"Goodbye... my friend."
It was a gentle farewell ... one that soothed the shattered heart of old Shiva, who had no tears left to shed.
"Thank you... thank you..." she whispered, over and over again.
Frey patted her back softly before taking her hand.
"Come with me... and fight at my side once more, Shiva of Thorns. Our battle is not over yet."
At his call, Shiva wiped her tears and bowed firmly ... a response befitting an ancient warrior.
"Until my final breath... I will follow you, my king!"
"I know you will."
Hand in hand, they walked through the corridor, leaving the tomb behind together.
Frey moved slowly making no attempt to hasten his steps or use teleportation.
As though... time itself no longer demanded urgency.
It unsettled Shiva.
Yet she did not question him—she understood that her king had his reasons.
And she was right.
Frey was still stabilizing his existence... rebuilding his Aetheric power from the ground up.
From their pace alone, Shiva realized their destination.
They were heading toward the battlefield on Londor ...
Where Alexander Ryback clashed violently with Maskith, their battle shaking the very land.
"Shouldn’t we hurry to Earth... where the Demon King is?"
She asked out of pure curiosity—aware that Earth was the true battlefield now.
But Frey simply shook his head.
"There is no need. Agaroth would not dare face me in his current state."
"He knows... the odds of his defeat are far too high."
His voice turned cold ... lethal intent flooding it, a stark contrast to the warmth he had shown moments ago.
"Now that I have regained my power, he is no longer bound to Hellmond. Our last battle drained him... and facing me now would be suicide. He has already fled. By the time we reach Earth... he will be gone."
He raised his hand slightly, summoning his dominion over life and death.
"They are still within my grasp. I can restore them all with my current power."
"The war on Earth is over."
"All that remains... is to write its final Chapter ... and grant humanity their freedom after all they’ve endured."
He paused.
"...But first."
His violet eyes darkened, slowly... dangerously.
"We clean up the mess here on Londor."
With those words, Frey and Shiva advanced... Toward the battle that had already reached its peak.
...
...
...
—Londor, outskirts of the ancient tomb—
At the same time Gehrman entered the tomb, Alexander Ryback had taken it upon himself to face the pursuers alone.
He killed the assassin Vex swiftly, defeated Wesker ... even after the latter used Vayne’s body and the power of the King’s Shadow.
And now... only one remained.
The old man.
Maskith.
Who stood before him... watching with keen, calculating interest.
"Shadow Sect warrior... what is it you’re trying to protect?"
The old man’s voice drifted down calmly as he hovered above Alexander Ryback’s head.
"Who do you think will be born within that tomb? Your beloved king?
Or that human you forced to suffer? ...Or something else entirely?"
"Shut up and fight, old man. I have no answers for the likes of you!"
Alexander’s reply came through violence.
He erased the distance between them in less than a second, his fist already in motion ...
a detonating strike that unleashed yet another nuclear aura explosion.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
Blinding light consumed everything.
Maskith took the attack head-on, struck by a man who had devoted his entire life to martial mastery ... nothing else.
At the last instant, the old man conjured multiple barriers, stacking them between himself and the blow.
They shattered.
All of them.
The explosive force tore through every layer, sending Maskith flying hundreds of meters before he managed to stabilize himself midair.
"...Manipulation of life and death..."
Maskith raised his staff again as he saw Alexander charging once more, preparing a counterattack.
"Formation of a Thousand Souls."
With a single motion, the battlefield twisted...
and Alexander suddenly found himself trapped inside a colossal, dark formation.
A thousand raging souls manifested.
They surged toward him, screaming—raw, broken, filled with fury ...
slamming into his body one after another.
Each soul detonated upon impact, carrying within it an immense concentration of aura ...
enough to annihilate anything in its path.
Maskith unleashed them all.
A thousand simultaneous detonations.
The resulting explosion eclipsed even the blinding radiance of Alexander’s previous strikes, forming a massive, abyssal blast ...
a technique worthy of someone standing at the peak of SSS rank...
a finishing move meant to end battles instantly.
But Maskith’s eyes narrowed.
From within the storm of destruction... Alexander Ryback emerged.
Unscathed.
His jet-black metallic body stood perfect—untouched, unmarred ... not even a scratch.
His expression twisted into something monstrous, his gaze locked onto Maskith as killing intent surged like a storm within him.
"What... was that supposed to be, you damned old man?"
The second pillar of the Shadow Sect clenched his teeth, his fist tightening as he lunged forward again with savage force.
"You call that an attack?!"
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
Light erupted once more as Alexander threw another punch ...
but this time, he didn’t stop.
He struck again.
And again.
And again.
His fists blurred, hammering the air at a terrifying speed ...
hundreds of detonations unleashed within mere seconds.
From afar, Wesker watched, tension tightening his features as the sky itself was swallowed by those explosive strikes.
Each blow carried a devastating amount of aura ...
an attack that would have erased him from existence had he been caught within it.
Yet Maskith endured.
He slipped out of the strike zone, enveloped in a dark cocoon that shielded him from the relentless barrage.
"You’re a stubborn bastard... I’ll give you that."
Raising his staff once more, Maskith prepared his next move.
"Let’s see how much you can endure."
With a single sweep of his staff, he poured out his full power this time ...
summoning a colossal phantom of a woman that eclipsed the sky itself.
Her presence crushed the atmosphere.
A terrifying pressure descended, radiating overwhelming power.
Alexander Ryback did not hesitate.
He charged straight toward her, engulfed in a roaring beam of force—
meeting her head-on without the slightest trace of fear.
And in the next instant ...
They collided.
A cataclysmic clash erupted,
marking the beginning of a battle unlike anything the planet of Londor had witnessed in a very, very long time.