Craaaash!
The explosion swept over Caron. He widened his eyes and stared ahead. Even after a blast violent enough to obliterate everything around them, the enemy still stood unscathed.
"I thought a lot about what I should say when we met again," Seria said.
Even though the blast had torn limbs from her, Seria's body had rebuilt itself in an instant.
Sssshhhhhh.
That ashen holy power—which was now indistinguishable from Perverse Mana—gifted her endless regenerative ability far beyond a troll's.
Every beat of her black wings sent a monstrous gale washing over Caron, and black feathers drove into him, embedding themselves in his flesh. Cold murderous intent crept into his body through those feathers. The Seria before him exhaled a murderous intent so thick it seemed to stain the air, and she reached out toward Caron.
Craaassh!
Seria closed the distance in a heartbeat and swung a fist at Caron's chest. Caron's muscles reacted to strike back on instinct, but at the last moment his sword stopped of its own accord.
If he cut her throat, it would be over. But Caron couldn't bring himself to make that choice.
"You're unnecessarily kind," Seria said, a bitter smile playing at her lips, then her fist drove into his chest.
"Argh."
One blow was enough to wreck Caron from the inside. The tremendous force packed into that punch shook his core to its foundations; his vision flooded with blood-red.
"...Owner," Guillotine called.
"I know. I know it too," Caron replied.
Just a moment before, a gap had clearly appeared. If he had plunged his blade into that opening, he would have killed her without question. But his arm had frozen at the last instant.
"You pack a disgusting punch. You were hiding this kind of strength all along? You are one gloomy saintess." Caron remarked.
Because it was Seria, and she stood there as if she could collapse at any second... and due to that, Caron couldn't force himself to drive his sword into her throat.
This reality wasn't real. It had to be a world manipulated by the Demon King of Void; therefore, the Seria before him was only a fabricated illusion.
So why, then... His long-honed instincts kept stopping his blade. He wondered if Void's power had poisoned his mind.
"Warrior bastard," Seria said.
That voice was all too familiar. Her tone hadn't changed, nor had her face. Only the atmosphere around her had shifted. She had always worn a nun's outfit, but now she had leather garments that revealed the curve of her figure. The saintess chosen by the Light had become Caron's enemy, and now stood before him.
"I don't blame you. It's not your fault that we became like this," Seria said. A sharp, blade-like hatred glinted in her eyes. "So let's end this here. Don't go any further into this. Just stop at this point. Then everyone will be happy."
Crack!
The holy power streaming from her began to warp the space around them. This was no longer a force that could be called mere holy power. It wasn't a blessing, but a god's gift of ruin.
"My Warrior," Seria said.
"Who are you following now? Rael, Rael Leston, is he your master?" Caron asked.
"I can't tell you anything. You have only two choices. Either kill me and move on, or retreat right now. Well then, Warrior. Which will you choose?" Seria's voice had turned plaintive. She had hatred in her heart, and yet she urged Caron to withdraw.
Whoosh.
The sea that surged from Caron instantly coiled around Seria, engulfing her in its cold embrace.
As if she had expected it, Seria gave a faint, almost wistful smile.
"I knew it," she said softly. "You must have been the same back then, too."
"Seria," Caron called.
"No one wanted it to come to this, did they? You did your best... We were just a little too late," Seria continued.
Even though she had stepped into Caron's domain, Seria didn't move an inch. She simply opened her arms, her radiant smile glowing like moonlight on still water. She asked, "If you've made your decision, then you should act on it, shouldn't you?"
"I'm sorry," Caron murmured.
The words escaped him before he realized it. It was an apology that felt pulled from somewhere deep inside. He didn't know why, but something within him insisted that he had to say it.
The strangeness of the feeling lingered only a moment before Caron took a step toward her.
Whoosh!
As his foot struck the surface, the sea rippled outward. Moonlight spread across the waves, colder and lonelier than ever before.
Slice!
