After a brief rumble, Akenachel’s phantasmal world broke like glass, and dizziness surged like a storm tide.

Edlyn blinked, and her mind surfaced back into her own sea of thought.

She caught Akenachel’s lingering fright, frost on her face, and almost laughed like a breeze teasing winter leaves.

What was this? Someone who’d been trading deathblows with her now wilted over a shard of memory like a flower in hail.

Truth be told, fear pricked Edlyn too, a thorn under silk, because she couldn’t feel Birand’s annihilating sword aura the way Akenachel had.

Even a glance had hollowed her courage like wind through ash; in that moment, she’d have been less than dust.

She bent, palm soft as rain, and brushed Akenachel’s hair. “Hey. Don’t be scared. I’ll erase that memory. From now on, you’re my little sister.”

Edlyn smiled sweetly, a lantern lit in night.

Akenachel stared up, a wry crescent on her lips, then nodded like a leaf caught by current.

She couldn’t rewrite her soul, couldn’t seal that shard, because every thread of her belonged to the Celestial God like a vow carved in stone.

Only Edlyn, steeped in Abyssal breath, could drown that echo like ink poured over a seal.

For now, she’d press down the last flicker of the Celestial God’s will, a dying ember under snow.

Merging with a little girl was just a step on a river; she still held cards to turn the tide.

Thinking so, Akenachel sighed like wind leaving a bell, then dissolved into a golden sphere that floated into Edlyn’s hand like a firefly.

The mental world cracked, a mirror under frost, and everything faded like mist at dawn.

Darkness ate the edges like spilled ink, swallowing the world bite by bite.

A rainbow gate flared before Edlyn, a bridge after rain, and she took one last look over the waning land.

Akenachel had shed most of her power, and soon this place would return to nothing like a sand mandala brushed away.

Maybe one day, Angela would inherit Akenachel’s gift, return here, and raise pillars anew like saplings in spring.

Janus had fed this realm with energy, but with its master asleep, that river had run dry like a broken aqueduct.

Soon, the world would gnaw that residue, then vanish with it into endless time like stars swallowed by night.

Edlyn bowed to the dimming world, clutching the light like a talisman, and left at the last heartbeat before the dark fell.

No sound followed, and Akenachel’s mental world went still as a sealed tomb.

Another dizzy tunnel rushed by, a wind through caverns, and Edlyn carried the light back to the small courtyard.

Zero and Janus were gone, like footprints washed by rain. She wondered what storms they chased now.

She walked to Angela, sleeping on the bed Janus had conjured, like a cat curled on a sun-warmed stone.

Edlyn stood bedside, watched Angela drool with a tiny frown, and smiled faintly like moonlight over water.

Thinking back, before she reclaimed the Demon King’s blood, that stretch had been the easiest season of her two lives, a long autumn of peace.

No kin scheming to seize the throne, no weight of the Demon Race pressing like mountains on her shoulders.

No continent glaring like a field of spears, no death threat from the Hero stalking her like a wolf.

Every day she lived carefree, learning human lore, breathing the rhythm of a quiet village like smoke from chimneys.

She’d tease her little sister for fun, and curse the Hero nightly like tossing pebbles into a dark pond.

Food and clothes came easy like harvest rain. A mother both gentle and strict, and a father stern in face but warm at heart like banked coals.

Edlyn drew a long breath, a tide gathering in a shell.

There was a word she hadn’t spoken in ages, a name like a knot in her chest.

“Dad... Mom... I’ll take care of my sister. And... I’ll avenge you.” Her eyes lost their old innocence like snow melting from stone.

After meeting Eli, she’d say goodbye for now and return to the Draco Empire, heading home like a swallow to eaves.

She’d find the ones who killed her parents, hunting them like shadows at dusk.

Since leaving her small town with the Hero, she’d drifted muddled, like a boat lost in fog.

She kept saying she’d revive the Demon Race, yet she was painfully weak, a blade without edge.

Without the Hero’s shelter on the road, she’d have died a dozen times, a candle in wind.

“After I find our killers and take revenge, I’ll return to the Demon Race. It’s time to let true Abyssal power fall on us again like night rain.”

Cold filled her eyes like frost creeping over glass.

“They’ll taste the might of the Demon Race again like iron on the tongue. And... we’ll seize a territory... then rest.”

The thought shifted like clouds breaking.

Her chill eased, and she sighed like reeds in evening wind.

“Maybe there’s a way... to live like before,” she murmured, voice soft as dust.

Edlyn frowned, a crease like a cut. Was she getting old?

Why did she suddenly want to retreat into mountains, to fade like smoke? Her face dimmed, a lamp turned low.

So she was shaken after all, like a bell struck too hard.

