At the borders of the Ultras’ capital, Caelid, the Imperial forces had gathered, and the battle was now closer than ever before.
But on one of those long nights of preparation ..
amid the tightening siege surrounding the Ultras ..
something entirely different took place.
That night witnessed Sansa Valerion’s direct confession to Frey Starlight.
For the first time ever, she told him clearly—
"I love you."
For some reason, those simple words carried a weight Frey never expected—
a weight that struck deeper than he could have imagined.
Away from the rest of the army, holding her in his arms,
she still looked the same: her white hair, her black dress,
but her face... her face now resembled the human Sansa—the blonde-haired version she once was.
Frey had known for a long time about the feelings she harbored for him.
The Affection System was proof enough.
Sansa was the only one who had ever reached 100 points.
But words ..spoken aloud carried a truth far beyond any number.
And in that moment, Frey finally realized how unfair he had been to her,
how he had pushed her away when she needed him most.
It must have hurt her deeply.
She must have endured so much,
just to find the courage to express her feelings the right way.
And what had he done in return?
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Worse, he’d grown closer to Uriel Platini,
a girl who carried similar feelings toward him ..
enough that he had kissed her, unconsciously.
Even now, Frey Starlight had never truly felt anything
that could be called love for anyone.
And he was fully convinced of that.
His life .. his suffering .. had never allowed room for something like romance.
The pressure he carried was far too heavy.
Fighting to change his destiny,
challenging the giants who ruled the world’s summit...
these were the things that mattered more than anything else.
But that never gave him the right to ignore
what the girl before him had carried for so long ..
or what she was willing to sacrifice for him.
As Sansa cried softly in his arms,
something stirred within Frey’s heart.
For a fleeting moment,
the cold ice around it melted,
and his heartbeat quickened ever so slightly.
Those dull, fading emotions of his flickered back to life,
and he realized that what he felt for her
might run deeper than he had ever admitted to himself.
"I’m sorry... for keeping you away,"
Frey whispered, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
"To be honest, I still can’t say it the way you just did.
A half-hearted confession would be meaningless.
You deserve more than that... much more."
He smiled faintly,
then gently pushed her back against a nearby stone wall
until her body met the cold surface completely.
He wanted to tell her he loved her too,
but deep down, he knew the timing wasn’t right.
His emotions were still too faint, too clouded.
Even so, he was certain ..
what he felt for Sansa surpassed anything he’d felt for anyone else.
What was wrong with their old relationship?
What was wrong with the new one?
They had needed each other for so long.
They had lived for each other in their own way.
What was wrong with that?
Wasn’t that...
also a form of love?
"Yes... it is," Frey muttered with a faint, ironic laugh.
Sansa blinked in confusion.
"Frey, what are you—"
"There’s no need for words," he said quietly.
"I don’t think anything I say could express it properly."
"But instead..."
"I can do this."
Before she could react, Frey stepped forward suddenly ..
his body pressed harder against hers,
and his lips crashed into hers in a deep, consuming kiss she never saw coming.
No ..she had expected it, in some distant corner of her heart ..
but not like this.
Not with such raw force.
In that moment, Frey wasn’t thinking.
He wasn’t being rational.
He was simply acting on feeling—on the desire burning inside him.
A desire directed only toward her.
He kissed her for a long time ..
so long that when he finally pulled away,
Sansa gasped for air,
her face flushed crimson,
her thoughts scattered and chaotic.
Before she could even recover, Frey kissed her again ...
this time even deeper,
and it was no ordinary kiss.
For a while,
they forgot everything else ..
the war, the battles, the struggle for survival.
For that brief, fragile span of time,
they lived in a world of their own.
When Frey finally pulled back once more,
Sansa’s face was burning red.
Even with all her demonic strength,
her knees trembled, barely keeping her upright.
Seeing her like that only made Frey’s desire grow stronger.
"I could devour you whole right now..." he murmured.
And in that instant,
Sansa knew—
the night would be long.
As the two of them gave in to their emotions,
another night passed across the lands of the Ultras ..
a night burning with heat.
...
...
Far from Frey and Sansa,
back in the heart of the imperial camp,
the main command tent lay quiet and empty.
Inside, there were only two people.
Sir Alon Valerion .. and his son, Maekar.
The latter sat silently, his posture slouched.
