Boom!
"Damn it," Caron muttered as he slid Guillotine back into its sheath and let out a long sigh.
He'd poured every ounce of Void's power into the blade, but the barrier refused to yield.
Gratia, now in her humanoid form, placed her hand upon the shimmering veil and shook her head with a quiet sigh. She said, "Don't waste your strength, O oath-bearer."
"The power of the Void has seeped into the veil," Caron replied grimly. "That's... the worst possible outcome."
He'd considered this scenario before—the expedition's strategy had even included contingencies for when supply lines were cut off. But it was one thing to prepare for such an event and another to face it for real.
In war, losing supplies was fatal. Without them, no war could continue. Food for the soldiers, healing potions and medicine, ammunition and weapons—all of it was essential.
And since they'd just fought a massive battle, their stores of combat supplies were already severely depleted.
"According to the commander's report, we have enough provisions to last one month," Zerath reported.
Caron clicked his tongue and nodded, then said, "That's... better than I expected."
"It's only because we entered the Realm of Void not too long ago," Zerath explained.
"And our battle supplies?" Caron asked.
"Enough for one more engagement on the same scale as yesterday's," Zerath answered.
"Phew," Caron exhaled slowly, his mind sorting through the situation with practiced calm.
"So breaking through the barrier is impossible," he muttered.
The Demon King of Void had laid his trap perfectly. The veil that the other Demon Kings had once erected to suppress Void's power was now fully under his control.
Perhaps... that had been his plan from the very beginning. With that, the expedition's only route of retreat was gone.
"Either we kill the Demon King of Void, or we die here," Leo murmured quietly.
Caron nodded in response.
"Then our resolve will have to change," Leo said with a small laugh.
Their target had always been the Demon King of Void. But the circumstances were no longer the same.
Until just yesterday, tactical withdrawal had still been an option. Now it wasn't.
There was a vast difference between being prepared to die and having no choice but to die. Morale would inevitably waver.
"No matter what happens, I have to move forward... That's exactly it, huh?" Caron said, clicking his tongue.
At least there was one small blessing in disguise. They had already wiped out the army of Havoc—their greatest threat.
"Kill the Demon King of Void under a time limit?" Caron muttered with a wry smile.
It was definitely a fitting level of difficulty for the final act. Kill or be killed. There was no third option.
"Which direction did the remnants of Havoc's army flee in?" Caron asked.
"Based on the map you drew, they're heading northeast," Zerath reported.
"Ah."
So that damned Demon King of Void had even been kind enough to point the way.
Caron didn't know if it was Void itself guiding him, or fragments of Rael's memories whispering the path, but the expedition's destination was already decided.
The Core of Sin. It was the once-glorious capital that had symbolized the golden age of the Arcane Civilization.
"...Glory," Caron murmured, nodding at the strange yet familiar name that left his lips.
"In the end, moving forward is the only way," he said quietly. "At this point, we're no different from the demons we're fighting."
Their path backward was sealed, and with their supply lines cut, it had become a race against time. All that remained was to march—swiftly, relentlessly—toward the Core of Sin, conserving their strength and firepower as much as possible.
"Sir Zerath," Caron asked, "Will morale falter?"
Zerath paused, then answered, "Not as badly as you might think. Everyone here has family waiting for them back on the continent."
"Is that so?" Caron said softly.
"There's still hope," Zerath continued. "There's still a path to survival."
"We have to kill the Demon King of Void for that path to exist," Caron said with a dry laugh.
"That part, we'll leave to you," Zerath said, his eyes steady and filled with trust.
Just a few years ago, the Commander of the Oceanwolf Knight Order had seen Caron as someone who needed protection. But now, he looked at the latter as someone to follow .
Caron could feel the change in Zerath's heart. He thought, This life is full of things I have to protect.
He couldn't afford to lose. Unlike his previous life, he had far too much to hold onto now.
Turning slightly, he said, "Leo, let's go."
