Part 8 –

 

Haiyoto watched the blue flame eradicate the piling Undead as the red world suddenly glowed blue. A beacon of hope was lit before his eyes as they sparkled with relief.

“A-Amy –! You crazy son of a –! Incredible… you’re incredible!” He gleefully spouted as he began to pick up speed during his descent.

He didn’t exactly have a plan in mind to break his fall. But anything was better than nothing. Using [Physical Barriers], he created a concentrated shield around his feet in hopes of landing along the slanted roof tiles beneath. But that alone wouldn’t save his life. He needed to time his [Dash] with the very moment his foot touched the roof. If he was lucky, he’d only lose one of his legs.

[Dash] could not be activated if he was not in contact with a solid surface. He needed to be able to propel himself to use his instantaneous movement. If he had something to use a footstool, then he was certain he’d be able to break his fall.

However, he didn’t need any of this.

After all – he wasn’t alone in this fight.

“Vevi! Khalis! You two –!”

A green strand suddenly found itself attached to his waist. It snapped taught the instant it dragged him along to the side like a giant, horizontal swing. At the other end of the green strand was none other than Vevi, and with her a Khalis that held onto the strand for dear life.

“HOLD ON TIGHT HAIYOTOOOOOOO!” He could only just faintly hear Khalis’ voice.

Vevi’s strength was not enough to move Haiyoto. Khalis on the other hand was able to swing him around. The immense length of the rope only increased Haiyoto’s horizontal speed as he was eased to the roofs, the air rampaging all around him. The [Physical Barriers] came in handy, acting as a board as he rode over the tiles, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake as he flew from roof to roof at an incredible speed.

“Humans designed to protect.

Humans destined to combat the extraordinary.

Humans fated to bear the symbol of hope.

Humans of the end, brought forth to a new beginning.

Haiyoto! Look at what’s being written down right now!”

Vevi’s voice interjected in his mind as he broke into a brilliant smile. Khalis swung him around, twisting on his heels so heavily that his ankles had drilled downwards into the ground. A green afterimage of a halo hung over them.

“DON’T UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF THE HUMAN SPIRIT! WE’RE ENTRUSTING IT ALL ONTO YOU, HEROOOOOOOOOOO!” Khalis roared hoarsely.

With a mighty heave, Haiyoto was sent straight back into the direction of the Undead. At about halfway the strand was cut, leaving him to ride his [Physical Barrier] with the rest of his immense momentum.

The Undead Brute cupped its face, unable to repair the fleshy face that had yet to be tainted. It never ceased its hideous wails, its bony offshoot of miniature hands flailing in presumed anguish. A hand was suddenly raised and sent down to crush the quickly approaching Haiyoto.

He threw himself onto a neighbouring roof, using [Dash] before he moved from roof to roof as the open palm came crashing down and instantly flattened his previous position. With its hand so close and vulnerable now, Haiyoto lunged straight towards it with a roar of his own.

The battle was far from ideal for him. Undead were naturally resistant to slash attacks – the only kind of damage Haiyoto was able to inflict. His mana capacity boasted incredible promise, but his talent heavily lacked on the magic side. Although, when it came to magic that directly affected him physically, like [Dash] and [Body Enhancing] magic, then he was among the strongest.

While its legs were made primarily of muscle – the Brute’s arms were almost entire constructed of ridged bone. He was expected to cleave apart what amounted to a boulder with only a blade in hand. It was doubtful his swords were even capable of inflicting damage at all.

But he never doubted himself, for his body urged him to follow through with the attack. Unsurprisingly, he had a means to counteract the weakness of his blade.

[Fortitude – Limeite Skin]. A [Sixth Tiered] magic normally used on oneself as the ultimate defence-buffing magic. It was powerful enough to allow one to resist a single slash from most weapons. Depending on the damage taken, the magic could last for as long as an entire day.

However, what Haiyoto used was a [Seventh Tier] version of his own. [Absolute Fortitude – Tungsten Skin]. It was said that tungsten possessed the benefits of being a highly magical resistant metal like Carbodix while also forsaking its immense weight. Magic up to the [Third Tier] could not affect it. Furthermore, it was a highly sought-after mineral for heating elements and certain instruments as an alternative to limeite, for it did not require mana to harvest its true potential.

It was the in between metal between carbodix and limeite. Even in this world tungsten reigned supreme. But that did not mean it was the strongest. Even steel surpassed it as a metal for weapons.

