The silence weighed heavier than the battle itself.

  There were no more enemies.

  No more screams.

  No more blood, wounds, or explosions.

  Only the faint wind slipping through the cracks of the war-scarred earth, like a late witness arriving to contemplate what remained.

  Eryndor stood before me.

  His gaze was pained.

  His face tense.

  His sacred sword, Sol’Kariel, was raised.

  But it no longer shone.

  The majestic golden light that usually inhabited it seemed to hesitate, as if even it refused to take part at this moment.

  I looked at his hand.

  It was trembling.

  A tiny tremor.

  Almost invisible.

  But I knew him too well not to notice.

  Eryndor Halevar did not tremble before demons.

  He trembled before human decisions.

  Before the doubts they imposed upon him.

  “I’m sorry… It’s an Imperial order,” he repeated.

  His voice was lower now.

  As if saying it a second time made it more real.

  More final.

  More difficult.

  I felt the others behind him.

  Lythera had lowered her gaze.

  Garrick stared at the ground, his jaw clenched.

  Vaelis, however, looked directly at me.

  His expression held neither hatred nor pity.

  Only cold lucidity.

  He had understood before the others.

  Seraphina…

  I turned my head slightly.

  She was still clutching her cross.

  Her lips moved silently.

  A prayer.

  It was meant for me.

  I smiled faintly.

  At least I was granted one final prayer from the Saint.

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  From the woman I loved.

  The decision had already been made.

  I looked back at Eryndor.

  “How long have you known?”

  He hesitated for only a fraction of a second.

  “Before the battle…”

  I nodded slowly.

  Of course.

  The Emperor would never allow an unpredictable variable to survive victory.

  The Demon King was a threat.

  But a Tenth-Circle Archmage…

  Was far worse.

  Silence returned.

  Colder.

  Sharper.

  More precise.

  I stepped forward.

  Eryndor reacted instantly.

  He raised his sword defensively.

  I stopped.

  I was not afraid.

  I only felt respect.

  “You can do it,” I said calmly.

  His breathing faltered.

  “Don’t say that.”

  His voice trembled.

  I looked at him.

  The man who had fought beside me for years.

  The man who had trusted me.

  The man I had saved.

  We had reached the edge of the world together.

  We had survived chaos together.

  And now he had to kill me to rebuild it.

  What irony.

  My strength was fading.

  The Tenth Circle had drained everything.

  I no longer had the power to resist.

  I had never been a warrior.

  I had always been a solution.

  And solutions do not resist.

  I spoke softly.

  “Seraphina.”

  She looked up immediately.

  Her silver-gold eyes trembled.

  “I love you. Thank you… for everything.”

  Her breathing broke.

  She tried to speak.

  But no words came.

  She understood.

  She always had.

  I turned to Lythera.

  “Continue searching for the truth.”

  She blinked in confusion.

  Then nodded slowly.

  “Garrick… protect them.”

  He did not look at me.

  He could not.

  “Vaelis… protect them from the shadows.”

  Vaelis gave a slight nod.

  A farewell.

  I returned my gaze to Eryndor.

  “Do it quickly.”

  His hand tightened.

  “I…”

  He stopped.

  His throat closed.

  I placed my hand on the blade.

  It was warm.

  Alive.

  “It’s an Imperial order,” I said.

  His eyes widened.

  He understood.

  I was freeing him from the burden of choice.

  Turning it into necessity.

  His breathing faltered.

  Then—

  He pushed.

  The blade pierced my heart.

  Clean.

  Precise.

  Final.

  Pain came slowly at first.

  Then it consumed me.

  Like fire spreading through every part of my body.

  My legs gave way.

  I fell to my knees.

  Blood spilled onto the earth.

  I looked at him.

  His eyes were filled with horror.

  Not because of my death—

  But because of what he had done.

  My consciousness began to fade.

  The world blurred.

  Distant.

  Quiet.

  Peaceful.

  I could accept it.

  This ending made sense.

  It was logical.

  It was the natural consequence of my existence.

  But one thought refused to disappear.

  If the world was eliminating me to preserve its balance…

  Then I would correct the world.

  I gathered what remained.

  A fragment of mana.

  Broken.

  Tiny.

  Enough.

  My lips moved.

  A forbidden spell.

  A concept even the Tenth Circle was never meant to contain.

  — Absolute Regression.

  Mana responded.

  But not like before.

  It was fractured.

  Unstable.

  Wrong.

  The world resisted.

  I felt it.

  A will opposing mine.

  Then—

  It broke.

  Reality cracked.

  Time shattered.

  And in that final moment, as my body died and my soul refused to vanish—

  I felt a gaze.

  Ancient.

  Watching.

  And for the first time…

  I did not fall into nothingness.

  The world allowed me to return.