"It seems this will be troublesome."
Dermentian wiped his glasses before slipping them into his pocket.
A large golden bow materialized once again behind him.
"Shall we continue?"
"Arrogant human," the demon smirked. "I'll show you what true despair feels like."
Their eyes locked.
Both surged forward, their strikes clashing and shaking the ground with violent tremors.
Dermentian's golden arrow shot forward, straight toward the demon. The demon leapt aside, narrowly evading it.
Dermentian caught the returning arrow midair, dashed toward the demon, and clenched his fist tight before swinging it.
The demon's right hand appeared, blocking the blow, followed by a counterpunch from his left.
But Dermentian dodged swiftly. The arrow vanished, reappearing in his other hand.
He slammed his head into the demon's face, knocking the creature off balance.
Seizing the chance, he drove the arrow beneath the demon's jaw, forcing it deeper and deeper.
"Damn it!" The demon, gritting through the pain, flung Dermentian away, yanked out the arrow, and leapt back.
His massive fist came down, crushing the earth beneath it.
Dermentian dodged gracefully. He stepped back three times, then advanced with a sharp uppercut to the demon's chin.
He didn't stop there—his left fist followed, striking the demon's face, and a powerful kick sent the demon staggering backward.
The demon's eyes narrowed, enduring the pain from the barrage of blows. As he raised his head, Dermentian was already upon him.
The man leapt and landed a fierce knee strike, connecting squarely with the demon's jaw.
Dermentian's hands glowed golden, two arrows formed in his fists. He hurled them both with blinding speed. The demon crossed his arms to block.
Dermentian dashed forward and slammed his fist directly into the demon's face. Blood trickled from the creature's nostrils.
Before the demon could catch his breath, another strike landed on his face—yet Dermentian hadn't moved an inch.
Bending low, Dermentian launched a crushing uppercut, sending the demon's head snapping upward. Again, the same strike followed, landing precisely on the same spot.
"Damn… Who is this man? I've never seen such fighting technique." The demon wiped the blood from his nose.
"What's wrong?" Dermentian dusted off his cloak casually. "Don't tell me it's over already."
Meanwhile, Lucia and Dieora were startled by a sudden event—Dieora's body began to shine brightly.
"By the gods… The Chosen One… The Chosen One has arrived."
Everyone around them fell to their knees, they had been waiting for this moment.
"Dieora, what are you doing?" Lucia asked, her voice uncertain.
"I don't know… it just happened," Dieora replied truthfully.
From atop the tower, *Pentaur Lyee* glowed even brighter. Its light descended, walking upon the air, circling around Dieora's body.
"Abrehic, Lanore teo."
A single phrase—followed by a burst of light. The demon, who had staggered from Dermentian's blows, quickly regained his footing and leapt toward Pentaur Lyee.
But it was useless. The light exploded, scattering like dust in the wind, flinging the demon backward violently.
Dieora stared at his hands, his breathing unsteady, his eyes glowing intensely.
"Dieora, are you all right?" Lucia grabbed his shoulders, worried.
No answer. Something about Dieora seemed… different.
"Dieora! Answer me if you can hear me! Dieora!"
Her voice faded into a soft hum. Dieora's vision blurred, his body weakened.
"DIEORA!"
His head jerked upward suddenly, eyes and mouth wide open, bursting with radiant light.
His consciousness vanished, his soul felt detached from his body.
Dieora awoke somewhere unfamiliar. Chaos filled his surroundings, flames and shadows swirling everywhere.
But what caught his eyes was a tall figure before him—radiant wings of white light spread from its back.
"What… is this?"
The figure vanished, replaced by another—a kneeling silhouette before a horrifying being.
A demon.
Dieora's eyes widened. "Is this… the past?"
His gaze shifted, to his right stood another figure, draped in white cloth, most of the body hidden.
White wings again, but shining brighter than before. The being's eyes pierced directly into Dieora. not his body, but his soul.
"Save… save this world, O Chosen One."
The being paused, its eyes glowing brighter.
"Dieora."
At that very moment, Dieora's consciousness returned. His breath ragged, panic filled his face, sweat dripping down his chin.
"Dieora!" Lucia's voice brought him back to focus. He inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself.
"How long… was I unconscious?" he asked, still trembling.
"One second ago," Lucia replied, confused.
