Eligos's scream echoed across the field. Carmilla's golden chains constricted his limbs and torso, glowing tighter with every twitch.
His mana sparked as he tried to regenerate, mending torn flesh and shattered bone—but each time he tried to move, the chains got tighter. His eyesight returned only to be greeted by the figure who had punctured his eyes before.
Thalamik stepped forward, eyes cold and deadly, daggers spinning in his hands. "You wanted to observe? Then observe this."
In a flash, Thalamik became a whirlwind of blue.
His daggers tore through Eligos's demonic flesh, severing limbs, flaying muscle, carving through enchanted plate as if it were paper.
Thalamik dismantled Eligos, piece by piece, never once letting his eyes leave the Demon Lord Envoy's face.
Eligos's wounds knitted with impossible speed, flesh crawling back onto bone, only to be shredded anew.
Thalamik's strikes accelerated—ten, twenty, a hundred blows in the span of heartbeats.
"This is for our instructor. For every life you took. For every time you mocked us." His voice grew sharper, every syllable another cut.
"Stop—" Eligos managed, but the chains clamped his jaw shut.
Carmilla's eyes were pitiless. With a subtle flick of her staff, new chains erupted, snaking through Eligos's armor, constricting ribs, fusing joints together with divine light. Every time he healed, the chains burrowed deeper, drawing a ragged scream.
As wounds began to close, Thalamik's blades found new flesh to cut over and over again.
Raymed watched with Ezel gleaming in his hands. He strode forward, aura blazing, each step rippling with power. "It's time we end this."
Eligos, body a mangled ruin, tried one final desperate burst of energy. "I… am… the Demon Lord's… chosen—"
Mana swirled—crimson, blue, and green converging, spiraling into Ezel's blade. Raymed was quiet, cold, and absolute.
He can talk, but he omits nothing.
He was at the moment of pure rage.
He leapt.
The world slowed. Ezel flashed brighter than the sun.
"PLATINUM STAR OF HOPE—ULTIMATE EZEL!"
The strike hit like the wrath of the heavens.
Ezel cleaved through Eligos's body, shattering every layer of defense, every ounce of demonic regeneration. The Envoy's body erupted in a shockwave of light, his scream drowned by the final, overwhelming purity of their combined resolve.
Nothing of the figure remained—not armor, not blood, not even ashes—just a fading shadow.
Then a demonic core formed.
Carmilla lowered her staff.
Thalamik let his daggers drop.
Raymed stood over the scorched earth, Ezel's light fading.
"It's over," Carmilla said as she placed the seal on Eligos' demonic core.
***
Trish, Lulu, and Killiar walked toward Raymed, Carmilla, and Thalamik, broad smiles adorning their weary faces. Lulu's excitement was palpable as she hopped energetically around Trish, who broke into a sudden run.
Raymed and Carmilla braced instinctively, thinking the duo were aiming for them, but at the last moment, Trish veered off course and collided joyously with Thalamik, who was caught utterly unaware.
"You aren't half bad for a human, Fiend Kaiser!" Trish laughed, vigorously ruffling Thalamik's hair in a playful noogie.
Before Thalamik could protest, Lulu leaped onto him, hugging him tightly from behind. "Thank you for not letting us go, Thalamik. We really appreciate it! You're truly a good friend."
"SERIOUSLY, GET OFF ME! MY BODY HURTS!" Thalamik shouted, struggling futilely against their affectionate assault. His cries went ignored by both Trish and Lulu.
"AAA!!! BIG BRO IS OVER THERE!" a voice echoed excitedly. Besitulars charged toward the group with unstoppable enthusiasm, leaping into an enormous bear hug that toppled them all to the ground.
"OUCH! GET OFF!!" Thalamik howled beneath the chaotic pile, his voice muffled amidst laughter and groans.
Raymed and Carmilla exchanged amused glances, warmth and relief filling their expressions. A gentle hand fell upon both their heads. Killiar's calm, reserved voice broke through their brief reverie, tears welling subtly in her usually composed eyes.
"Thank you both for helping to protect this land I hold dear," Killiar said quietly, a rare display of vulnerability starkly contrasting her otherwise stoic face.
Raymed suddenly stiffened, sniffing the air as he recognized a familiar scent.
His gaze snapped beyond Killiar, landing upon a golden-haired figure slowly approaching, supported gently by Suiko. Kourin walked haltingly, Avalon—miraculously intact—in her right hand. Raymed's heart skipped as their eyes met.
Without hesitation, Raymed dropped Ezel to the ground and sprinted toward Kourin.
Noticing his approach, Suiko smiled knowingly and stepped aside, carefully taking Avalon from Kourin.
Kourin paused as Raymed stood before her, managing a tired yet genuine smile. "Thank you for fulfilling your promise," she whispered softly.
Raymed shook his head gently. "No," he countered firmly. "It was you who saved my life. I can never thank you enough for that."
"But…you were the one who…" Kourin's voice weakened as she stumbled forward.
"Kourin!" Raymed exclaimed, swiftly catching her.
"My body... it's still weak. I'm sorry," she murmured apologetically.
"I don't mind," Raymed reassured her warmly.
Kourin closed her eyes, gently pulling Raymed into an embrace. "Thank you again," she whispered, savoring their shared closeness.
Their embrace lingered before they reluctantly separated, each smiling shyly as they stepped apart.
Raymed returned bashfully to Carmilla, whose knowing grin only intensified his blush.
"So, are you two officially dating now?" Thalamik's teasing voice interrupted.
Raymed jumped in surprise. "Whoa! Since when were you free?"
