Shiker was left utterly speechless. He managed to say, "This... This was not supposed to be my fate."
Shiker was the city's final guardian, the one who should have perished alongside its end. His stubborn life should have faded away with his fallen comrades. The core, shrouded in the power of Void, was meant to be destroyed in self-detonation. Until the very last moment, he was supposed to absorb that corrosive force and purify the land. That had been his final mission.
He couldn't believe what was happening before his eyes.
"Arrgh."
"You insane bastard!" Seria shouted, eyes blazing. "If you were going to eat all of that, you could've at least said something first!"
"Seria, I trust you," Caron said with a grin. "You're the miracle saintess who revives even those at death's door. And besides, how could I possibly leave something this delicious behind? If someone else ate it before me, I'd never forgive myself."
"...O Light above," Seria muttered, pressing her palms together. "Please, smite this lunatic warrior where he stands..."
The heir of Rael Leston had done the unthinkable.
That dreadful force which brought only annihilation upon contact—he had literally devoured it. The void sphere that no mortal body should ever have been able to endure had been swallowed as if it were nothing.
It all happened in the blink of an eye. There had been no time to react—nor had Shiker even thought to stop it. And yet, the result went far beyond imagination.
"How are you still alive, heir of Rael Leston?" Shiker asked.
The massive power of Void had been pulled into the young man's body. Not all of it—no, not quite—but nearly four-fifths of that sphere had been absorbed. It made no sense. Shiker couldn't understand what mortal could possibly contain such power within flesh and blood.
"Do you even realize you almost died just now?" he pressed.
Caron waved his hand dismissively and replied, "Oh, I never planned on dying. Worst case, I was just going to spit it back out."
"And if that power went berserk? What then?" Shiker asked.
"That's what you're here for—you know how to handle it," Caron answered shamelessly.
Shiker could only sigh in disbelief at Caron's brazen attitude.
He wondered if this reckless fool was truly the one spoken of in prophecy, and if vengeance for his comrades was really entrusted to those shoulders. And then there was his manner of speaking. The boy who had been using casual, insolent speech all along was suddenly addressing him with respect.
"Your tone has grown more formal," Shiker remarked.
"Well, we need to get along from here on, don't we?" Caron asked. "Honestly, I thought we'd only meet once today."
"When the curse of Void lifts from this place, I am fated to vanish..." Shiker trailed off.
"But you haven't vanished, have you?" Caron asked with a crooked smile, tilting his chin.
Shiker clenched and unclenched his fists, running his hands over his own body in confusion. He whispered, "...Why?"
And just as the question formed in his mind...
Srrrk!
Light began to seep into the ashen skies. Color bled back into the monochrome world. Outside the temple, the howls of beasts quieted, and soon silence draped itself across the city.
It wasn't the heavy, suffocating silence of before. No—it was calm, peaceful, like a quiet night descending upon weary souls.
Fwhooosh!
Seria's light poured down upon the city.
The once-unscathed temple, the only structure that had seemed untouched, now bore the marks of age. Its stonework began to weather, dust rising into the golden rays. Time itself resumed its flow.
Void's power, which had sealed this city away from reality, was gone. Whatever remnants lingered dissolved upon touching Seria's light.
Shiker stood wordlessly, watching it all unfold. For the first time, emotion stirred on a face that until now had been blank, a mix of wonder, sorrow, and relief flickering in his eyes.
"I..." he began as the emotions that had been sealed away with the city came rushing back to life.
Shiker felt unbearable sorrow.
Drip.
Like a flood breaking loose, memories of his kin who had fallen under the curse of Void swept through his mind. Tears streamed down his once-parched face.
And yet, it wasn't only that. A faint glimmer of hope seeped through the thick veil of grief.
With tears in his eyes, Shiker looked at Caron. He said softly, "Yes... this was emotion."
He managed a strained smile. Awkward as his expression was, the swelling in his chest was unmistakably joy.
He'd been freed from Void's grip, and now, before him, stood a successor brave enough to stand against it. If he said this moment wasn't joyous, that would be a lie.
Step.
