“Heh, heh, heh...” Birand floated, shattered chains whirling around him like a storm of iron. His eyes veiled red, a blood-tide drowning calm.

Power swelled over him again, heavy as thunderheads shouldering a mountain.

“Is that all you’ve got?!” Birand swept both hands. Chains streaked toward everyone, hissing like vipers.

The masked man drew twin blades and lunged. He barely stopped a longer chain, steel screaming against steel.

His hands trembled. Fear hit first, then pain—his palms split and bled like torn riverbanks. He gulped hard, wary as prey.

“Damn... is this even human?”

Birand sneered. A storm of chains flew at the crowd, a steel monsoon relentless and cold.

Block one, block ten—useless. Death still kept walking.

The masked man’s radiance of the laws dimmed to embers. The blind one had no way left. His face turned clay-pale.

No, something’s wrong. Is the Spirit-Sealing Array flawed? Did we miss a step?

Why could he get out?

The masked man lifted his head. Blood lines mapped his face, a cracked mask under rain.

“Afraid now?” Birand’s voice cut like winter.

Yulia traced a slow circle before her. A pure energy cocoon wrapped everyone, clear as spring water.

Birand frowned. “Damn it. Worthy of a Celestial God—you can do anything, huh?”

“At least I can stop you. That’s far enough, wraith. Go where you belong. Sleep.” Yulia’s tone stayed cool, moonlight on ice.

Birand squinted, then laughed. “Wraith? Yes, I’m a wraith. You shattered everything I ever had. And now you tell me to rest? Hah.”

The masked man’s hands still throbbed; even his grip failed like wet bark. The masked girl watched, tight as a drawn bow.

He gave her a calm look first, then bowed his head. He bit down, and pale-blue power streamed out, pooling in his hands like sky-water.

“Ah... Sorry to trouble you,” he whispered to the wind. “This is the last time.”

Edlyn felt a gentle strength gather from the world itself, drifting toward the masked man like drifting pollen.

“What... is this?” The sudden flood of natural elements soothed her, a breeze after rain.

She felt like floating, cloud-light, sky-close.

“Wind element?” Edlyn hesitated, unsure, tasting doubt like salt.

It matched the wind she used to fly. Yet beneath that softness, something hidden coiled like roots.

Birand flicked a surprised glance. “Spirit of the Elements. Unexpected. Shame your base power’s thin. Or you’d actually bother me.”

He fought Yulia, and that glance was already his limit.

“I swore a venomous oath, staked my whole soul. I clawed out of the Inferno, crawled from the Netherworld—was it just for you to lay me to rest?” Birand’s eyes locked to Yulia.

Yulia frowned, a shadow under her lashes. “I told you. It’s balance the world needs. It can’t be drawn back. Unless you... No. There’s no unless.”

“What’s that to me?” Birand lifted his chin, shut his eyes, and drew breath like a swimmer before a deep dive. “Then you pay the price.”

“Over my dead body!” Yulia hurled layered sigils, seals flying like constellations.

The masked man surged up. Gentle wind cradled him, placing him before Birand like a leaf before a blade.

He gasped hard, lungs burning, the climb steep as cliffs.

“What—!” Birand’s eyes flared. He blasted the masked man away, force buckling air like hammered bronze.

He shaped a sword in his left hand and rushed for the River of Life, a hawk arrowing down.

Angels, blessed by the Celestial God, charged out together, staking their lives like torches in snow.

“Out of my way!” Birand swung. One cut drove back six blessed Angels, scattering them like petals.

In that heartbeat of delay, Yulia’s support landed. A light-beam slammed into Birand’s back, a sun-spear.

“Rest, wraith. No matter your power, you can’t defy the rule. I’ll learn who loosed you from the Netherworld. For now, return to your grave.” Yulia pressed her palms, prayer tight as folded wings.

Behind her, space opened like a dark flower, as when Eli called the Abyss.

Eyes bloomed behind Yulia. No bloodlust, no frenzy—only beauty that steals breath and peace that stills storms.

Those clear eyes fixed on Birand, twin moons on a cold river.

Birand staggered as if struck in the soul. He grunted and fell from the sky, heavy as rain.

“No... ugh... hahaha, long time no see, your true body... but... what’s the use... My revenge won’t stop...” Birand stared at the eyes hanging in the air.

