helpless we had become.
There were only three guilds present—each powerful in their own right. But even combined, we were barely a 120.
Some were already dead.
The rest? Cornered. Dying slowly.
Thousands of grotesques surrounded us, their bodies shifting, growing stronger by the second. They had adapted biologically. We hadn't.
And with the Sword Saints down—no strategy, no morale, no amount of leadership could change what was coming.
Not anymore.
Grotesques poured into the homes now. I heard the wooden door of a tailor's shop splinter and a child's voice shriek inside.
A mother stood on the doorstep, shielding her daughter with her body.
"Run," she whispered, voice breaking.
But the child didn't run.
She clung to her, crying, as the grotesques descended like wolves.
One leapt.
I blinked—And they were gone.
All that remained was blood.
...
I looked around—my knights scattered, trying to hold the flanks, but they were too few.
14 knights against an ocean of evolved grotesques.
The dead outnumbered the living. And the Swarm Tyrant hadn't even begun to use its full power yet.
If we lost here—if Rinascita fell—The Swarm Tyrant would continue.
It would march to the heart of Celestine.
Devouring the knowledge of mages, knights, saints…
And then turn that knowledge into evolution for itself.
This was not just a city we would lose...
This was the barrier between the grotesques and the rest of the world.
And we were losing.
I gripped my sword tighter, blood dripping down my arm, poison pulsing through my veins. My vision blurred.
"Captain—!" One of my knights reached me, panting, blood across his cheek. "The north wall is gone! They've breached the defenses! The healer wards are falling!"
I didn't answer.
My legs trembled—not from pain, but from the decision I didn't want to make.
I could kill the Swarm Tyrant.
I knew I could.
But it would take everything.
All of me.
And while I was locked in battle—Rinascita would burn.
The people would die.
Children. Families. All of them.
And when the fire faded, all that would remain was ash and a legend that Adonis fought valiantly… but failed to save anyone.
A failed knight of honor...
I shut my eyes.
The God of Pride stirred.
Then… a whisper.
"The Heaven's Gift has arrived."
My eyes snapped open.
And in the distance—
Through the clouds and fire—A single beam of light pierced the sky.
Descending.
I could feel it—the moment the air changed.
Just as another grotesque surged toward a wounded mother shielding her child, a mirror-like barrier blinked into existence, catching the monster mid-lunge. It didn't stop there.
A second mirror formed above, then a third—each refracting light, bending it into beams so bright and precise they seared through the grotesques like divine lances. The beasts shrieked, their mutated bodies unable to adapt to whatever kind of magic this was.
I turned my head toward the sky.
And from the golden path of the sun itself…
A cloaked boy descended.
Light pooled around him—not raw and chaotic like a child's power, but refined, calculated. Beautiful in its ruthlessness. His coat fluttered as he stepped forward, wiping blood from his palms like the battle hadn't even started for him.
"Just on time," he said, wiping blood off his wrist with a flick, like this battle was merely an inconvenience.
He didn't even look at me. His eyes were locked forward—only on killing.
The Swarm Tyrant noticed too.
Its chitinous head twisted, locked onto the boy like a beast feeling challenged.
With a screech that cracked glass, it fired blades of poisonous bone—straight toward Lucas.
I moved to intervene—But I didn't need to.
He calmly raised a single hand. "Barrier."
A wall of radiant gold materialized between him and the attack, shattering the poison on impact. Then, he snapped his fingers.
Light scattered.
Dozens more barriers emerged across the battlefield—shielding civilians, children, and bleeding soldiers in domes of safety.
My heart stuttered in my chest.
"…Incredible."
I knew that face. That presence.
Lucas.
The prodigy whose name had reached Asura long before he ever stood before me.
Empress Rose had once warned me: "If you ever come across a boy in Celestine whose magic feels beyond a heaven's gift… do not underestimate him."
And she was right.
He was beyond gifted.
She was right.
He wasn't gifted. He was chosen.
And yet—Before I could even process what I'd just seen—Another voice struck the air.
"Missed me, you shitty pest?"
The Swarm Tyrant turned—But it was already too late.
Chains erupted from the ground, thick and dark like shadows wrapped in firelight. They spiraled through the air with a serpentine hiss, then coiled tightly around the monster's limbs and neck.
"It's time to be burned alive."
The chains ignited—hellfire licking up their length—and in one tremendous motion, they whipped the Swarm Tyrant into the stone, cracking the earth beneath it.
The battlefield froze for half a breath.
And then I saw her.
Amid the ash and sparks, her hair a curtain of silver flame—Her crimson eyes gleaming through the smoke—
Her presence radiating both sorrow and unrepentant destruction—
Celia.
The Cursed Girl.
The one the Empress had sent me to kill.
I stared at her from across the battlefield, sword still drawn.
And for the first time in this entire war, I didn't know whether to raise my blade—Or lower it.
"She's… helping?" one of my knights muttered behind me.
Another stepped forward, eyes flicking between Lucas and Celia, both holding back the Swarm Tyrant with overwhelming force.
"We should leave the Tyrant to them. The civilians are dying. We can still save the people."
I said nothing.
My grip on my sword tightened.
The Empress's words echoed in my mind like thunder: If you see the cursed girl, kill her.
Orders are my highest priority.
I took one step forward—And then, a voice filled my soul.
"Let those two defeat the Swarm Tyrant."
"Save the people, Adonis."
My God.
The God of Pride.
Even in the face of such power, his voice was calm.
Because pride was not always in conquest.
Sometimes, it was in restraint.
I closed my eyes for a moment.
"…Very well," I said quietly, turning from the battlefield. "We'll do what must be done."
I looked once more at the girl with burning chains in her hands and the boy of light and precision beside her.
"I'll kill her after this is over," I muttered under my breath.
My knights gave Celia a sharp glare as they turned. One even scoffed under his breath, disgust curling his lip.
But none of us stayed.
We split off, swords drawn, shields raised.
Running toward the screams.
Toward the people.
Toward the lives we still had a chance to save.
And we left the Calamity…
To the Devil's Daughter and Heaven's Blessing.