Shiker took a step toward Caron. Slowly, he raised his hand and offered it in a gesture of friendship. He said, "Our kin once used this act to show that we would walk together. Do humans of the continent share the same meaning?"
Caron grinned and nodded, then answered, "Not exactly, but close enough."
"I hardly know what words to use, but..." Shiker said as his face twisted into a strange expression—something between laughter and tears. But when he spoke, his voice carried strength. "Thank you."
His tone had softened considerably.
Three whole centuries had passed, and yet here was a descendant who had finally come. The bloodline had thinned with time, but in this young man, Shiker could feel the presence of Rael Leston... even if the boy himself seemed not to realize it yet.
"It seems we never exchanged names," Shiker said.
"I was waiting for that," Caron replied.
He straightened his disheveled clothes and gave a courteous bow, then introduced himself. "I am Caron Leston, the youngest of the Ducal Family of Leston."
"The Ducal Family of Leston... A clan Rael founded, then?" Shiker asked.
"Yes, that's correct. I'm not entirely sure of the exact ties between our ancestor and yourself, but since you knew him, I'll make sure to ask properly," Caron answered.
"Shiker. Shiker Ivonne. In our tongue, it means 'the one remembered,'" Shiker explained.
"Shiker Ivonne... very well. May I trust that you will continue to stand by me?" Caron asked.
Shiker's face broke into a bright smile as he nodded and answered, "Of course. We share the same goal."
"Since you clearly have the seniority here, please feel free to speak more comfortably with me. Ah—right. Seria?" Caron said.
At his call, Seria stepped forward, looking exhausted. She asked dryly, "What is it now? Another errand?"
"You've done well. But... Could I trouble you once more?" Caron asked.
Seria realized Caron's voice carried a rare seriousness, unlike his usual tone. With a small sigh, she nodded and said, "Let's hear it."
"Could you honor those who met their end here?" Caron asked.
He remembered the ones who had sacrificed their very lives to hold back the demonic monsters. Though they had lost their voices, he remembered how desperately they had fought. They deserved respect. No—everyone who had perished here deserved respect.
Seria gave a small nod and said, "It can be done."
"But they had no ties with the God of Light. Will that matter?" Caron asked.
"Light reaches all corners of the world. Even if they never served Him, He will surely receive them. Please wait a moment—I must wash with holy water first," Seria replied.
She offered no more protests. She simply drew a vial of holy water from her pouch.
Caron and his companions watched in silence. Together, they bowed their heads in solemn remembrance of the fallen.
***
Even after the power of Void vanished, the island didn't disappear.
"Because Void's power lingered here for so long, the boundary between illusion and reality completely collapsed. When Void disappeared, the place was simply absorbed into reality," Gratia explained in a matter-of-fact tone. "This land was originally part of reality, later sealed off and made into an illusion. In a way, it is only natural that this would be the result."
"Gratia, could you please explain in simpler terms?" Caron asked.
"...It means we can use it as a base, you wretched oath-bearer," Gratia replied flatly.
"You should've just said that from the start," Caron snapped.
They stood at the top of the temple's high spire. From there, Caron and his companions looked down upon the city below.
From such a height, they could see just how prosperous the city had once been. Even if the empire boasted advanced technology, it was nothing compared to this.
"We once achieved an Arcane Civilization," Shiker said. "The force you called twisted dark mana—we wielded it in far more varied ways."
"I only called it dark mana because there wasn't a better word. Besides, its properties were almost identical," Caron said.
"Of course. This power was refined by studying the beings you call Demon Kings," Shiker replied.
"Then, for convenience, I'll just call it an Arcane Civilization," Caron said.
"Call it whatever you like. History always belongs to those who record it," Shiker said.
Caron looked over the remnants of that civilization and slowly nodded, then continued, "I think I can see a few structures that are still intact."
There was at least one advantage to this place where time had flowed differently from the outside. Traces of the Arcane Civilization had survived.
If Caron was clever, perhaps he could make use of them.
"I've heard there are ancient ruins scattered across the continent," Caron began. "Could those be remnants of this civilization?"
"I cannot give you a definite answer," Shiker replied. "On the day our civilization perished, many tried to flee. Rael Leston was one of them."
