The executioner nun descended like an angel of judgment, her gaze fixed and merciless. Her eyes were cold, devoid of doubt, shining with a faith that allowed no mercy.
"The Sinner…" she whispered, each word vibrating through the air like an invisible blade.
Chains of blessing fell from the sky. They gleamed with a pure, terrible radiance, twisting upon themselves as they sought to ensnare her. Their purpose was not merely to bind—it was to claim. The goddess demanded her head.
Emily stepped back, each movement leaving black scars etched into the ground. Her body trembled—not from fear, but from anticipation. The cursed marks along her neck burned with a will of their own, reminding her of the violent bond with the divinity that had once called her daughter.
"Is that all…?" she murmured, her voice cold as obsidian, as a thread of black blood dripped from her shoulder—where one of the chains had pierced her. Her smile never reached her eyes, which gleamed with defiance.
The ground beneath the nun began to rot, cracks spreading from her feet like blackened roots of corruption. Her eyes widened in horror and disbelief as the world itself seemed to turn against her. With every passing second, Emily became more relentless—less human, more an abyss of darkness that devoured any attempt at divine control.
Elizabeth, Holding Back
The earth twins raised a colossal wall, which came crashing down with a roar meant to crush them. Elizabeth lifted her hand, energy trembling in her fingers like a contained storm—an illusion capable of reducing the mountain to dust.
But she hesitated.
"I can't… I mustn't…" she whispered, restraining the surge of power that could destroy not only their enemies, but also reveal her true nature to Lusian.
The impact struck with brutal force, sending dust and stone into the air. Dayana intervened, extending her hand and raising a barrier of twisted, desiccated corpses. The blow was dampened, leaving Elizabeth breathing hard, sweat running down her brow.
Adela, Queen of Winter
The divine swordsman charged with overwhelming force. Adela pulled the reins of her white tiger, which glided through rock and grass like living snow.
It exhaled a freezing pulse that climbed the enemy's body from legs to chest, crystallizing muscle in an instant. The man struggled, trying to break free—
—but the statue shattered into glittering fragments, shards of ice slicing through the air like blades.
Thunder, the Guardian
The wind archer unleashed a storm of blessed arrows, cutting through the air with deadly precision.
Thunder vanished.
Then reappeared behind him.
A surge of electricity tore through armor, bone, and prayer alike. The body collapsed, smoke rising as the air crackled with residual energy, illuminating the beast's impassive expression.
Thunder returned to Kara's side, growling protectively, its eyes burning with the fury of one who understood the price of approaching its allies.
Lusian, Absolute Dominion
Meanwhile, Lusian walked through the destruction, each step splitting the very shadows beneath him. Every motion of Dainslein was pure execution. The black blade seemed to devour light—and hope itself.
The summoner tried to release his celestial beasts, chains rattling, cries echoing—
—but a single horizontal line from Dainslein split them cleanly in two before they could even touch the ground. The summoner fell instantly, unable to even scream.
Eldric shouted desperate orders. Melaina pushed her flames to their limit. Branor gathered every ounce of lightning into a single strike.
At the same moment, the nine survivors understood:
They were not hunting the Devil.
They were delaying their own sentence.
The sun began to fall. Shadows stretched long across the grass, crawling over every body. Lusian lifted his gaze. His yellow eyes glowed with something that was not emotion.
It was territory.
Absolute dominion.
"Finish it," he whispered.
And the air itself stopped moving.
The valley sank into darkness as night spread like a living shroud.
And the heroes understood—
the night had come for them, not for Lusian.