A slash of black light cut between the four. A streak of gold speared from the far end. They met. Then both vanished.

The collision of those vast forces sent a blast toward them.

All four stood like stone pillars; only their hair streamed toward the impact’s path.

“Not bad.” Bernice tilted her mouth, disdain aimed at the pair across.

“Flapping your lips? Anyone can,” Edlyn scoffed. Her eyes snapped wide. Another black streak knifed for Bernice’s face.

Akenachel drew a slender blade from her robe. Her wrist flipped, scattering the surging demonic qi.

Then Akenachel thrust at the Demon King and the Hero both.

Eli’s eyes opened—one black, one white, stark as river and silt parted. Four disks whirled behind his back.

He raised a hand. Two disks slid up, catching Akenachel’s blade.

Eli tipped his right eye toward Edlyn. “Wife, that one’s yours, yeah?”

“Of course.” Edlyn’s right hand turned claw-black. In a blink she flashed to Bernice, her claws cinched around the woman’s throat.

Bernice smiled, eyes crinkling, letting the grip land.

She laughed. “Abyss energy? I’ve danced with it daily for centuries. You think this wins? Demonic Lord, aren’t you a bit naive?”

“Pitiful. After all these years, no growth. Last time you were under the Hero’s blade, wasn’t that—”

Edlyn hauled her up. Black radiance swallowed the chatter whole.

“Talk less,” Edlyn sneered.

She sprang and dove into the black corridor she’d opened.

Eli looked at Akenachel. “Well then. Just us now.”

“You think that gives you a chance? With the Celestial God’s mind behind me, I’m the continent’s undefeated blade,” Akenachel said, proud as noon sun.

Eli held Tias in his left hand and laughed softly. “Cut the chatter. Let’s speak with our hands.”

In the next instant, Akenachel vanished.

Eli glanced skyward and vanished too.

A blue flare and a golden blaze slammed together in the clouds.

They split apart.

Clang!

A long heartbeat later, a shriek of metal screamed from where they had stood.

“Light, annihilate my foe! Devour him! Stars Fall!” Akenachel slipped past a holy light bolt, lifted her left hand, and rain—pure gold—poured downward.

Eli set Tias across his chest. He summoned a disk and drove it toward Akenachel.

The disk wove through the golden downpour and arrowed for her.

Tias shed rich gold, wrapping Eli in its glow.

Akenachel held her casting. The sky blazed with light-rain. She didn’t see the disk slicing in.

When the threat touched her senses, she spent everything to slide aside in that single breath.

The disk grazed her cheek and flew on.

Her rain of light faltered and stopped.

Eli’s eyeless eyes fixed on the Angel hanging in air.

He flicked Tias, settled the blade after that heavy knock, spun a flower of steel, and lunged.

“Damn it—Judgment!” Akenachel raised her angel greatsword, then saw four disks rip from different angles and streak toward her.

She abandoned the summon and swept the disks away with her blade.

In that slice of time, Eli was already there.

She let the greatsword fall, lifted both arms, and cried, “My Lord! Grant strength to shield Your servant! Barrier of Light!”

Eli flashed to her face, lifted his sword one-handed, and struck at the Angel wrapped in radiance.

Inside the barrier, Akenachel stared up at him, teeth bared. “Give up, Hero. The Holy Sword shares its source with Light. Brute force won’t break it.”

“You angels really can’t stop talking.” Eli brought Tias down.

She glared, unblinking.

Tias crashed against the Barrier of Light. The surrounding glow shattered into shards.

But Tias couldn’t split it.

The impact kicked back like a tidal wall and flipped Eli head over heels.

As Akenachel’s smile began to rise, Eli’s right hand whipped a rustic sword with a pale-blue body from behind his back. He rode the flip and cut from the other side.

This time, the pale-blue blade didn’t halt. It cleaved with effortless ruin, opened the Barrier of Light, and in Akenachel’s stunned breath Eli tilted the point to rest beneath her chin.

“Angel. You lost.”

“…Not that simple. I admit it—you’re strong,” Akenachel sighed. “Tell me this sword. Sharper than the Holy Sword Tias. Steadier than the Demon Sword Ashill.”

Eli held the silence a beat, then smiled. “Of course. It’s mine. Not the Hero’s, not the Demon King’s. It belongs to me—Eli Aestor’s Holy Sword.”

“…Its name?”

“Qianyu.” His smile curved with a hint of sorrow.

“Damn it, she really can dodge.” Bernice hid in black fog, irked by surges of demonic qi that kept slamming in.

Every time she tried to settle and slip into her greatest lifeline in the Abyss—Dark Abyss mode—Edlyn found the opening and slapped her.

“So vile. Fitting for a Demon King?” Bernice’s laugh was cold.

“You only get to be mouthy right now,” Edlyn answered from the dark, a soft, cruel chuckle riding her words.

Bernice closed her eyes. A holy Angel appointed by the Celestial God, she had methods by the hundred. Edlyn kept her pressed tight. Nothing to show.

“Looks like there’s only one way,” Bernice murmured after a slow breath.

She brought her hands together, reverent as a temple-borne believer.

Edlyn frowned. This shift wasn’t the same mode as before.

That sliver of time was enough. Bernice opened her eyes again. The contempt and mockery were gone. In their place—solemn poise and command.

White wings unfurled wide behind her, and the black fog near her scattered like torn cloud.

Edlyn’s brow tightened. She drew the Demon Sword Ashill. Two avatars of demonic qi surged ahead.

Bernice’s gaze skimmed over the avatars. She clenched air and pulled a greatsword into her grip.

“Holy Angel Bernice, returning to My Lord!” She sank to one knee, ignoring the two avatars barreling in.

A beam dropped from the sky and wrapped her. The surge blasted the encircling avatars back. They came apart and faded.

Edlyn laughed. “Ah, that’s the Hero’s power, isn’t it? Come on, you rancid hag. Show me. The last fool who played holy light with me? He listens when I speak now.”

“I bear a duty equal to the Hero—to purge your filth!” Bernice rose into the air. No more rags—silver-white armor flowed with light across her frame.

She set her helmet. Her aura turned, utterly different.

Edlyn blinked, then something clicked. She smiled. “So that’s why you kept dodging your true form. All the feelings you’ve piled up get erased in this moment.”

She shrugged. “Born as weapons. In a way, you truly are pitiful.”

“Demon King, spare the talk. Die!”

“You think you deserve it?”

“Qianyu? The name sounds strange. Doesn’t feel like it’s from here,” Akenachel frowned.

“It’s from the Far East. A fool’s name. You just aren’t used to it.”

“Far… East?” The word landed foreign on her tongue.

Eli smiled, mild and distant. “As expected, Li Gongxuan was right. Once the secret realm closes, everything goes back to the start.”

“Hero, didn’t think you were this good at nudging minds,” Akenachel sneered. “Not bad. Worth a reward.”

“Your jokes are nasty,” Eli shrugged. “Now pick. Hand over your body, or I beat you till you hand it over.”

She looked at the edge at her chin and shook her head, smiling. “Been a while since a proper fight. Thank you.”

“Mm?”

“But—”

“What—?!” Eli slipped away in a blink.

Akenachel appeared behind him with two angel greatswords. She and the Akenachel in front carved his decoy into three neat pieces.

Not far off, Eli glanced at the cut on his left forearm, puzzled. He eyed the two Akenachels. “Impressive. To ambush me, you even ditched your elemental body.”

“Of course. Against you, ordinary elements are useless.” Akenachel tilted her head and smiled.

“Then, Mr. Hero—Round Two. Begin.”