"Hmm... Then that's something to confirm later. For now... would any of these ruins still be usable?" Caron asked.
"Most of the city's functions have ceased, but with repairs, a fair number of facilities might still run again. It was simply beyond the surviving people to attempt such repairs," Shiker explained.
"You don't know unless you try... I like that," Caron said with a grin.
"What do you like about it?" Shiker asked.
"It means the chance isn't zero," Caron answered, then glanced slyly at Gratia. "What do you think, Gratia?"
"What exactly are you asking?" Gratia asked.
"Do you think it's useful—or not?" Caron replied.
Through the eyes of a dragon, things could appear differently.
Gratia promptly nodded and answered, "If it can be restored, of course it will be useful. Even at a glance, this was a highly advanced civilization."
"That sounds like something Aqua would say," Caron said.
"Dragons do not build civilizations," Gratia replied. "We are perfect as we are. Yet even to my perfect eyes, this seems valuable. In fact, I am honestly curious—just how advanced had this civilization become?"
It seemed this was the first time Gratia had shown genuine interest in something like this. If even a dragon found it intriguing, then it was a civilization worth respect.
Caron nodded slightly, then turned to his companions and said, "All right, time to draw lots."
Beatrice blinked, wide-eyed, and asked, "Why in the world are you saying something crazy again?"
"Someone has to stay behind. To contact headquarters, there's no other choice but to go directly," Caron answered.
"Only one of us needs to go, though," Beatrice said.
"Ah, you're right. In that case, you all stay here. I'll go with Gratia and be right back," Caron said.
Gratia gave a dry laugh and asked, "So you don't even ask for my opinion anymore?"
"We can't leave this island without the great and mighty dragon," Caron said with a smile.
"And once you return to headquarters?" Gratia asked.
"Then we'll send a vanguard here. It'll come with risk, but it's worth the attempt—"
As Caron discussed future plans with Gratia, Shiker, who had been listening quietly, spoke cautiously. "You intend to use the sea?"
"Yes. As I said, this place lies right in the middle of the North Sea," Caron answered.
"Then you must open a sea route," Shiker mused. "I may be able to help. We once carried out many studies in order to conquer the sea we called the Four Oceans. At the very least, I can serve as a navigator. Now that the demonic monsters here are gone, with a few assistants it should be quite possible..."
"Beatrice, Ugo, and Kerra," Caron called. "That's an order from your Commander. Assist Shiker."
The old Imperial Guards looked at one another in disbelief.
"Does he still think he's our Commander?" Beatrice pointed out.
"Commander, should we teach you a lesson?" Kerra muttered.
"...How about I just say please? Everyone, please help him," Caron said with a sheepish smile.
Beatrice smirked and nodded, then said, "Staying here isn't hard. But you'd better be prepared."
"Hm?" Caron responded.
"We don't work for free anymore. Think about what reward you'll give us on the way back. How long did you plan on using us without pay?" Beatrice asked.
The others nodded firmly in agreement.
"Yeah, how long were you planning to freeload off us?" Ugo asked.
"Commander, the world doesn't run on loyalty alone. Do you understand?" Kerra added.
Faced with their stubborn stance, Caron sighed heavily and said, "To think noble knights could fall so low. How did it come to this..."
"You were the first to fall," Beatrice shot back.
"You've gotten used to abandoning comrades," Kerra added. "You ditched us once before and went to die alone. And now you're planning to leave us behind here too. Do you know I still have nightmares from that time?"
Caron had no way to defend against such accusations. With tears welling in his eyes, he simply nodded and said, "...Fine. I'll think about it."
His subordinates had grown far too bold for their own good.
Once matters had settled, Beatrice leaned toward Shiker and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "Shiker."
"Yes?" Shiker answered.
"You should probably run while you can," Beatrice warned.
"...What do you mean?" Shiker asked.
Beatrice tilted her chin toward Caron and replied, "That man is rotten to the core."
"...He's that bad?" Shiker asked.
"Yes, he is," Beatrice confirmed.
And so, Shiker, the last survivor of the brilliant Arcane Civilization, was dragged into Caron's orbit along with the Ghost Island.
It was a colossal event, one that would alter the course of the Demon Realm Expedition.