There was much to prepare.
The Core of Sin awaited—the place where the Demon King of Havoc and the Demon King of Void would bring this long, brutal tale to its end.
"...Ah," Caron exhaled.
"What is it?" Leo asked, glancing at him. Caron's tone had shifted; his expression was unusually serious.
"It's nothing. Just... a bit of a headache," Caron muttered.
"Is something wrong?" Leo asked, frowning.
"It's just some memories from my previous life resurfacing," Caron replied lightly.
Leo froze, gripping Caron's shoulder, then continued, "Your previous life...?"
"Yeah. I'll tell you later," Caron said.
"Absorbing two Demon Kings makes you see your previous lives now? Hey, Caron, do you see anything from my past life?" Leo asked, clearly trying to ease the tension.
Caron, amused, decided to play along. He answered, "I do."
"Then say it," Leo said.
"You were brave, loyal..." Caron trailed off.
"A knight? It's a knight, isn't it?" Leo asked.
"...A pet dog. Definitely a pet dog. I can see it clearly," Caron replied.
"...That's just your self-introduction, isn't it?" Leo snapped.
"Nope. You'll be shocked when you find out about my previous life. Tell you what—when the day comes that you beat me in a duel, I'll tell you everything. Just don't regret it when you do," Caron said.
Everyone had their own way of handling tension. For these two cousins who had shared blood and battle alike, it meant trading jabs and laughter.
And in that laughter, they managed to shake off the fear pressing down on them.
They were trapped. There was no retreat. Only one choice remained: To break through, head-on.
***
Just as Zerath had predicted, news of their isolation did nothing to dampen the expedition's morale. If anything, it did the opposite.
"No way back, huh?"
"Well, this place was always meant to be our grave."
"I never planned on returning alive. Ah, but Sir Rahun—did you hear the news?"
"Ah, you mean the compensation for the fallen? Good, isn't it? Even if we die here, our children will live comfortably for the rest of their lives."
"What kind of army takes such care of its dead? I heard it was all thanks to Caron, who threatened the leaders of every nation to make it happen..."
The soldiers grew fiercer.
They had come from every kingdom and every race, the best of the best, united by purpose—and now, by promise.
Caron and Emperor Revelio's insistence on a veteran's compensation policy had become the expedition's backbone. Even if they died here, as long as the Demon Kings fell, their families would live in honor and abundance.
Usually, the families of fallen soldiers were left to ruin. But not this time. The emperor and the Ducal Family of Leston had pledged vast funds and privileges to the bereaved.
And as for Caron Leston himself...
"The price of your blood will be paid, whatever it takes. Even if I have to empty every royal treasury on the continent! You know who I am—Caron Leston, the symbol of trust! And if any nation dares refuse your due, I'll personally go start a revolt—mmph! Sir Zerath, why are you covering my mouth?"
Caron had declared that before the entire expedition, and that vow had been made the very moment he announced their isolation.
Watching him on that stage, every soldier had thought the same thing.
If it's that madman leading us...
A man more demonic than the Demon Kings themselves!
Then maybe we can actually win.
Caron Leston was no longer hailed as the "Hero of Justice." That title had long faded since the expedition began. But one thing had become certain: He was absolutely insane. And as anyone in war would tell you, a madman was terrifying as an enemy, but unbeatable as an ally.
Caron didn't realize it himself, but his influence on morale was immeasurable. He commanded legions of demons and demonic monsters—an army so vast it nearly rivaled nations. Alongside him marched the Avengers, his elite knight order. With a single outrageous declaration, he had kept the expedition's spirits burning high.
They still bore the crushing burden of ending this war within a month. But considering their isolation and the ticking clock, the fact that morale remained so strong was a victory in itself.
"Hmm," Caron hummed, as the army began its advance once again.
The wounded and a few healers stayed behind in the fortress they'd captured from the Demon King of Havoc.