"One second? But it felt like ten minutes there…" he thought to himself.
"Tell me what just happened," Lucia demanded, her tone firm.
"I'll tell you once we return," Dieora said, using his arm to push himself up.
Everyone around them stared in silence, their eyes filled with uncertainty, fear, or perhaps awe.
"Our duty is done. We've fulfilled the task we were given," said the village elder, leaning heavily on his wooden staff. Though frail, he stood resolute.
"Damn you all! I'll kill every last one of you!"
The demon roared, rising once again, grabbing his weapon and leaping toward them.
Dieora's hand rose instinctively—without touching him, the demon's body froze, his throat constricted.
"Actura Demaur."
The demon's eyes widened. Dieora had just spoken the ancient tongue, the language of demons themselves.
"Yaruza Deremo, Yaruza Eskavar, Sak Torua lemo…"
Dieora's gaze sharpened.
"Esserah Demorah!"
The demon's body shattered instantly, leaving nothing but splattered blood on the ground.
Lucia stepped back in shock, her usual calm face now twisted with fear. The words Dieora spoke, the heavy and unfamiliar tone, sent chills through her.
"Dieora… is that really you?"
Dieora turned to her, his eyes still glowing.
Lucia raised her weapon. "Don't make me do this, Dieora."
He raised his hand behind him. A red light flared in his palm, dense magical energy radiated outward.
With a small thrust, he released it. The blast shot through the sky, heading west—toward where Dermentian was.
Blow after blow echoed between Dermentian and the demon.
Suddenly, Dermentian's eyes widened, he sensed something powerful rushing his way. He turned back and dodged.
The blast struck the demon directly.
**BOOM!**
The explosion obliterated the creature and the ground beneath it.
"What just happened?" Dermentian muttered, realizing the attack came from Lucia and Dieora's direction.
Without hesitation, he rushed toward them.
Meanwhile, Lucia was trying to revive Dieora. The moment the explosion occurred, he had collapsed unconscious.
Lucia placed his head gently on her lap, while the villagers scrambled to fetch water.
"I have one! I brought it!" a man shouted, raising a small bottle.
"I have one too!"
"And me!"
Now three bottles total.
"Is this all? Where are the rest?" asked the village chief.
"These are the only ones left, sir. The rest were destroyed by the demons."
The elder took the bottles. "This should be enough."
He poured the water into a large wooden bowl and muttered an incantation. As his hand rose, the water began to glow.
He scooped it up and said urgently, "Open his mouth."
Lucia nodded, obeying.
"Zameora sa zameora, la Sirua tuh kalum."
The villagers repeated the words three times.
The elder focused his gaze—the sacred water flowed, seeking its path. According to their ancestors, it should gather at the Chosen One's heart, calming the raging magic within.
Indeed, the water gathered there, flooding the turbulent energy. But three bottles were barely enough.
"Hold on, child… you must endure," the elder whispered, placing his hand gently on Dieora's chest.
Dieora winced in pain, his small body struggled to contain the overwhelming power.
Then his expression softened—the water had done its work.
"Will he be all right?" Lucia asked.
"He will now. But it will take two, maybe three days before he awakens."
Lucia's eyes widened. Three days? it was longer than she hoped.
The elder rested his hand on her shoulder.
"Do not worry. It's all right now. Believe in the boy."
Lucia clenched her fists, exhaling heavily. She could only trust the outcome to fate.
At that moment, Dermentian arrived, breathing hard. His eyes widened when he saw Dieora lying there.
"Damn you! What did you do to my student?!" Dermentian grabbed the elder by the collar.
"Wait, Sir Dermentian!" Lucia quickly stood and pulled them apart.
"Everything's fine. Dieora lost consciousness after absorbing the magic of *Pentaur Lyee*. This man saved him."
Dermentian glanced at the elder, his expression softening. "My apologies… I misunderstood." He released his grip.
Then came the sound of footsteps—many of them. Around ten figures approached swiftly.
"Sir Dermentian!" they shouted.
They were students from Luiotra Academy summoned to assist if two hours had passed without contact.
But they also brought news.
"Sir! The demons have returned. Not only in this continent, but also in the western and southern lands!" one reported breathlessly.
It was true. The demons had returned.
And far in the west… they were searching for something.
Zhypon.