Caron skimmed over the water's surface, his sword slicing through the air in one fluid motion. The moonlight pierced the sea beneath him. He turned back, pain twisting his features.
Behind him stood Seria, both hands gripping her throat. Scarlet blood began to trickle down through her fingers.
"Ah..." A small gasp escaped her lips. Yet even as Seria bled, she smiled more brightly, her gaze fixed on him.
"You should've finished me off," she said, her voice trembling. "You tell yourself it's all fake, and yet... It still bothers you, doesn't it? The saintess you cherish is still beyond your domain, after all."
Blood ran from her mouth as she squinted lightly at him.
"Go on, kill me now," she whispered. "You don't even think this is real anyway."
"...Are you the Seria from the future?" Caron finally asked, unable to hold the question any longer.
Seria shook her head and answered, "You still don't get it? This place can't be divided into past or future."
"Then what the hell is this?" Caron asked impatiently.
"A world where countless possibilities have been tangled together. The worlds Void has destroyed and merged into one," Seria replied.
"That's insane," Caron said.
"It's just that," Seria replied calmly. "The Core of Sin is exactly that kind of place."
Then...
Ssshhhh!
Darkness began to surge from beneath her feet, seething like a living thing as it crept up her body.
"If you'd killed me just a moment ago," Seria said, her voice thinning, "I could've rested easily... but it's fine. I'm satisfied just knowing I told you what this world really is."
"Who's the being you serve?" Caron demanded.
"You'll find out soon enough. Oh, and did you know? Your comrades will step into this world before long," Seria added.
She spoke as though delivering a prophecy. Caron's mind filled with questions, but before he could speak, Seria muttered weakly, "Doing this dozens of times... It's exhausting."
"Are you saying Halo's bringing my comrades here?" Caron asked sharply.
The moment the name Halo left his mouth, the faint smile that had lingered on Seria's face vanished in an instant. She asked, shocked, "...What did you just say?"
"Is Halo bringing them here or not?" Caron asked again.
"...Halo Leston... is still alive? That's impossible. Halo Leston was for sure..." Seria trailed off, muttering to herself for a long time before lifting her gaze back to him. The hatred that once filled her eyes had softened, and a faint glimmer of hope now rested there instead.
"Warrior," Seria began urgently, "listen carefully to what I'm about to—"
"You talk too much, Seria. Your mission is complete. Return now."
The darkness that had been crawling up from the ground interrupted, then swallowed her whole.
Seeing it, Caron gripped Guillotine tightly and called out, "Rael Leston."
"Your time is running short, Caron Leston. Instead of wasting it here, take one more step forward," the darkness said.
"You said last time would be the last," Caron growled.
"And that promise was kept," the darkness replied.
"Hah. I hate people who talk in riddles the most," Caron muttered.
"Don't worry. I'll come for you soon enough," the darkness added.
Flaaash!
Black flames erupted, engulfing Seria who was covered in darkness. When Caron blinked, she was gone. And so was Rael's voice.
Caron stood there, staring at the space where Seria had vanished. Her final words echoed in his ears, and the look she'd given him when he mentioned Halo still burned vividly in his mind.
Caron slowly lifted his gaze to the ashen sky, clenching his fist.
This world... The gray, lifeless realm forged by the Demon King of Void...
"...This is even more hateful than I thought, you damned bastard," Caron muttered, his voice low and bitter.
It was a wretched, pitiful place.
As the screams around him began to rise, Caron forced himself out of his thoughts. Now wasn't the time to be distracted.
***
The battle raged on without end. Caron stood at the frontlines, cutting down one enemy after another again and again, without rest.
There was no time to breathe. The enemies poured in relentlessly, constantly testing the strength of Caron's army. It was a pitiful war between kin, a ceaseless slaughter where the fallen piled high, forming a path of corpses beneath his boots.
By the third day since entering this final battlefield, Caron finally reached the outermost edge of the last city, Glory. He stood atop a hill overlooking the city, the wind brushing past his bloodstained armor, and looked down slowly at the scene below.