Birand’s sword still rang in her bones. Eli’s face was the same, killing intent pouring off him like a winter storm, Holy Sword raised with a strike beyond her knowing.

Edlyn clutched her arms, feeling a chill spread over her like river ice.

She frowned, rode out the cold for a long breath, then steadied like a mast after squall.

She opened her right hand, watched the weakened light like a dying star, and fed it threads of Abyssal power like ink veins.

The sphere dimmed further, a candle guttering.

Edlyn lifted the sleeping Angela, pressed the light to her heart like a seal to parchment.

Angela flinched, brow knitting, as if a wind had brushed her dream.

Edlyn gathered her in, and Angela settled, a bird in the nest.

Somewhere, Zero exhaled, relief drifting like smoke, and watched two little girls embrace in the yard with a small smile.

“Looks like I don’t need to worry,” he said, voice easy as warm tea. “The future’s forged by you, and the path’s finally straightening.”

“Ah. I’m rambling. My bad. I’m out.” He snapped his fingers, a flint in night, and vanished like a wink.

Edlyn looked down at Angela. “Little sis, when you wake, we’re leaving,” she whispered, a promise like thread.

Angela nuzzled in her arms, like a kitten finding heat.

..........................................................

Outside the Elven City, on the battlefield, night lay thick as ink.

Beastkin tribes that hunted by moonlight moved beyond the Elf Race’s wary line, sweeping the field like brooms through leaves.

Corpses sprawled everywhere like fallen trees, mostly Beastkin, a few of the Elf Race, and heaps of broken gear like bones.

The earth was scarred, pitted by blasts of magic and Battle Aura, with snapped arrows and skittish elementals flickering like sparks.

The Elven City walls were battered and cracked, a cliff eroded by storm.

Natural elements pooled dense on one side like fog in a valley, standing opposite the Beastkin camp like two tides at war.

Deep beneath the battlefield, in the earth’s belly, Era finished her summoning chant, and she and Reni were “welcomed” by elementals like hornets from a hive.

They fled through the elemental space, chased by countless energies like arrows in rain.

“Wow, this is on you! Why’d you shout nonsense?” Reni dodged a bolt, rolled over dirt, and yelled at Era like a spark hitting oil.

“Uh... this wasn’t what I expected. The influence is limited... can’t be helped. I’ll chant it a few more times.”

Era sounded embarrassed, words tripping like pebbles.

Reni clenched her teeth. “Then chant!”

Era patted Reni’s shoulder. “Chant with me!”

“Fine! Less talk, more chant!”

They didn’t notice the killing intent and bloodlust above, seeping through soil like rain, flowing toward the Fallen Angels’ prison, and getting devoured by something like a bottomless maw.

“Uwah!” A wood elemental bolt hit near Reni’s foot, and the soil sprouted a giant tree that wrapped her like vines around prey.

She stared a heartbeat, then screamed, the sound sharp as torn silk. Was this how her tale ended?

She couldn’t break free, so she stopped struggling, watching the onrushing elementals like waves closing.

Era sighed, wings snapping open like raven banners, Fallen Angel energy shrouding Reni like night.

“Fine, this one’s on me. I’ll die with you,” she said, cool as winter water.

Thud.

No pain followed, just silence settling like snow.

Era rolled her eyes. “What a cliché,” she muttered, dry as sand.

The Fallen Angels had already broken their cages, iron giving way like clay.

The one who blocked the strike was one of them, a shadow stepping from bars.

She rubbed her eyes and peered at Reni and Era. “Uh... you’re a Fallen Angel, right...” Her words wandered like sleepy bees.

She glanced at Reni. “Uh... and you’re Demon Race, right...” Doubt puckered her mouth.

Reni and Era nodded. “Yeah, what’re you trying to say?!”

She tilted her head, pouted, disbelief like a thorn. “But... in my memory, Fallen Angels and demons weren’t this weak.”

Era’s brow twitched, a string pulled taut.

Damn it, this one was locked up before the Hero unleashed Annihilation Dawn, living untouched down here like a pearl in mud.

“Easy to talk when you’re not hurt,” Era spat, a spark against stone, and studied the newcomer’s face like a sketch unfolding.

“Eh? I think you’re—”

“Huh? I’m—?” The Fallen Angel tilted her head, puzzled as a lost bird.

“Lilith?!” Era’s eyes widened like moons.

Lilith blinked. “...Well, I’ll be. You actually know me. Who are you?” Her tone drifted like smoke.

“I’m Era!” Era’s voice leapt like flame.

“Era... which one?” Lilith rolled her eyes, sass sharp as salt.

“Damn, you heartless thing! I oughta choke you!”

“Whoa, you’re hitting me—Ah! I remember! Sis?! It’s you, right? Okay, stop! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”