The night has fallen without the moon and without stars, leaving the world submerged in darkness that feels never-ending. The sky is black like stained velvet, only occasionally illuminated by distant lightning, forming lines of light that reveal the silhouette of Tiamat drawing closer. The rumble of her voice echoes, shaking every bone, making human chests tremble as if the world itself is taking its last breath. In the midst of the darkness, the scent of wet earth envelops the air, giving the impression that nature is trembling along with the fear that blankets the night.

  In the city of Thirtos, now merely remnants of past grandeur, every corner is filled with chaos that is nearly uncontrollable. At the old altar where Joanna lies weak, people gather with faces full of fear and mixed hope. Joanna, known as the Witch of Time, the protector of the city who has sacrificed everything, now lies in an increasingly critical condition. Her breaths are short and heavy, as if her lungs refuse the air that comes. The sound of worried whispers and the rapid beating of hearts can be clearly heard among the crowd, creating a suffocating tension.

  Rinoa sits by Joanna's side, her hand continuously holding Joanna's hand, which feels colder by the moment. A soft yellow light flows slowly from her fingers, a simple healing magic that cannot erase the deep wounds caused by the mana that has been completely drained from Joanna's body. As Rinoa holds Joanna's hand, she can feel the fine, cold dust surrounding the young witch's wrist, as if the magic that once flowed within her is beginning to fade, leaving behind a shadow of its lost power.

  "Joanna..." Rinoa whispers softly, trying to hide the fear in her voice. She gently brushes Joanna's hair, damp with cold sweat, hoping her touch can provide a little strength for the young witch. The air around them feels heavy and humid, reminding Rinoa of the atmosphere before a storm, when everything seems calm but is waiting to break.

  Joanna slowly opens her eyes, her gaze that was once sharp now dulled by extreme fatigue. "Forgive me," she says in a very soft voice, almost inaudible, as if every word that comes out is a last-ditch effort forced out despite her weakening pulse. The soft light that once surrounded them begins to fade, leaving a sighing impression in Rinoa's heart.

  "Your mother is very proud of you. Let your aunt do this. You don’t need to apologize anymore," Rinoa says quickly, trying to smile even though her heart is filled with pain. "You have saved so many souls today. Without you, this city would surely have perished." Rinoa's voice trembles, and she cannot avoid the warm feeling touching the corners of her eyes, salty as it gets trapped in the uncertainty of Joanna's fate.

  Joanna gives a weak smile, her lips moving as if she wants to say something, but her voice can no longer escape her throat. Her eyes begin to close slowly, her body growing weaker, like a dry leaf falling from a tree. Rinoa holds her breath for a moment, checking Joanna's pulse, which feels very weak but still there, so faint like the whisper of the night wind that stirs the silence.

  "She is still alive," Rinoa announces to the few people anxiously watching from behind her. "But she needs a long rest. Do not let anyone disturb her until she fully recovers." Her voice is firm, yet between her words lies a deep desire to protect, making her hope tremble in the tense air.

  An old woman, wearing a tattered robe from the disaster that has occurred, steps forward slowly, bowing her head. "We will watch over her, Lady Rinoa. We owe her so much." The woman's voice trembles, full of gratitude and devotion, as if every word is a promise etched in the hearts of those empowered by Joanna's sacrifice.

  Rinoa nods gently, standing slowly while taking a deep breath to calm her chaotic thoughts. She then turns her gaze to another part of the city still filled with the sounds of panicked screams and children's cries, the echoes of fear resonating in the air, creating a suffocating sense of anxiety. Every glance sweeps across the city, now resembling a battlefield that has lost, her heart feeling heavier, filled with the burden of loss and fading hope.

  From a distance, the loud thud of thousands of golems begins to sound clearer, the thudding noise shaking the ground adding to the panic enveloping the atmosphere. Fitran is leading his ancient army, moving slowly yet surely towards the city center, the large shadow dimming the sunlight. Rinoa sees Fitran among the golems, the man's face looks stern, his eyes burning with determination that grows stronger with each passing second, mixed with curiosity and uncertainty about what will happen next.

  Fitran stops for a moment when he sees Rinoa standing near the altar, then steps closer, his steps steady despite the tense atmosphere. His gaze briefly glances at Joanna lying there, his expression hardening in barely contained anger, as if there is a flame igniting within him, reflecting the unspoken rage.

  "What is her condition?" Fitran asks in a low voice, yet full of hidden anxiety, his voice trembling like leaves swaying in the wind.

  "She is alive, but nearly dead from acute mana exhaustion," Rinoa replies softly, her voice sounding bitter, flowing like tears held back in her throat. "She will not be able to fight again anytime soon," she feels as if she is laying out a painful reality she does not want to believe.

  Fitran closes his eyes for a moment, his face showing deep guilt, as if the world around him has vanished and only Rinoa and Joanna exist. "This is not your fault," Rinoa says, as if reading Fitran's heart, her smile full of empathy even though tears want to spill from her eyes, reflecting the hope struggling to stay alive amidst the darkness of the situation.

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  Fitran opens his eyes, staring sharply at the increasingly turbulent sea, full of ancient creatures that are now beginning to swim towards the remaining land. The cold night wind blows, carrying the sharp scent of sea salt, heightening the tension in the air. "We are responsible for this disaster. We must end it."

  "We have not lost," Rinoa asserts, her voice strong again. With a gaze full of conviction, she straightens her back, as if wanting to dispel the fear that envelops them. "There is still much we can save, Fitran. We must endure."