"For a city said to be destroyed, it seems far too lively, doesn't it?" came a cautious voice. It was Libre, the pale-faced Dark Magic Tower Master, speaking carefully. He added, "For such an important city, it's strange there's no outer wall."
Caron replied flatly, "The walls probably didn't matter."
"Hmm?" Libre tilted his head.
"It means that any enemy who reached this far wouldn't have been stopped by walls anyway," Caron answered.
Libre nodded slowly and agreed. "That's... a fair point."
"And for a civilization as advanced as this," Caron went on, "would they really need walls? A bombardment from afar would render them useless."
Libre's eyes gleamed and said, "This is a city worth studying. My curiosity is already burning."
Caron thought this one was insane too.
Even after a battle fierce enough to turn rivers red with blood, Libre still found excitement in research.
"There's always insane people beside me," Caron muttered.
"That's high praise," Libre said with a faint smile.
"Forget it," Caron said. "Gratia, can you confirm the Lord's presence there?"
Gratia gave a solemn nod and answered, "Without doubt."
"I can feel the aura of the Demon King of Havoc too," she added.
Indeed, the taint of Havoc's power seeped from the city. Some districts seemed to already be locked in skirmishes, but nowhere near as intense as before.
"They've stopped swarming us like beasts," Caron noted.
Just hours ago, their assaults had been endless. But now, silence blanketed the battlefield. Under the ashen sky, Glory shone faintly, as though welcoming his arrival.
"So, what will you do now, oath-bearer?" Gratia asked quietly.
Caron shrugged and replied, "We go in. That's what we came here for."
"...Is your mind steady?" Gratia asked.
"A bit tangled," Caron admitted. "This world... What kind of place is it really? And why is Rael Leston doing... that?"
From the first question to the last, it was all a spiral of confusion. He couldn't understand why the Demon King of Void would create such a world at all.
The demons he had slain had all said the same thing with their dying breaths...
"O Liberator."
"We gladly die for your destiny."
Those who served Rael Leston called him the Demon King of Liberation. Caron wondered if that meant that in this world, Rael Leston was the Demon King of Liberation.
He also wondered why Seria was following Rael, and what happened to the rest of his companions.
Each thought created another, questions piling endlessly upon one another.
"Oat-bearer," Gratia said softly. "You look more troubled than I've ever seen you."
"You caught me," Caron admitted.
As they spoke, Gratia suddenly turned sharply toward the city, eyes narrowing.
Then...
Boom!
In an instant, her body expanded, transforming into her dragon form. She transformed into the magnificent dragon whose roar split the heavens. Her overwhelming presence rippled across the battlefield, and then her voice echoed within Caron's mind.
"Oath-bearer, stand behind me," Gratia said.
A golden dragon streaked through the sky toward them, wings gleaming with divine light. Gratia spread her wings wide, shielding Caron within them.
Moments later, a deep, resonant voice rolled through the air. "So it's you... Gratia."
"It's been a long time, Lord. But I don't think this is the time for pleasantries," Gratia replied evenly.
"I was ordered to bring you and your oath-bearer before me. There will be no further hostilities, so surrender peacefully—" the Dragon Lord began, but was cut off.
"Do we really need to listen to a senile old one, Lady Gratia?" Caron interrupted, stepping out from beneath her wings.
"You listened to the words of the Grand Saintess, did you not?" the Dragon Lord said.
"That's different," Caron replied flatly.
"And how, exactly, is it different?" the Dragon Lord asked.
"Doesn't matter. Just fire a breath at him," Caron said, smirking. "If he truly means to take us 'peacefully,' he won't mind taking one hit, right?"
"You're as insane as ever," Gratia rumbled.
"Thank you for the compliment," Caron said.
Whether swept up by Caron's madness or simply resigned to it, Gratia didn't hesitate. She turned toward the Dragon Lord and unleashed her breath without warning.