Furthermore, other metals existed, some hundreds – if not thousands – of times stronger than tungsten – like the legendary Maiden’s Metal, created by the dried, crystalised blood of a Maiden.

These obviously did not exist since the Maidens existed only in their Domains, hence why it was considered a legend.

That aside – [Absolute Fortitude – Tungsten Skin] was the reason why Haiyoto was able to withstand the overbearing heat like it was nothing.

But what did this have to do with anything?

Interestingly, Haiyoto could also imbue objects with magic normally only able to affect one’s body.

Indeed – He casted [Absolute Fortitude – Tungsten Skin] over his broadswords. A sudden dull coat of metal washed over his blades, a steady aura of mana emanating from them like flames.

He had confidence in the edge of his swords. But not their durability.

I only have one shot with this! Don’t lose your grip or you’ll fly off!

Once Haiyoto was a metre away, he plunged both blades into its bony arm. Anchored now against it, he pried them in one direction, and, with a single breath, he activated [Dash] in both his body and in the blades.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHH!” Haiyoro howled.

With speed came power, and his speed far surpassed twice that of sound. He spun with his blades, cleaving through the entire arm in a circular motion. After a single rotation, his blades had cut through and he was flung towards its other arm.

He moved like a spider, using his blades like another limb as he etched his blades into it again, then suddenly [Dashing] straight up towards the gaping cavity where he slashed away the fleshy face, moving like a spectre as all that was left was his afterimage and a mist of ruptured air.

His body was wracked with agony having never moved like this before.

This insect was undoubtably a nuisance. Nowhere near a threat, but he could sense that the Undead was humiliated as it screeched, clasping at the cavity where hundreds of rows of teeth laid. He floated high in mid-air, falling again. The Brute tilted its body back in an attempt to devour him in a single gulp. But then – another strand was sent save him.

He was dragged out just before the cavity snapped shut like that of a venus fly trap. Haiyoto was assaulted with nausea, made worse by the ear-splitting sound of the Brute’s snapped maw. Blood trickled out of his earlobes as he slid along the roofs once again.

The Brute has no weaknesses at all. Raw strength is absolutely a better matchup against it. But you’d also need to be monster. I can only keep hacking away to keep it put until… Until what? Can I get Amy to incinerate it? That’d be impossible. She’s fighting her own battle right now. The same with Anoma. Those flashing lights are no joke. Just having them appear in the corner of my eye blinds me for a few seconds.

What else can I do? Its limbs are too thick. Not to mention its regeneration is also something out of a broken raid boss. My only chance is to keep it incapacitated for as long as possible.

Where did you go Phase!?

* * *

Heroes were still human. And humans, including the humanoid races, were vastly inferior to the might of the superior races beyond the lands claimed by their civilisations. The proof was in the bloodshed that unfolded within the walls of Palvel.

Anoma didn’t fair any better than Haiyoto. It was a one-sided massacre in favour of their Undead nemesis. The beast they faced was invisible as far as they could tell. In the maze of ruins, her group had already suffered a casualty. Before their battle with the unknown Undead, one of the accompanying White Knights lost their head in a single fell swoop. It was claimed by an immense gust of air, powerful enough to nearly knock them cleanly off their feet.

Its speed was inconceivable, hence why they believed it to be invisible. Anoma, Ectarod and a female adventurer ill equipped to face off against this threat spread themselves thin, but always ensured they were within sight of Anoma’s glowing blade.

“RIGHT HERE!” The female adventure exclaimed, holding onto her witch’s hat as the brick wall just inches away from her exploded with tremendous force.

An instant barrage of [Fireballs] and other [Fire] based magic was hurled into the ruins. The woman jumped back, unleashing a barrage of flames where the Undead attacked. At the same time, she glued herself to another run-down wall, never allowing herself to move an inch away.

Ectarod swung into battle immediately afterwards, swinging down his great sword in a fantastic arc. The dust was instantly dispersed into the air, creating a smoke screen before he lunged away, noticing another gust of wind suddenly passing by just where he stood.

“A monster in every sense of the word.” He muttered, a bead of sweat dripping down his face. A visor was no longer mandatory against the beast that penetrated through all regardless of defence. With its sheer power it could easily break through his [Fortitude – Limeite Skin] as if it were nothing.

Each sudden strike of the Undead was a recipe for instant death.

“How is that sword holding through!?” He called out to Anoma, right as a surge of immense light consumed their world.

