Outside the walls, darkness still lingered over the land, yet it no longer held absolute dominion. Thin rays of light pierced through the dense, unmoving clouds above, faint and fragile, as though the sky itself hesitated to welcome the coming dawn. The air swirled with a restless unease, carrying with it the fading echoes of battle, grief, and something far more ancient that refused to settle into silence.
Clayren's screams had already faded, leaving behind a quiet that felt heavier than any noise.
At some distance, Rylagh lay in a pool of his own blood, his body trembling faintly from both injury and exhaustion. His breaths came unevenly, shallow and strained, yet a faint smile stubbornly clung to his lips, as though he had witnessed something that justified every cost. His gaze remained fixed ahead, unwavering, locked onto the figure that stood at the center of it all.
Clayren stood there, motionless, as though the world itself revolved around her presence.
Her body had taken on a deep, unnatural shade of blue, a color that no longer resembled living flesh but something altered beyond recognition. Runes covered every inch of her skin, intricate and shifting, flickering between dim and radiant states as if caught in an endless struggle to stabilize.
The aura she emitted no longer felt human; it was vast, oppressive, and distant, like something that had emerged from an abyss untouched by time or light.
Rylagh's fingers dug deeper into the wound in his abdomen, his hand trembling as he pressed against it, as though anchoring himself to the moment. His lips parted, and in a hoarse whisper that carried both exhaustion and certainty, he spoke.
"It is… successful."
The words did not carry triumph so much as inevitability, as though he had simply confirmed the arrival of something long foreseen. With visible effort, he raised his trembling hand and looked into the distance, his gaze stretching far beyond what his body should have allowed.
"Now…"
Far away, Sylwen felt it immediately.
Without hesitation, she lifted her hand high into the air, her posture steady despite the growing turbulence in the surroundings. As she brought it down in a decisive motion, the wind responded, rising sharply and pulling at her flowing hair as though answering her call.
"Myrieth, focus," she said softly, though her voice carried a firm clarity that cut through distraction.
Myrieth's misty gaze shifted slowly, lingering for a moment on Rylagh's distant form as if reluctant to let go of something unseen, before finally settling upon Sylwen. There was a faint hesitation in her expression, but it did not last.
An ephemeral sword began to manifest in Sylwen's grasp. At first, it appeared translucent, as though only partially present within reality. Yet within its form shimmered the image of a magnificent, ancient tree—vast, silent, and eternal. Its presence felt immeasurable.
As Sylwen raised the sword, her expression grew solemn, and her voice took on an ancient cadence that resonated with something far older than the battlefield."Oh sacred tree of this world, grant us your essence, that we may invoke the Four Astral Spheres…"
Light began to gather around her, not violently, but with a quiet inevitability, wrapping around the blade and expanding outward until her figure seemed almost detached from the world. For a brief moment, she resembled something more than mortal—something born of light itself.
Beside her, Myrieth murmured under her breath, her voice distant and reverent. "The ancient sorcery… of nullification…"
At that same moment, far to the south, Aowyn stood with her massive black shield planted firmly before her. The grotesque mouth etched into its surface seemed almost alive, its presence deeply unsettling, especially against her delicate frame. Yet she showed no hesitation. Closing her eyes, she began chanting the same incantation, her voice steady as it joined the unseen current binding them together.
In the west, Laria raised her weapon—a massive hammer that seemed capable of crushing mountains. Against her slender body, it appeared almost absurd, yet the steadiness of her grip and the resolve in her eyes erased any sense of imbalance. She lifted it high, her voice joining the others without faltering.
In the east, Vryger drew his bow with measured precision. As the string tightened, an arrow formed from pure light, its presence humming faintly with restrained power. His gaze sharpened as he aligned himself with the unfolding ritual.
Their voices merged.
From four distant directions, light condensed into brilliant spheres before surging forward, tearing through the sky with unstoppable force. The world itself seemed to respond, as if acknowledging the weight of what was being invoked.