“You’re already not my match. Without the laws, you—”

Yulia’s gaze stayed distant. “Too bad. That’s not on the table.”

Pressure mounted from those eyes, a tidal weight. Birand’s energy boiled, a cauldron roaring.

He howled long and forced himself upright, a pine in gale.

Limbs began to unravel like ropes fraying. He crashed again, bones gravel-hard.

The masked man, hands healed, sighed. A magic circle spun behind him, lines like frost. Chains slid out in slow flight.

Birand watched the chains, stared at the masked man’s face, then smiled oddly, a crooked crescent. “Hahaha. Heaven leaves a path after all. I see. I see. Hahaha.”

Yulia looked at Birand, puzzled, brows knitting. “Hero, why laugh? It’s time to end this.”

“Hahaha...” Birand laughed in pain, dragging his broken body toward the River of Life, inching like a wounded wolf.

The masked man’s chains seized, midair stilled like ice.

Yulia sighed, rare and soft. “He won’t reach the River of Life. He’ll fade soon.”

The masked man nodded and stepped aside, shadow-quiet.

Edlyn watched Birand’s ruin and exhaled, a reed bending. “So... that’s his end too?”

Birand stared at his dissolving right hand. He clenched, knuckles white as snow. “No. Not yet.”

He looked at Thias, tossed aside earlier, and smiled, torn as dusk. “I’m sorry... I’m sorry.”

Everyone sighed. Under the Celestial God’s true gaze, hearts settled like dust after rain.

Thias’s light dimmed. Birand reached and held Thias close, cradling steel like a child.

Yulia blinked, then blurted, “No!”

She thrust both hands. Vast force rushed at Birand, a flood breaking banks.

“Impossible... Thias actually...” Yulia’s shock bit deep, a cold bite.

“Too late!” Birand’s body turned solid, no longer an energy wraith, a man reborn from ashes.

His eyes lost color, then filled with madness and cruelty, wolves in winter.

He swept Yulia’s energy aside, a sleeve wiping ink.

A great gale tore outward, flinging those nearest like leaves in storm.

Birand rose into the air and lifted his gaze to the endless star river, night wide as oceans.

Edlyn startled, tugging Akenachel’s hem. “What’s he doing?”

Cold sweat soaked the assassin’s edge-trim. His eyes went blank, mind frostbitten.

A suffocating killing intent smothered everyone, ash-cloud thick.

Birand drew Thias from his own body, blade sliding like moonlight.

Cracks raced along Thias’s sword, frost-lines. Cracks climbed Birand’s flesh, spiderweb thin.

Thias shone again, a dawn so bright it suppressed Yulia’s avatar like the sun drowns candles.

The masked man gritted his teeth. He pulled the masked girl close and shielded her, a roof in hail.

They didn’t see—had no time to see—an old man appear at the Gate of the First Heaven.

Birand straightened his left arm and pressed Thias down, anchoring lightning.

Madness filled his eyes, storm-dark. “If I can’t change anything, then I’ll remake it all.”

“Oblivion... Dawn!”

Thias swung up from below. A vast sword-light washed over everyone, a tide of stars.

In the unseen, all seemed to hear it—snap. A taut long string broke.

After that cut, Birand faded, bit by bit, smoke thinning.

Thias shattered, fragments raining like cold petals.

The floor of the Celestial Realm split. Black and white ghost hands clawed up, a countless grasping forest reaching for Birand’s sky-hung shape.

Birand looked at the crowd gone faint and smiled, calm as night rain.

“I won’t stop. Not unless this world no longer holds me. Hahaha. Edward, the rest is your show, isn’t it? Hahaha. I know—you won’t let me disappear like this.”

Birand laughed, staring into the far distance, horizon like a blade.

Sadly, the rest lay unseen to her, unknown as tomorrow.

Akenachel blacked out. In Akenachel’s last line of sight, Edlyn felt a blazing white light devour her, sunfire closing.

Her senses fell away—hearing, sight, all gone, a hush of snow.

Besides the masked man, she was the closest. She met Birand’s full aura head-on, like a wave swallowing a boat.

Edlyn fell quiet inside. Poor child—how could this not break you?

Yet curiosity tugged like a fishhook. What does that one cut do? It can’t be just wounds.

Sadly, for now, she had no way to know.