“The light hasn’t gotten weak yet! But it’s running low on mana! Hundreds of people worth of mana went into powering this blade and it’s already on the verge of breaking!” She lashed out in frustration, waving the blade over her head like a beacon.

The intense [Light] magic it emitted could vaporise lesser Undead from mere sight alone. But its use was severely limited. At maximum capacity the blade could only activate around 10 of these before the limeite ran out of mana. It was her trump card – a blade designed to strike the Undead like a holy smite.

However – no matter how strong it was – it could only temporarily blind their Undead foe. Ever since she began the illumination their battlefield, the beast’s accuracy had considerably dropped. Its attacks were near random, striking down at the structures until only ruins remained, and from those ruins, it became a landscape of rubble.

Only a handful of cover remained in this vast hellscape, hardly enough for the three to move without exposing themselves out in the open.

“Don’t stop moving! The longer we can keep it here the better!” Anoma instructed. “We can’t give up!”

“There’s only so much more cover we can move to!” The woman cried, her legs sifting through the rubble as she ran. Her legs were both completely scraped from their skin from the knee down, her long dress ripped to shreds.

“Retreat is not an option! There is no one else capable of slaying this Undead! We risk losing everyone at the tower if we let this one go through!” Ectarod relayed their greatest fear as he erected stationary [Fire Orbs] behind him, laying them down like a trap for the Undead. “A King cannot abandon those under him!”

“It’s not like we could retreat if we wanted to. There’s no telling if it’ll give chase or head straight for the tower.” Anoma seethed, panting as she laid down [Fire Whips] like tripwires along the ruins.

The intact buildings that formed a wall around their battlefield were encased in similar strands. Seeing that they were still untouched meant that they Undead had yet to abandon them as prey.

Their chances of a direct confrontation were non-existent to the least. Ectarod was the only one who defied this, throwing his body into the fray at every given chance, yearning to slay it in one fell swoop.

But he was wasting energy. The old warrior grew desperate, his worries laying not in his dwindling stamina or his brave companions, but for the people that remained within the tower.

“WHERE DID I GO WRONG IN MY LIFE TO END UP HERE!?” The woman shrieked as she built [Stone Barriers] to make up for the lack of cover. The walls were constructed as she ran from ruin to ruin, her screaming both in equal parts of fear and the pain of her blood-drenched legs.

Everyone’s losing their minds. Tch. King Ectarod’s squirming now that we’re backed into a corner. To think there’s seven others crawling in Palvel. If the other groups stumbled upon one of these then…

Anoma clasped onto the handle of her blade with both hands, her body following the direction of its tip as she released yet another explosion of light into the air. As the user her vision remained uninterrupted, allowing her to freely move from wall to wall as the creature charged into the fray, demolishing everything it touched.

It easily dragged the [Fire Whips] with it, taking down even more structures as their laid traps were set off with minimal effect. It seemed like no matter what they did the Undead would simply shrug it off.

How was it possible to fight against a monster like this?

I’ve seen plenty Undead before, but this is on an entirely different scale. Undead were cunning creatures. Small. Large in numbers, and mostly slow. It feels like we’re up against something else entirely. Is this its own knowledge, or is this by the direct command of the Necromancer?

If I knew my efforts would lead to this, then I… Tch.

What would have I done differently!?

Anoma fought with herself as guilt wrecked her mind. The woman who climbed the ladder of politics, power and even royalty was utterly powerless in the face of inevitable destruction. Her trust in the Overlord of Desire had all but disappeared at this point, for she no longer knew if Truebirth would even be safe after whatever happened here in Palvel.

A creature like this could singlehandedly cripple their entire city. For eight of them to exist only promised destruction beyond Palvel. Anoma danced along the battlefield, her footing always perfect no matter the terrain as the other two dodged the invisible enemy at all costs. The cries of the girl, the roars of Ectarod – and the rapid drumming of her heart were louder than the cracks of thunder left by their foe.

Suddenly, just after releasing another burst of light –

A familiar wave of pressure caused her blood to instantly freeze.

That’s –! The [Curse of Desire]!? What are you planning to do now!?

Her eyes searched for the two along the rubble as Palvel suddenly fell silent. It was as if the entire city had fallen asleep. There, in the corner of her eye, she spotted Ectarod’s laying body and instantly rushed to his aid.

“Does Desire want to kill us all!?” She yelled, hoisting him over her shoulder. Moments after she ran, the structure behind her was struck by the Undead. Her answer came to her in that very moment, and she lamented her efforts that brought them all to this nightmare.

