Two days had passed since the battle in the Cursed Forest. Two days since he had returned alone, while the seventy soldiers who went with him... none survived.
"You're restless," Satan commented.
Leon sighed. "I'm thinking about them. The soldiers who died."
"You can't save everyone, boy."
"I know. But..." Leon clenched his fist.
"They died under my command. I led them there. I failed to protect them."
"So? Are you going to cry all day?"
Leon snorted. "No. I want... to do something."
"What?"
Leon stood up. "I need to return to the battlefield."
"Are you insane? Your body just—"
"I know my body." Leon reached into his pocket. The teleportation scroll given by Sylvaine was still there. Only one use left.
"This won't take long."
Satan was silent. Then let out a long sigh.
"You're... stubborn. You know, that's a trait I used to have too."
Leon smiled. "And you see the result?"
"...I died killed by gods. But at least I died on my own terms."
Leon didn't answer. He tore the scroll.
"To the Cursed Forest."
WHOOSH!
---
He arrived in the middle of the now-silent battlefield.
The smell of blood still lingered, mixed with the stench of rotting corpses. Bodies lay scattered everywhere—demon soldiers, wolf monsters, all mixed together in one pile of death.
Leon walked among them. His heart was heavy. These were his men. Those who followed his orders, who fought by his side, who died because he wasn't strong enough.
He stopped in their midst.
"Now what?" Satan asked.
Leon didn't answer. He knelt. His hand touched the ground soaked with blood.
"I failed to protect you," he whispered. "But I won't leave you here."
He closed his eyes. Felt the darkness within him. And slowly, he opened that door.
Darkness flowed from his palm, spread across the ground, touching each corpse around him one by one. And he felt them—souls still lingering. Not all. Some had truly departed. But some... were still there. Waiting.
"You want to summon all of them?" Satan asked, surprise in his tone. "Boy, you could—"
"I know the risk."
"..."
From the ground, one by one, the corpses began to move. Their eyes opened—glowing red. Their wounds slowly closed, replaced by glowing black lines. They rose, then knelt facing Leon.
Fifteen soldiers. Those remaining from the seventy.
Leon opened his eyes. His breath was ragged. Sweat drenched his forehead. Summoning Valker alone had drained his energy. Summoning fifteen at once...
"You're insane," Satan whispered. But his tone... wasn't angry. "Truly insane."
Leon smiled wearily. "Maybe."
He rose, his body unsteady. Then his eyes caught something in the pile of wolf carcasses.
The alpha wolf's corpse—the pack leader whose neck Valker had severed—still lay there. But from that giant body, Leon felt something. Not just an ordinary soul. This was... different.
"He's still there," Satan whispered, his tone serious.
"This pack leader's soul... is strong. Unwilling to leave."
Leon approached. Placed his hand on the giant head.
He felt it. Resistance. Anger. A wild soul unwilling to submit.
"I won't force you," Leon whispered.
"But you can choose. You can leave, or you can... rise. With me. Keep hunting. Keep fighting. Eternal."
The resistance began to fade. Replaced by... curiosity.
"Rise." Leon took a breath, though his body was at its limit. "Not as my slave, but as part of a new pack."
Darkness flowed. The giant body stirred. Its eyes opened—glowing red, but not empty. There was something there. Awareness. Recognition.
It rose. Stared at Leon. Then licked Leon's hand.
Leon was startled. "W-what?"
"He accepts you," Satan whispered, amusement in his voice amidst the wonder.
"Valker is a loyal soldier. But this one... he'll be more than just a soldier."
Leon stroked the giant head. "Fenrith. You are Fenrith."
The wolf let out a soft growl.
Leon smiled. But his smile faded as his body wavered. His vision blurred. Too much. He had summoned too much.
"Boy!"
"I'm... fine..." Leon knelt, gasping. But he could still think clearly. Could still feel Valker and Fenrith in the distance.
He looked at them. "Return for now. I'll call you again when needed."
Valker bowed obediently. Fenrith growled—like a protest, but ultimately complied. They vanished into the spatial rift.
Leon was alone.
With his remaining strength, he reached into his pocket. The last teleportation scroll was already used. But in another pocket, there was still one spare, given by Zephyr, unbeknownst to anyone.
"Lucky I brought this..." he murmured, his bloody hand tearing the paper.
"Belphegor... Palace..."
WHOOSH!
---
He appeared at the palace gates and immediately collapsed.
Blood flowed from wounds not yet fully healed. His body could no longer cope.
"Commander Leon!" a soldier on guard shouted in panic.
Two other soldiers ran over. "Quick! Take him to the Healing Room!"
They lifted Leon's nearly lifeless body. Blood soaked their arms. But Leon was still half-conscious, still could hear the voices around him.
In another dimension, Valker watched from a distance. His empty eyes, for the first time, showed something.
"Master... may you survive."
---
Leon drifted between consciousness and unconsciousness.
He felt himself being laid on something soft. The smell of medicinal herbs filled his senses. Footsteps, worried whispers.
Then, a voice he didn't recognize.
"Let me handle him."
The voice was calm, warm, but full of authority. Aerion, the Elf King.
Leon tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids were too heavy. All he could see was a flash of green light behind his closed lids.
"He's a master healer," Satan whispered. "You're lucky."
"I'm... not dying?"
"Not yet. But close."
Leon didn't have the energy to respond.
---
Three hours later.
Leon slowly opened his eyes. The familiar ceiling—the Belphegor Palace Healing Room. His body felt light, his wounds closed. But there was still weariness in his bones.
He turned his head. Beside the bed, a figure sat with head bowed. Dark blue-black hair. Princess Sylvaine.
She was asleep in the chair, her hand still tightly gripping Leon's.
Leon was silent. Stared at her. And for the first time, he noticed details he had previously missed. Her long eyelashes. Her peaceful face in sleep. The warmth of her grip even as she slept.
"She's been here since earlier," Satan whispered. "Wouldn't leave."
Leon didn't answer. But the corner of his lips lifted slightly.
The door opened.
Zephyr entered, followed by Aerion. They stopped at the sight—Sylvaine asleep beside Leon, their hands still clasped.
Zephyr smiled faintly. "Seems we came at the right moment."
Sylvaine startled awake. Her eyes were still drowsy, but when she saw Leon was conscious, she immediately widened them.
"Leon! You... you're awake!" Unconsciously, she still gripped his hand.
Leon smiled awkwardly. "Sorry... for making you worry again, Princess."
Sylvaine wanted to be angry, but her tears fell first. "You idiot!"
Aerion chuckled softly. "Leave them for now, Zephyr. We'll talk later."
The two kings exited, leaving Leon and Sylvaine.
Inside the room, there was only Sylvaine's sobbing and Leon's relieved sigh.
Within his heart, Leon whispered, "Thank you, Lord Satan."
"For what?"
"For... not letting me die."
Satan was silent.
"You're foolish, boy. But... I'm proud of you."
For the first time, Leon heard that tone from Satan. Not sarcastic. Not joking. But... sincere.
He smiled, closing his eyes.
=== CHAPTER 5 END ===