Malek lay broken on the stone floor, a twitching, ruined mass of demonic flesh. The immense, life-burning power he had summoned was gone, leaving him a hollowed-out shell. His monstrous form was already beginning to shrink, the demonic energy that sustained it dissipating like smoke.
He could feel his life slipping away, each ragged breath a monumental effort. In his dying moments, a strange, horrifying clarity descended upon his fractured mind. He didn't regret the path he had chosen, the pacts he had made, or the atrocities he had committed. He only regretted his weakness.
He looked at the figure of Khaos, who stood over him not with the triumph of a victor, but with the profound, disdainful boredom of a being who had just finished a trivial task. Malek had sought ultimate power, had sacrificed his very humanity for it, and had become a god in this backwater world.
But before this man, he was nothing. He had failed. His mind flashed back to the moment of his fatal error. He had been so close, had felt a surge of hope as his opponent was forced to take a step back. In his arrogance, he had taunted him. Who knew, he thought with a final, bitter irony, of all the things I have done, a simple insult would be what truly sealed my fate.
He had misjudged his opponent on a fundamental level, mistaking a predator toying with its food for a warrior engaged in an honorable duel. He regretted not having more power. If only he had been stronger, he could have crushed this arrogant fool.
With his last, dying breath, he gathered the final dregs of his strength, not for a final attack, but for a final, spiteful prophecy. He pushed his head up, his burning eyes locking with Khaos's cold gaze, and screamed, his voice a wet, gurgling sound filled with pure malice. "This is not the end! The Abyss is eternal! The demons will return, and it will be then that you all shall suffer!"
Khaos watched the last spark of life fade from Malek's eyes, his expression unchanging. The demon's body rapidly decayed, dissolving into a black, foul-smelling sludge that seeped into the cracked stone, leaving behind only the tattered remnants of his robes and a single, massive storage ring. Khaos let out a quiet sigh, a sound not of relief, but of profound disappointment.
"Pathetic," he said, his voice quiet but carrying across the now-silent cavern. "Even his last words were not for himself, but for his so-called masters. A true slave to the very end." He flexed his hands, feeling the last vestiges of the battle's thrill fade away. "I had hoped he could put up a better fight. That he would force me to truly test my limits."
He glanced down at his chest, where the faint, white scratches from Malek's attack had long since vanished. "But my physical limits were still not tested. It was a good warm-up, I suppose." His most worthy opponent to date and still a disappointment.
He had finished his hunt. He turned and began to walk, his steps slow and deliberate, out of the crater and across the battlefield towards Li Yu. The Radiant Dawn disciples, who had gathered behind Grand Elder Theron, simply watched his slow, deliberate walk.
They did not move, did not dare to breathe, their hearts filled with a mixture of terror and awe. They simply observed the passage of a being they knew they could never comprehend.
Khaos stopped directly in front of Li Yu, his dark eyes holding a hint of annoyance. "Little boy," he said, his voice low and firm. "Do not bother me again for weaklings like this. Only call upon me when you face a true monster, I desire a true fight, or I will devour you both."
And with that final, chilling command, he dissolved. He did not fly away or vanish in a flash of light. His physical form simply faded, turning into a river of primordial darkness that flowed into a point of nothingness and then was gone. He had returned to the Koi Sanctuary, leaving everyone in the cavern utterly stunned.
They had just witnessed a being of unimaginable power arrive, annihilate a terrifying demon, and then depart as if he had simply been passing through, a true master who came and went as he pleased, unbound by the rules of the world.
The moment he was gone, the oppressive, primordial pressure that had filled the cavern vanished, and everyone could finally breathe again.
Li Yu looked across the devastated valley towards the assembled group from the Forest of the Radiant Dawn. Grand Elder Theron was being tended to by his disciples, but his gaze was fixed on them. It was time for introductions.
Li Yu and Cyra walked towards them, their steps echoing in the now-quiet cavern. As they approached, the Radiant Dawn disciples watched them with a complex mixture of gratitude and wary respect. They had seen Li Yu fighting on their behalf, a whirlwind of destruction against the Hegemony forces, saving countless prisoners with his incredible strength.
They would not treat him as an enemy, but the sheer power of the being he called 'Grand Elder' was so terrifying that a palpable tension remained in the air. The grand elder was strong but only cared for himself, how would these people be is what they wondered.
It was Cyra who spoke first, her voice calm, clear, and filled with an authority that commanded respect. She had already formulated the necessary cover story in her mind. "Grand Elder Theron," she began, her tone formal and respectful, but not subservient. "We are part of the Golden Shell Guild. The man who just departed is our First Grand Elder. He values his privacy and prefers not to be disturbed."
She gestured to herself. "I am Cyra, an Elder of the Guild." Then, she gestured to Li Yu. "And this is Li Yu, the Grand Elder's personal disciple. In our Grand Elder's absence, I am empowered to represent the Guild in all decisions."
The revelation sent a shockwave through the assembled disciples. The Golden Shell Guild? A merchant organization? They had a Grand Elder capable of such terrifying power? It was unthinkable. But they had seen it with their own eyes. The story, as unbelievable as it was, was the only explanation they had.
Grand Elder Theron's ancient eyes widened slightly, a flicker of understanding dawning on his face. He recalled the intelligence reports he had commissioned upon their arrival on this continent. The Golden Shell Guild was noted as a rising economic power, starting to become the most influential merchant force in the region, a large part of that due to whispers of powerful, unseen backers.
He had dismissed it as the usual bluster of a wealthy, but ultimately mundane, organization. To think the truth was not only real but was a gross understatement of a reality that no report could ever convey. A being that could beat a peak Soul Formation demon as a plaything was not a 'backer'; it was a patron deity.
He pushed himself away from the disciples who were supporting him and stood, albeit unsteadily, on his own two feet.
He performed a deep, formal bow, a gesture of profound respect from one of the most powerful men on his continent. "On behalf of the Forest of the Radiant Dawn, I thank you," he said, his voice filled with a sincere, heartfelt gratitude. "Without your Grand Elder's intervention, I fear we all would have perished here today. You have saved us all."
Behind him, Lysander, who had barely recovered enough from the recovery pill and was now sitting up, his face pale and his expression grim as he stared at the stump where his left arm had been, also struggled to his feet with the help of two disciples. He, too, performed a deep, one-armed bow. Following their leaders' example, every single disciple of the Forest of the Radiant Dawn, hundreds of them, bowed in unison, a silent, powerful expression of their collective gratitude for their salvation.