Eventually, she came across the heavily injured body of their female companion. A weak, brittle mage with a heart like gold. Her small frame was smothered by brickwork, her body so bloodied that it was a surprise that she had enough blood still left inside of her.

Anoma, boasting enormous strength thanks to her [Body Strengthening] magic, was able to carry the two to the only remaining ruin standing in their barren battlefield. A massive cloud of dust hovered in the air. She was limited to only 20 metres of muddied vision, unable to see the wall of surrounding buildings, never mind the tower.

It was aiming for this, wasn’t it? To snuff out the light with as much dust as possible. That can’t come from an Undead… either way – my sword doesn’t have enough mana anymore. It’s dulled.

The two bodies plopped heavily beneath her legs. She had reached the end of the line. Seeing that the two hadn’t woken up despite the fall, she knew it would be a wasted effort trying to wake them up.

Perhaps it was for the best that they slept. At least they would be stuck in a dream rather than this nightmare.

But even so – Anoma didn’t surrender herself. She held out her blade in the only direction where the sifting of material arrived. Crunches in the form of footsteps marked the approach of their foe.

Is it taunting me?

The silhouette of a beast emerged, suddenly stopping just at the very edge of perception. Its form was an incomprehensible mess, changing wildly like a shadow, though she knew that underneath the veil of particles laid a true monster.

It remained completely still as Anoma prepared for the worst. She expected it to pounce at her at any given moment, but it strangely remained there for some time until a disgusting voice suddenly spoke out to her.

“Ah. The Failed apostle.”

From the voice alone she was able to vividly picture the grotesque body it belonged to. Purely by the voice alone she knew it wasn’t the beast itself that spoke.

The Necromancer spoke directly through the Undead. [Amplify] would be the first mistake one could make when trying to identify the magic. A form of [Telepathy] would be their last.

The Undead did not use magic, after all. As manaless beings, what they used could not be called magic.

Intelligent Undead were capable of commanding Undead created either directly by them or by those already under their order. The connection could be compared to a metaphysical synapse like how the Fungal Kingdoms of Vevillen functioned, albeit to an extremely weakened degree.

Multiple intelligent Undead were unable to assimilate into a single group, even if one leader consumed another. All Undead must come from a singular source in order to become an Undead legion.

Though that did not mean strays couldn’t be controlled. The greater the disparity in ranking and power between the Undead were, the stronger one’s control over the other was.

That is to say; intelligent-levelled Undead like the Necromancer were extremely rare. So rare in fact that there were only seven known intelligent Undead, excluding the Uboros.

Undead that weren’t under the influence of a chain of command were referred to with the ‘feral’ prefix.

Anoma’s senses numbed in his presence. Its diabolical weight chained her down to where she stood. Anoma was strong – among the strongest in all of Colight and most humans beyond its borders. Her swordsmanship was unmatched, her speed and technique years ahead of any prodigy. But she was also not as naïve to ignore the overwhelming power difference between a human and a true monster.

“Or should I say Queen. Former Queen? No, that would imply you’d be allowed to live. A potent soul like yours would make for an excellent addition to our reservoir. You should be grovelling. Revering beneath us with those pitiful insects. Oh how merciful Lady Desire is to have allowed a failure like you to live. To allow this lowly being like me to spare an even lower dog – is her generosity not enough for you!?”

We were being spared? After all that…? I don’t believe it. One wrong step and it was would have been over for us.

Was it playing with us the entire time? Was it never blinded!?

The dull, limeite blade in her hands lowered after this realisation.

“Bahahaha! Those eyes reek with despair! Have you not noticed it!? What is a candle-fire to the supreme might of the Undead!? Humans are too easy to manipulate. The foolish humanoid races are better served under the banner of the superior Undead race! Look at this devastation brought upon this city’s resistance! But I – a benevolent being of Her direct order – will commend you, dog. You delivered of the last remaining souls to feed the Well of Wishes. Oh the Well of Wishes! Does its celestial existence not exude a presence worthy of being worshiped!?”

The Well of Wishes… It– It consumes souls...!?

This shocked her more than her body was willing to admit. By consuming one’s soul it meant that it was forever destroyed, permanently removed from the cycle of the world. When a being died their soul was taken by the Gods of the region where the death occurred. The soul was then extracted of its mana, and then reused for another living creature. It was said that a fragment of their past lives still existed within that soul – a certain Will.

