Paragon Raizel stood transfixed, his soul quivering with rapture at the vision before him. Words crumbled like dust before this sublime revelation. A wave of euphoria crashed through him, drowning every achievement, every pleasure he had ever known in this world. It struck deeper than even the paradisiacal release he once found nestled between his wife's thighs.
Yet this sweet, intoxicating euphoria revealed precisely what he would soon forfeit. Bitter regret twisted within him that it had taken reaching this precipice to grasp such a simple truth.
The undeniable reality glared at him mercilessly. He was dying. And now, the cruelty cut deeper because he had glimpsed a soul-truth so profound.
Such revelations never came without cost. He had received the message that his soul was evolving, and he lay immobile on the ground, his Manifestation dissolved into nothingness.
He had become as vulnerable as any mortal human. And he knew that he did not have enough life vigor to see his core reform. The pain and sacrifice that had forged him into a Paragon had been excruciating; this transformation would demand tenfold more.
He knew with cold certainty: he couldn't survive this.
Yet Bairan harbored no despair over his fate. He still had options—ways to sabotage Dante's mission.
Here and now, this revelation alone could dramatically shift the balance against Dante. As a final act of defiance, he could unleash a suicidal assault—one that would obliterate not just Dante but all of Fhugal. The neighboring towns and cities might not escape the devastation.
A Luminary's power after all, always remained shrouded in mystery, rarely discussed and never witnessed in full. But Bairan knew with grim satisfaction—it would be enough to end his friend's life.
However, he recoiled from the thought. To kill Dante... he couldn't bear such a crushing burden.
The truth stung like salt in an open wound—he had helped shape what Dante had become. It was his fault, his whispered questions that had planted seeds of doubt and ambition, questions that had charted their shared path.
Raizel had found his chance at redemption, but Dante never did. To destroy his friend for becoming the very monster he had molded seemed the height of hypocrisy.
Even if it was just a shred of dignity and loyalty, Raizel clung to it with desperate fingers.
He recognized the selfishness threading through his hesitation—a selfish choice, indeed.
But another reason anchored him against the suicidal attack—one that outweighed all others.
His wife and unborn child. They wouldn't survive. The certainty of this settled in his chest like a stone.
If this was to be his final act, it needed to be something more. Something to pass this revelation to another soul.
Someone deserving…
***
Paragon Raizel's body lay sprawled lifelessly on the ground. Nearby, Dante stood with crumbling composure, struggling to maintain a stern gaze while unshed tears glazed his eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks.
He stared at his friend's dying form, hand trembling, hesitant to deliver the final blow. His own Essence Manifestation had dissolved—not from essence depletion, but by choice.
Then—a silent shuddering rippled through reality. The world suddenly grew heavy, as though gravity itself had multiplied tenfold.
Dante paled, his eyes widening as the sensation washed over him—a power that made even him, a Paragon, quake with primal fear. He stumbled backward, no longer willing to approach his dying friend.
What metamorphosis was overtaking Raizel?
'He couldn't be...'
The assumption seemed wild, but if there was one truth about Raizel, it was that his friend perpetually defied impossibilities.
The deduction crystallized in Dante's mind: Raizel teetered on the precipice of becoming a Luminary.
Dread coiled around Dante's throat. What would become of his meticulous plans? All his effort? If Raizel ascended to Luminary and set himself against his cause...
He would be stopped. He would fail, watching a decade of planning crumble to ash. Now that the revolution had finally ignited, he couldn't allow it to be smothered.
These fears mounted within his chest, crushing his resolve.
And yet...
Yet...
He dared not move a single step toward that abominable will pressing upon the air.
Its scale loomed so massive and incomprehensible that Dante felt he would be crushed beneath it at the slightest movement. Like the sky itself preparing to collapse upon him, he cowered—a helpless child with no escape from its boundless, terrible weight.
Was this the will of a Luminary?
Understanding slipped from Dante's grasp as the pressure intensified, bearing down like an ocean's weight. Lieutenant Dante's forehead beaded with sweat, droplets carving paths down his temple as his eyes darted frantically, searching for solutions where none existed.
Then—movement.
Paragon Raizel's body rose, no longer the friend Dante had known. His eyes glowed like the depths of a primordial volcano, lifeless yet burning with unfathomable heat. His flesh had blackened, charred yet still actively burning, with veins of molten fire tracing intricate patterns across his skin.
He took a step forward.
The world quaked in response.
Lieutenant Dante's heart plummeted into his gut, his stomach twisting with a primal need to flee. His bowels threatened to betray him.
Burning Storm took another step. Again, reality itself shuddered in acknowledgment.
The next tremor sent Dante's heart spiraling deeper into dread. He tensed, white-knuckled fingers clutching his sword as he prepared to summon his Essence Manifestation once more. Soul essence still pulsed within him, enough for one final stand.
But to his astonishment, Burning Storm showed no sign of approaching him with malice.
Or approaching him at all.
The Prophet materialized in the clearing, his gaze sweeping across the devastation before settling on Dante, then shifting to Burning Storm's retreating form.
A deep frown carved lines into the Prophet's darkly handsome features.
"What are you doing? You should kill him."
Dante hurled a venomous glare at the Prophet, his eyes like twin blades.
"Dare move from that spot, and I will kill you myself."
The Prophet clicked his tongue, irritation radiating from him in palpable waves.
Koll understood the sacred bond Dante shared with the dying man. Still, the sight of Burning Storm—walking like some unholy revenant despite resembling a living corpse—sent ice through his veins.
Yet he recognized the impossible position before them. A suicidal attack from Raizel would claim not only his wife's life but those of every government official nearby.
Resigned, he watched the half-born Luminary continue his inexorable march.
Meanwhile, Raizel's footfalls grew heavier, each step imprinting the earth beneath him. His will pressed upon the air with crushing force as his charred lips parted, unleashing a single name that emerged as a guttural rasp:
"R-i-a-n."
The syllables rippled outward, carrying impossible weight. A profound, chilling tremor burrowed into the very depths of Northern's soul expanse—penetrating his Soul World.
And suddenly, Northern's blue eyes flared open.