  Fitran nods slowly. He looks back at Joanna, now surrounded by citizens trying to provide her comfort as best they can. The panic and uncertainty wrap around them like a thick blanket. "Send a signal to all golems to form a tight defense around the city," Fitran commands firmly. "Not a single Tiamat creature is to cross the line."

  With a simple hand gesture, the stone golems begin to move, creating a strong living wall of defense. The sound of large stones shifting seems to create a symphony of defense that encourages the citizens to hold onto one another. The people of Thirtos watch with a mix of awe and fear, some beginning to feel a glimmer of hope come back to life within them.

  However, in the sea that is now completely black, something begins to change. The waves crash hard, driving away the calm of the dark night. The creatures that were previously only seen faintly beneath the surface now begin to emerge clearly. Terrifying forms of ancient monsters that have long been sealed in the darkness of the ocean. Their eyes glow red, their massive bodies covered in fins and tentacles thrashing wildly with an insatiable thirst for blood.

  "The Tiamat monsters are starting to come," whispers a young man with a trembling voice, pointing towards the sea filled with dark shadows approaching quickly. The crashing waves create a terrifying sound, as if angry with the arrival of the long-held inhabitants of darkness.

  Fitran turns quickly, drawing his Voidlight sword that immediately shines brightly in the darkness of the night. The light of the sword illuminates his face, showing an expression full of determination, while the night wind rustles, carrying the scent of sea salt and the tension hanging in the air.

  "We will not retreat," he declares loudly, voicing the resolve of all who can still endure. "If today the world ends, let it end with us fighting until the end!" His voice echoes, the energy of each word awakening the spirit that has been dormant in the hearts of the soldiers, making them feel as if they are cloaked in an unexpected strength.

  The cries of encouragement from the remaining citizens fill the air, giving new spirit to those who were on the verge of giving up. At the same time, thousands of stone golems now stand firm, ready to face the wave of attacks coming from the sea, the surface of the golems reflecting light as if they are alive, powered by the hope that has gathered.

  The inevitable battle begins. The first sea monsters crash against the golem wall brutally, the sound of their bodies colliding echoing in the air, creating vibrations that can be felt deep in the stomach. Fitran moves to the front line, swinging his sword quickly, unleashing bright light that splits the darkness and the monsters alike, the blackened remnants on the side of his sword speaking of the power and anger released in every swing.

  In the midst of the increasingly brutal battle, Rinoa remains close to Joanna, protecting the young woman while continuously monitoring the condition of the battlefield. She sees how hard Fitran is fighting, each of his strikes carrying the weight of a world now resting on his shoulders. The strong wind blows, bringing the scent of salt from the sea and the thick smell of gunpowder, while the sounds of loud crashes and screams echo in her ears, making the atmosphere even more tense.

  But far above them, Tiamat continues to move slowly closer to the land. Her blue eyes that shine brightly keep staring at the city of Thirtos with a terrifying desire that is becoming clearer. Slowly, her jaw opens, revealing a flash of blue light shining brightly from within her mouth. The hissing sound that sends shivers through the air makes every creature around tense, waiting for the launch of this deadly attack.

  Rinoa, seeing this, immediately feels her heart pounding. She knows what attack is coming next. "Fitran! She is going to attack!" Her voice nearly drowns in the cacophony of battle. With slightly trembling hands, she grabs Joanna's arm, trying to give strength to the young woman who looks frightened.

  Fitran looks up, realizing what is about to happen. He quickly raises his sword high, the ancient runes on his body glowing brightly, emanating a mystical aura that seems to ease some of the tension within his soul. With all the strength left in him, he shouts a word that resonates loudly across the battlefield, his voice breaking the silence for a moment.

  "Barrier!"

  A great light envelops the entire city, creating a second protective dome, this time stronger and more solid, formed from the full power of the Nameless Monarch. In the next moment, the blue beam from Tiamat's mouth strikes directly at the dome, causing a tremendous energy impact that shakes the entire land. The tremor seems to penetrate into Rinoa's body, causing every muscle fiber to tense and tremble, while small dust particles float in the air due to the released power.

  The dome holds, though small cracks begin to form slowly. Each crack that appears emits a terrifying creaking sound, reminding everyone present that Tiamat's pressure is not trivial, and their time is running out.

  Fitran holds his breath, his body shaking violently from the energy exerted, as if the entire world is trembling beneath his feet. "I will not give up," he whispers softly to himself, biting his lip hard to endure longer, tasting the bitterness of blood sticking to his teeth.

  At the altar where Joanna lies, Rinoa gazes at the sky filled with the light of magical clashes, a sudden silence enveloping her, making her heart beat rapidly in that stillness. She hopes with all her heart that they still have time, feeling the cold wind blowing slowly carrying the scent of wet earth that awakens memories.

  Time to endure. Time to fight, a time that feels increasingly tight like a breath that is gasping towards the end, filled with tension that envelops all around.

  Because as long as there is one soul that has not surrendered, this battle is not over, and that hope shines like a star that never fades in the darkest night.

  Fitran continues to stand firm, his Voidlight sword still gleaming, its light reflecting the roar of war around him, his eyes burning with fierce determination, as if the flame from within him has transformed into a light of hope. Every heartbeat sounds like a war drum, preparing himself to face the next inevitable wave.

  The struggle against the world devourer has just begun, and he feels the ground beneath his feet tremble, as if the wave of energy is helping to strengthen his steps to move forward.