It was no surprise that the soul was considered a sanctity of the highest order. Frostbitten Reapers were amongst the most fear beings to have ever existed because of their very nature that allowed them to devour souls with hunger than the greediest of Gods.

If Anoma couldn’t forgive herself before, then how was she supposed to atone now? Her blade lowered further, now only held at half-way.

“Was it not despair…?” Anoma inadvertently whispered to herself in utter disbelief. “We were brought here to supply despair for the ‘calamity’. To bear witness in this staging ground. I was… lied to in the end.” Anoma’s grip loosened; the toll of the realisation far too heavy for her to shoulder alone.

“The threshold for despair was acquired weeks ago. How generous of her to keep you uneducated. Had you known better even a loyal pet of Lady Desire like yourself would have betrayed her. But fate works in favour of the supreme beings! Else – you would not be here, would you!?” A gurgled laugher followed as her face darkened, now partially hidden behind her drooped hair.

“We were no more than fodder. I understood that from the beginning. But their souls…? What does Desire want in the end?” She trembled, unable to draw a definite conclusion amongst the vague answers she had been willingly led with.
Anoma was willing to sacrifice thousands for the sake of Truebirth’s protection. Thousands more had died along the 20 years she spent rising to the summit where she stood; the Queen of Truebirth and the master of its Adventurer’s Guild. It was unforgivable that only now did she seem to lament over their deaths. But that was not to say that these emotions suddenly surged just now. For the last 20 years in Katho and Colight – Anoma had not once taken anything for granted.

She had always bemoaned the inconspicuous lives she had claimed, for they were as innocent and unknowing as she ever was. Anoma was a woman pure to her desire, her quest to protect her home no matter the cost.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t regret. In hindsight, it felt like it was all just a self-fulfilling prophecy. Would have anything changed if she refused Desire’s offer?

Was Truebirth and Pathfist truly safe knowing now of the false promises?

What were these promises one would wonder.

Help.

It was help.

Nothing else. Only help.

That’s all I ever wanted. Help. People strong enough to continue protecting what I won’t be able to afterwards. People who also cherish our homes like all of us living here.

What she sought was help in the form of the Heroes, and most of all, the Exrenity who had sworn to come to their aid in the eleventh hour. Because at the end of it all, Anoma knew that she wouldn’t be able to protect her home after her service ended with Desire. Her hopes laid in these people.

However – the Heroes were cowardly. Reluctant. Laughably inadept. The Otherworlders were from a world of relative peace, and Lizen was from a renowned family closed behind the safety of their walled gardens. The Heroes which were supposedly the pinnacle of mankind were no more than unreliable children.

Then there was Exrite.

Exrite – a name she had come to loathe – was the greatest insult of all. Just recalling his face caused her blood to flash-boil, her grip tightening around her blade as she bared her fangs unexpectedly in the face of immense death.

A weakling of a man possessing laughable mana capacity was the person who Desire promised would protect them. Through zero merit, zero strength and zero connection to the place she called home – Exrite was bestowed the title of Exrenity.

And more than that – as her feet suddenly sunk into the cracked stone – he was given the power of the Maiden of Time.

“I am a generous man, soon to be God above the Uboros and all the so-called Divinity of our putrid world. Allowing you to bear witness to my transformation without the context would only leave you scratching the flees from your scalp. Her Well of Wishes is exactly what its name so gracefully boasts. It can grant the wish of only those chosen. My wish to stand above all, and you were all invited here to witness the dawn of a new era – ruled by my absolute command!”

“A wish? Your wish?” Anoma’s voice nearly cracked; her fervour felt in every word. “What a sick joke. Wishing for a power instead of dedicating yourself to it. You don’t even realise what you’ve become. Our devastation? Caused by us? You must be blind.”

“Y-YOUR MOUTH! SHUT IT UP! What does an insignificant worm like you know about the wishes of Lady Desire, you failed apostle!?” Anoma struck a volatile string, the Necromancer’s tone instantly shifting to a deranged screech.

“You call me failed, but if you’re standing there begging for a wish to be granted then what does that say about you?” Anoma’s spirt would not allow her to speak like she was below that thing.

Knowing that Desire wished for her to live; there was no point in keeping her head down like a beaten dog.

“Like you, I’ve been strung along like a fool. But Desire would be a complete moron to allow your wish to be granted. What makes you trust that you’re not just some tool like I am!?” Anoma words felt like a dagger had been plunged straight into his chest.