Rylagh watched them approach, his breathing ragged, yet satisfaction flickered across his face. "The Four Astral Spheres…" he muttered, a faint, breathless laugh escaping him.
Then his expression froze.
A subtle pressure brushed against his senses—faint, fleeting, yet unmistakably familiar. Unease crept in.
"…Did I just sense…?" he murmured, his brows furrowing.
Closing his eyes, he extended his perception outward, searching through the thinning veil of darkness. Time seemed to stretch, each passing second heavy with anticipation.
Then—nothing.
"…Strange. No one…" he exhaled slowly, though the unease lingered.
Meanwhile, Clayren remained still at the center of the battlefield.
The air around her rippled violently, streaked with flickers of emerald light that began to gather in her grasp. The energy resisted shape at first, but gradually, something began to form.
Vines.
They twisted and coiled around her weapon, growing rapidly, thickening and expanding until they formed a massive sword of vines, which was giving off emerald brilliance. The very space around her warped under its presence, as though reality itself struggled to contain the force she now wielded.
She stepped forward, lowering her stance with deliberate control.
The ground trembled beneath her.
In the distance, the abomination advanced.
Its grotesque, headless body writhed as hundreds of arms erupted from its form in chaotic motion. At its center, a massive crimson eye pulsed with hatred. The sound it emitted was a layered cacophony—countless voices crying, wailing, screaming as one.
At the same time, above them, the four spheres of light collided.
A vast net of power unfolded and descended, slow yet absolute, as though it had always been destined to fall upon this battlefield.
"Rylagh…" the voice echoed, filled with fury. "You dare…unleash this... I will slaughter every Mythrian after this…"
Rylagh let out a low chuckle. "Others may not understand your transformation, but boast all you wish. It ends here."
As the net expanded, darkness dissolved wherever the light touched it, erased as though it had never existed.
The sky began to shift. Darkness retreated. Faint red hues emerged.
Dawn approached.
Rylagh smiled faintly. "The dawn of today will be our victory."
"Your victory?" the voice replied coldly. "Tell me, Rylagh… whose side are you on? That king… whose ancestor ruined Mythria… Do you feel no shame?"
Rylagh's expression twisted. "What do you know?" he snapped. "It was necessary—for the greater good!"
"Hypocrite."
The word lingered."Today… I will show the world your true face."
Rylagh's voice dropped into a harsh whisper. "Clayren… finish her."
The battlefield erupted.
The abomination unleashed a blinding surge of power. "Roaring Star Beam!"
The attack surged forward, a torrent of destruction.
Clayren suddenly moved.
Her emerald blade rose and met the beam, deflecting it with immense force.
Far away, going away from the strange chapel, Veer halted, his body tensed as he looked toward the direction of the battlefield. He sensed the overwhelming star energy gathering, but clenched his jaw and turned away, choosing to move toward Kerin instead."It's definitely immense star energy..."
Back on the battlefield, Clayren advanced, but countless undead surged toward her. The abomination hurled bodies at her relentlessly while maintaining its assault.
Then the net descended fully.
Something shifted.
The abomination faltered.
Its foundation began to collapse.
The undead dissolved into particles of light, freed from their twisted existence. The battlefield itself seemed to breathe as dawn consumed the remnants of darkness.
The abomination roared in confusion.
Its attack struck again, and Clayren met it head-on. The ground shattered beneath her. Cracks spread across her body, her hair whipping wildly as she forced the beam aside with a scream that carried both pain and resolve.
Then she vanished.
Reappearing again.
And again.
And again.
The abomination staggered as its form unraveled. The mass of corpses disappeared, leaving only a towering, headless demon with one arm bearing a red crystal and the other gripping a massive drake sword. Clayren vanished again as hundreds of cuts appeared everywhere, and she muttered after a long time without speaking anything," Myriad Sword Strike…"
The huge hands fell apart.Each of the strikes caused a minor earthquake.The land was trembling like sands.
Her voice was calm, unwavering.