He looked... different.
Tired.
Unsteady.
Unlike himself.
Sir Alon Valerion kept his eyes on his son the entire time.
His face was a mixture of anger and deep disappointment.
"To think my eldest .. my strongest would end up like this..."
He sighed, the weight of his words carrying both regret and exhaustion.
He had watched the growing madness in his son for years now.
Back when Maekar returned to the Empire during the Church’s invasion,
Sir Alon had personally gone after him ..
and what he found had been horrifying.
When Maekar discovered that the body of the man he had long been obsessed with was nowhere to be found,
he lost control completely.
In a blind frenzy, he attacked everyone around him, killing dozens with his own hands,
believing they had hidden the truth from him.
If Sir Alon hadn’t intervened that day,
Maekar would have unleashed a catastrophe upon the Empire itself.
Now, seeing what his family had become,
the Iron Emperor could feel nothing but anger.
Perhaps the only glimmer of hope left in the Valerion name rested on his grandson—
Aegon Valerion, the young prince currently leading their entire war camp.
Aegon was brilliant, sharp beyond his years.
A born commander .. both tactically gifted and ruthlessly pragmatic.
When he revealed his full power, it was formidable enough,
but what truly set him apart was his mind.
He was a better leader than any of them had ever been.
To Sir Alon, Aegon was the beacon of light ..
the future Emperor who would restore the Valerion legacy,
and cleanse the stain his father and predecessors had left behind.
Aegon was everything the family needed to survive ..
calculated, logical, and completely free from emotional weakness.
He did what needed to be done, no matter the cost.
To some, he might have seemed cold... even dark.
But to Sir Alon, he was exactly what this era required.
He was obsessed with one thing only:
keeping the Valerion name on top ..
above the Empire, above humanity, above everyone.
That was why, when he learned that Frey Starlight had tried to kill his grandson,
Sir Alon could not ..would not let it go.
Yes, Frey was humanity’s strongest ally,
a weapon unmatched, a savior in this brutal war.
But he was also a danger ..
one that could one day turn on them all.
At the start of the war, Frey’s strength had been comparable to an SS+ rank at best.
But now, near its end, his power had grown into something...
unquantifiable.
He had split the moon with his blade.
That alone was enough to prove that Frey now stood among the SSS-class beings—
a realm few could ever hope to reach.
He was more than just an ally.
He was a force of nature ...
and a force that no one could control.
A hero to some, perhaps.
But to Sir Alon, he was a loaded weapon aimed straight at his bloodline.
Because once the war was over...
Frey would come for Aegon again.
And when that happened,
Sir Alon doubted they could stop him.
At the hands of that monster named Frey Starlight,
the entire Valerion line could be wiped out.
And to Alon, that would be no different from losing the war itself.
An uncontrollable weapon is always the most dangerous one.
As the Iron Emperor brooded over possible ways to deal with Frey,
a third figure entered the command tent.
A familiar face.
It was Aegon Valerion himself.
"Aegon..."
Sir Alon frowned, while Maekar remained silent.
"Grandfather."
Aegon greeted him with his usual composed tone,
but Alon immediately questioned him.
"Where have you been? I’ve searched for you everywhere."
Aegon smiled faintly.
"I needed time to clear my thoughts—and to prepare our final battle plan.
The next assault will end the Ultras once and for all."
Hearing that, Sir Alon only nodded.
"Good. But try not to vanish on your own again—you’re the supreme commander now.
Your presence is vital."
"I understand," Aegon replied curtly, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"You seem troubled, Grandfather."
"Hah... how could I not be?" the old man muttered.
Aegon tilted his head, a knowing glint in his eyes.
"Is it because of Frey Starlight?"
Sir Alon’s expression said it all.
Aegon smirked.
"There’s no need to worry about him.
Focus on the Ultras.
As for Frey Starlight..."
He smiled .. a calm, confident smile that chilled the air.
"Leave him to me."
"I’ll handle him personally."
Sir Alon stared at his grandson in disbelief.
Frey Starlight ..
the monster who could single-handedly stand against the entire Empire.
But Aegon Valerion was not one to make empty claims.
At least for now,
the Iron Emperor chose to believe him.
And so, the two men sat together,
discussing the final strategy ..
the plan that would bring the war to its ultimate end.