“Sow! It is inconceivable that Desire would defile Her appointed apostle! You – I will shut you up! If it is death you wish then your cadaver will be mine to command!” He screeched, the Undead trembling in rage.

“Kill me then. Betray Desire’s command.” She taunted, her pride inhibiting her from backing down against it. “If you’re that weak to be tormented enough to kill me, then Desire truly is a moron for choosing you. Like the Maiden of Time, and the Children of Balance for choosing their Heroes and that damning Exrenity! It’s no wonder you were allured by a wish! You’re weaker than the so called Exrenity I know. Hah. Hahahaha… Ah…” Anoma crackled, seemingly losing her mind.

Her heart told her she was going to die soon. A being as unhinged at that thing would not pass this opportunity to end her. The blade was brought back to face-height, split between her eyes as she stared at the hazy figure reel its body in preparation to attack.

“You’ve made your choice. I’ve made mine. Die – worm. Die by the one your world knew as the former king of Di-First, you lowborn peasant of that wretched region. I’ll ensure Truebirth follows the same fate I’ve bestowed upon the old kingdom of the Great Plains. PERISH!”

Anoma grit her teeth one last time before her body relaxed, like she was suddenly relinquished of all burdens she carried alone.

“That’s why I’d rather keep my mouth shut. If I could talk like this to the Heroes, then maybe they would’ve sprung into action sooner. Tch. Aha… Exrite, even that moron Exrenity has the conviction to put in effort despite being so weak in every front.” Anoma muttered to herself, her eyes shrinking. “… and you probably wonder why I was the harshest with you, Exrite. Why I hated your guts so much. I had high expectations for someone with that kind of strength. You pissed me off more than you can imagine.” She lightly laughed. “Ectarod. Brave adventurer – Calin. Talia. Clark. My love – I’m sorry.”

Indeed. The reason why she was incredibly crude with Exrite was because she expected a certain level of competency and strength with the titles he possessed. Her frustration was never derived from jealousy or a wish to become powerful like the Necromancer had. Her struggles to reach the top manifested as combat strength and political weight rivalling most neighbouring kingdoms.

Her status as a Guild Master held more merit than the Queen of Truebirth. From the Undead-infested regions of the Boric Region to the rugged mountain ranges of the Dwarven kingdoms of Plunnerdell, to the incredible city of Enthile spanning hundreds of kilometres, to the bureaucracies of Endo, and to the ravaged lands of Katho – Anoma carried weight in multiple regions through effort alone.

In her strive to achieve the goal of protecting Truebirth under the guise as Desire’s pawn – she had amassed significant power.

But in the end, she was only human. Against a true monster like the Undead standing before her, it was obvious that no matter how powerful one was – the blade of death was ever present in this world.

Exrite was supposedly in a world untouchable by her. For the Gods to expect him to defeat the Maidens was a joke. What did they see inside of him that she didn’t? She didn’t know. Even Exrite was left in the dark.

She exhaled one last time, somehow finding it humorous.

In the end, I’m still clinging onto that hope. That promise made by Desire. For someone to help me protect the place that welcomed me as their own.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this. Exrite. I’m entrusting it onto you now. Don’t let our kingdoms fall.” These were her last words before the Undead disappeared. A clear column of air followed its invisible lunge as she prepared for her imminent death.

Then – the world then turned black.

But her eyes never closed. Something had fallen into her vision from the sky, splitting the ground into hundreds of pieces in an instant. Her head was still attached. Her senses remained intact. The darkness before her was not the cold embrace of death, but rather – it was the back of a person.

Her eyes widened all of a sudden, trembling like shaken dice as she heard the voice of the person she despised more than anyone else in the world.

“Anoma, put your sword down. Get some rest. I don’t want to see the Guild Master that kicked me around looking so grim.” His voice was calm. Abnormally calm. The type where a hidden rage bellowed underneath.

And in his left, metal hand was the needle-like head of the Undead, held like it was no more than a catch of the sea.

The force created a massive shockwave that blasted the dust completely from the ruined landscape, revealing his figure in all its glory.

“Ex…rite?” She couldn’t believe her eyes.

True to his promise – Exrite had arrived at the ‘eleventh hour’. Against all overwhelming odds stacked against her, she was saved at the last possible moment by the least likely saviour.

And for the first time, his back did was not that of the reckless man she knew from months ago.

What stood before her was unquestionably the Exrenity she loathed with all her heart.