It would serve as a safe haven—for those too injured to go on. If time allowed, Caron would have taken them along, but luxury was something this war had long devoured.
He lounged on an enormous chair, a satisfied grin tugging at his lips, and glanced at Seria beside him. He asked, "So, Seria, how do you feel right now?"
"What nonsense are you about to spout this time?" Seria replied dryly.
"I mean, doesn't it feel strange riding in a demon's carriage? Don't you feel, I don't know, maybe morally compromised as a saint?" Caron asked.
"At least that's less blasphemous than calling you a Warrior. Don't flatter yourself, Warrior," Seria snapped.
Caron and his group led the march from the very front.
After the last battle, their numbers had swelled. More demons and demonic monsters had joined their cause.
New ranks had been drawn up. The main expedition now handled rear artillery and special operations, while the forward assault belonged to the so-called Army of Liberation—the demonic monsters and demons who had pledged themselves to Caron. They were ready to die for him without hesitation.
Caron rode in a massive war carriage drawn by demonic monsters, surrounded by noble demons and Avenger knights standing guard.
"Short on supplies and manpower?" Caron began. "Just throw in more demons and demonic monsters. That's the essence of war by numbers. Write that down, Leo."
"I don't think that's something worth taking notes on," Leo said dryly.
The expedition viewed Caron's monstrous army with mixed feelings. They were too dangerous to trust, but too useful to discard. That was why Caron had resorted to sheer numerical tactics—it left no room for betrayal.
But in truth, Caron didn't expect betrayal at all. There were only two Demon Kings left—the Demon King of Havoc, who had fled and abandoned his troops, and the Demon King of Void, who ruled alone.
Calling the Demon King of Void a king almost felt wrong—he was less a ruler and more the embodiment of pure, immense malice.
Figuring out how to deal with these demons will be a problem, Caron thought.
But that could wait until after the war.
Caron still believed the demons were creatures who deserved to die, but also thought that it'd be a problem to kill all of them. It would take an enormous amount of time just to deal with the demons once the war ended.
It was about then, while Caron was deeply pondering the demons...
Knock, knock, knock.
"Your Majesty, you should come see this yourself," a voice came from beyond the carriage door.
It was Duke Judas—once a servant of Sloth, now Caron's loyal subordinate.
Caron rose, stretching lazily as he yawned and opened the door. He warned, "If this isn't important, you die."
The world outside was the same desolate wasteland as always. Ash-gray skies, no sun, no night—just endless dust and death.
While Caron took in the bleak view, Judas said in a low voice, "We've sighted Glory in the distance."
"Duke Judas, do you know anything about Glory?" Caron asked.
"The deposed Demon Kings granted their Dukes fragments of memory," Judas explained. "Althought they are faint, I recall some things about that city."
The demons were remnants of the ancient Arcane Civilization—those who had succumbed to dark mana.
Judas furrowed his brow as he continued, "It was once a flourishing city."
"That's something even a random demon on the street could tell me," Caron said flatly.
"It was the most prosperous city of its age—and the first to accept dark mana. The very first demon was born there," Judas added. His tone was lifeless.
Caron nodded slowly, turning his gaze toward the distant skyline as he began, "So what exactly am I supposed to see—"
But before Judas could answer, Caron felt it. Far ahead, beyond sight, the city of Glory was pulsing—wild, massive waves of power rolled through the air.
It wasn't the Demon King of Havoc. Among those energies, there was no trace of his dark mana. Instead, there was something else—something eerily familiar.
"...Owner, this energy... It's..." Guillotine whispered in his mind.
"Rael Leston," Caron murmured, disbelief flickering in his voice.
Gratia stepped out of the carriage, her expression grave.
"Oath-bearer," she said softly. "I sense the mana of a Dragon Lord... and Rael."
Caron let out a low sigh, his eyes fixed on the distant ruins. He said quietly, "Seems like the final act."
No one could predict what awaited them there.
No one dared to.