The crimson glow in the Upper First’s eyes flickered faintly, his instability now impossible to hide, as he found himself standing before another door.
A gate vastly larger than all the previous ones.
A dark gate forged from black iron.
"I do not understand... where am I now?"
"Where did that light lead me?"
Crimson stepped forward ...
only to freeze in place as the gate trembled and a magnificent light spilled through its cracks.
Then, slowly...
it began opening before him, revealing what lay beyond.
Crimson had wondered the entire time—
what exactly was that light?
Who had sent it to him?
Who possessed the power to manipulate the doors of the maze within this continent no one understood?
Someone capable of separating him from the others so effortlessly?
His heart was uneasy.
Tense.
As though something was terribly wrong.
But he had no choice except to continue.
To face whatever awaited him.
And the gate opened.
Within it, a silhouette emerged amidst the light.
Then the Upper First heard soft footsteps.
From them alone, he realized the approaching figure was not a man.
Her black dress scattered behind her like living shadows, stretching to cover her entire body, including her arms.
Her hands rested together before her as she walked with solemn elegance.
And soon—
their gazes met.
Crimson immediately looked away against his own will, unable to withstand looking directly into her eyes.
Because those were not eyes.
They resembled black gemstones illuminated by starlight itself.
As though an entire universe existed within them.
With a single glance, the Upper First understood—
she was no ordinary being.
"You look pitiful, Demon King."
Her cold voice sent chills through the Upper First, causing him to frown as he instinctively stepped back.
"What...?"
Confusion spread across his face after the woman addressed him as the Demon King.
But he was not the king.
He was the Upper First.
The king was Agaroth.
That was what Crimson believed.
"No."
"You are the true king."
"You were created to become one."
"But that filthy creature interfered and stole your destiny."
The woman spoke with disdain.
With disappointment.
"He stole it from you... yet you accepted it willingly and bowed to him of your own accord."
"In doing so, you abandoned the purpose entrusted to you."
Her voice carried unbearable weight.
And with every passing second before her, Crimson’s unease only deepened.
He raised Kingslayer toward her while retreating three hurried steps backward.
Then he asked harshly,
"Who are you?"
The woman answered with the same indifferent contempt.
"You already know the answer to that question."
The instant those words left her lips, the Upper First lunged forward.
He swung Kingslayer with everything he had, aiming to sever her neck—
because the ominous feeling within his heart had suddenly intensified.
As though invisible hands were crushing him alive.
He was injured.
Far from his best condition.
Yet he still gathered enough strength for at least one devastating strike.
And yet—
his eyes widened completely in shock when the woman stopped Kingslayer’s blade with two fingers alone.
No matter how much force he used—
he could not push them back even slightly.
"You dare raise your weapon... against your creator?"
Clea’s voice became even more terrifying.
Her second hand had already reached Crimson’s chest while the first casually restrained his spear.
Within her palm, a dark power formed—
a power unlike anything Crimson had ever witnessed before.
Then it exploded.
A beam erupted from her hand, piercing straight through his chest before bursting out from his back.
The Upper First was blasted backward and crashed violently onto the floor, a massive bloody hole pouring endlessly from his ruined chest.
He groaned in agony.
Kingslayer slipped from his grasp and crashed onto the ground with a thunderous metallic shriek—
as though the weapon itself mourned the fate of its master.
Crimson suffered.
Bled.
Then barely managed to turn his eyes, struggling desperately to remain conscious.
Clea slowly walked toward him.
And once she reached him, she stopped.
Looking down upon him coldly.
The First Writer slowly knelt.
Then held Crimson’s head between both hands, revealing a horrifying expression that planted fear deep within the Upper First’s heart.
"It is time to correct this disgusting mistake."
"And return you to the proper path."
After those words, the only sound echoing through the cold dark corridor was Crimson’s agonized screaming.
He screamed with everything he had as unbearable pain consumed him.
Black veins extended from Clea’s hands and pierced directly into his mind.
Dark lines spread across the entirety of the Upper First’s face.
His eyes rolled white from the sheer horror of what he endured.
He resisted desperately.
Resisted with everything he possessed.
But the First Writer was far too powerful.
Crimson screamed.
Howled like a mortally wounded beast whose fall could shake the world itself.
He screamed for a very long time.
Until eventually—
he became silent.
And stillness finally consumed the corridor.
Once she finished, Clea rose to her feet.
And Crimson rose as well.
But this time—
he knelt before her on one knee.
Lowered his head respectfully before her.
Clea stared at him silently for a moment.
Then she finally opened her mouth—
to issue her commands to the true Demon King.
"Go."
"Find him for me."
"Find the false king you served all these years... and use the power I granted you against him."
"Fight him."
"And show him the truth."
"The truth that he possesses nothing."
"Neither in this world... nor in the real one."
"He is nothing more than a creature that defied its creator."
"A creature born from a stolen tool."
"A thing trying to claim greatness while remaining incapable of escaping a pathetic material world."
Clea raised her hand slightly, a faint glow radiating from it.
"My patience has run out, Frey."
"I will kill him myself."
"And return both you and your father... so I may finally end this farce that has dragged on for far too long."
Clea’s voice carried absolute certainty as she issued her threat.
Then she stepped back through the gate—
after subjugating the Upper First in the cruelest way imaginable.
The mysterious continent had begun changing.
Countless new variables had entered the stage.
And the number of factions struggling within it continued to grow.
Because on that very night—
a dreadful dark existence appeared before the continent.
A creature carrying immeasurable power.
The monster that devoured everything...
Agaroth had entered the continent.
And with that ... a new Chapter began.
Its battlefield was a land caught between two worlds.
...
Author’s Note:
This marks the end of Volume 4: The Shattering.
And the beginning of Volume 5: The Land Between Two Worlds .