Blades flashed relentlessly as the demon's body shattered piece by piece under the storm of emerald light.
Now, only a single arm barely remained.
Clayren moved like a phantom, her form shifting between darkness and radiance, each strike blooming like emerald flowers.
From afar, Myrieth whispered in disbelief, while Sylwen watched with quiet realization as she exclaimed, "The prime inheritor of Emerald Rune."
Rylagh watched as well.
"…Finally," he exhaled.
"It's over."
The final arm broke.
Silence followed.
The battlefield was cleansed. No darkness remained. No demon.
Only dawn.
Light spread across the land, carrying a quiet sense of release.
Near a massive crystal rune stood Clayren, and not far from her lay the Breavan queen who had transformed into the abomination, her body drenched in blood and barely alive.
Clayren stepped forward.
She reached out to get the Drake sword hovering in the air.
But before she could reach it, the blade shot upward, vanishing into the sky.
She turned toward a red, rune-engraved fragment. It was the same fragment that appeared after Merissa was killed by John.
As she reached for it, a faint voice echoed with shock.
"Fall back… Clayren…"
A shadow moved.
The black knight appeared silently. The same black knight who had fought Clayren relentlessly. He who should have been injured was there. There was a black sword in his hand.
His presence felt like a void.
Before anyone could react, he moved.
Too fast. Clayren seemed like she knew, as her head was in that direction faintly, but she didn't move.
The black blade pierced through Clayren's back and emerged from her chest.
Emerald blood flowed.
She did not resist. She turned her head towards someone.
She only looked at Rylagh.
"All my life… I have been a tool… I hold no resentment… Live, Rylagh… for I love you…"
Her body suddenly shattered into fragments of light. At the place of her heart, a shining emerald core appeared.
The black knight lifted the emerald core calmly.
"Thank you, Rylagh. You made it easy… the infamous Realm changer."
It was silent. Too silent.
"Just how many lives will you destroy. Then it was your supposed best friend. Now it was the woman who always loved you..."
There was no response from Rylagh.
The wind howled as suddenly Rylagh erupted with a shout, "Clayren...No...."
Rylagh collapsed, crawling forward in desperation, his composure completely broken.
"Clayren… where are you… tell me this is a joke…"
Silence answered him.
"This was a plan to destroy her..How could ...."
"No,,,,no..."
Far away, Myrieth tried to run towards her father as Sylwen again captured her arm.
"No, you can't go..If that man becomes aware of your identity..."
"It will be even more dangerous...."
The knight who killed Clayren whispered as he looked at the sky, "That damn drake sword...Once I see it gain, I will personally destroy it."
He then looked to Braevan Queen as he said, "Oh Queen! You are so unpredictable. "
"We succeeded only because I bought the Black Demon Sword just in case."
"Hah..let's go ..."
Suddenly, he sensed something. An immense pressure is coming from Rylagh. He suddenly vanished near the queen and opened something. A head. He crushed the skull. Then both of them vanished...
A sorrowful voice echoed, "Clayren...."
Around Rylagh, faint lights drifted upward as the freed souls vanished peacefully.
All Mythrians started to run in the direction of Rylagh as he cried. The darkness was vanishing everywhere, and the land was welcoming light. Dawn was being welcomed by a crying figure.
The night shimmered, no longer with darkness, but with quiet gratitude—and an unbearable loss that lingered beneath the arriving dawn.
..............
Inside a room, a girl was sleeping. Her figure was very similar to Eryssa's, but she was a mature and grown lady. There were a few projections of her floating like white shadows. On the ground, two more figures lay. Two princesses of Drudar.
Something was floating above them. Two emerald cores.
A man was standing near the scene. A shadow suddenly emerged as he bowed, "O majesty...all seven pieces are gathered..." as he presented a vibrant emerald rune.
The man sighed, "So Clayren is gone..Huh.."
He smiled gently as he said, "Take care, Clayren. Farewell to you."
The room shone with emerald light as everything drowned.