"They were a tough crowd," Thalamik said, smirking confidently, "but naturally, I was stronger."
"Ah, I see," Raymed chuckled awkwardly. "And no, I haven't confessed yet."
"That's too bad. But hey, I've got something to tell her. Mind delivering it? I don't want to sound harsh," Thalamik whispered conspiratorially.
Raymed nodded, approaching Kourin once more.
As Raymed neared Kourin and Suiko, Thalamik suddenly shouted at the top of his lungs,
"KOUUURINNNN! RAYMED HAS A CRUSH ON YOU, BIG TIME!"
Kourin's face flushed scarlet, eyes wide with shock.
Raymed whipped around, glaring fiercely, mana flaring dangerously.
"YOU TWO SHOULD DEFINITELY DA—"
Thalamik's sentence was abruptly halted as Raymed's punch sent him flying like a missile straight toward Besitulars, Trish, Lulu, and Killiar. Thalamik crashed spectacularly into them, knocking everyone to the ground like bowling pins.
"STRIKE!" Carmilla exclaimed gleefully before reality hit. "THALAMIK!" She raced forward urgently to heal the tangled pile.
Raymed stood panting, calming down from his impulsive retaliation.
Beside Kourin, Suiko chuckled gently. "Ah, the passion of youth is so wonderful," she remarked, growing serious immediately. "Sadly, we don't have the luxury of indulging in this peace for long. The implications of today's battle will soon ripple outward. Many eyes will soon be upon us, especially considering the three Demon Cores we now hold."
The atmosphere grew solemn as footsteps approached. Cobalt, Thierus, Oryba, and Istar, the second-year Hero Candidates, approached the group cautiously, weapons in hand.
"Raymed the Chronic Eater, Thalamik the Fiend Kaiser, Carmilla the Saint," Cobalt stated formally, his voice authoritative. "By order of Celathis, we're instructed to bring you and everyone else here in for questioning."
An uneasy silence fell, signaling the end of one ordeal—and perhaps the beginning of another.
A tense silence choked the air as the Second-Year Hero Candidates blocked their path, weapons drawn.
A soft giggle was heard.
"As if threats would work. How idiotic," Thalamik's voice cut the standoff, now devoid of warmth.
He stepped forward, his aura swelling, casting a long shadow over the students.
Behind him, the Fiend Army materialized in a ring of gnashing teeth and hollow eyes, their numbers swelling until the heroes were entirely surrounded.
"I can still call for more," Thalamik announced, his gaze fixed on Cobalt, the self-appointed leader.
Mana pulsed from him in cold waves, distorting the very air. "Do you really think the four of you would be a threat to me? What kind of joke is that?"
Cobalt's confidence cracked; sweat beaded on his brow.
The others exchanged nervous glances as Thalamik's presence pressed in—implacable, suffocating.
"If you think threats like that will work, you'd better drop your weapons and grovel for mercy before I kill all of you without batting an eye." Thalamik's hands shimmered—two daggers formed, their edges crackling with mana.
His four elite friends—Black, Visha, Passete, Arcuest—stepped forward, weapons drawn, awaiting only a nod.
Everyone of the Second-Years froze in fear.
"DID I STUTTER?!" Thalamik's voice exploded, echoing through the ruined estate. The fiends tensed, ready to lunge.
Weapons clattered to the ground as the four heroes dropped to their knees, trembling. "Please come with us… Celathis… wanted to know what happened… She wished for you to—"
"My answer's still no." Thalamik seized Cobalt by the chin, forcing him to meet his gaze.
"Now, on the count of ten, you'd better scram, or I'll order my soldiers to gut you all like fish. I answer only to Director Diko."
"Ten…" Thalamik's voice was low and deadly.
Cobalt's face drained of color. "GO!" he shouted, scrambling to his feet. The others followed, fleeing before Thalamik had even reached six, vanishing into the battered landscape.
As calm returned, Thalamik turned and locked eyes with Suiko. "Thank you for helping. I know you must go."
Suiko nodded, a faint smile curving her lips. "It's true. Now that Kourin made a public appearance, and Alterity has been recorded, our employers will move to control us for disobedience."
Raymed's eyes widened. "That means—?"
"Yes," Suiko confirmed, "we'll be staying under the radar for a while."
Raymed turned to Kourin, worry softening his battle-worn face. "But… we'll meet again, right?"
Kourin looked away, hiding her own emotions. "If you make too much trouble like today, I'm not interested. But if it's just a stroll around town… I'll comply." She managed a shy, playful smile.
Suiko stepped forward, her gaze warm. Thalamik hesitated, then extended a hand. "Suiko, I'm grateful. You helped us when you didn't have to, even though it could cause you trouble. I promise I'll return the favor someday. It's been brief, but it was an honor to meet you… Teacher."
Suiko's amusement flickered in her eyes as she shook his hand. "I'll remember that, Kaiser. Next time I need a hand, I'll be sure to call you."
She glanced at her watch, then gently took Kourin's arm.
Kourin paused, glancing back. With a flick of her wrist, Ezel soared into her grip, while Avalon flew back to Raymed. "Till we meet again, Hero, keep my hair tie safe," she said softly with a smile, her voice echoing with promise.
Then, in a shimmer of mana, both she and Suiko vanished.
Raymed caught Avalon and smiled. He touched his wrist, which still had Kourin's hair tie.
Moments later, a battered wagon rumbled onto the scene, Dwargo and Director Diko clambering out with broad, satisfied grins.
"Well, I'll be damned—you all actually did it!" Dwargo whooped, pounding Thalamik on the back.
"Of course they did!" Diko declared proudly, hands on his hips. "They're my best students!"
Thalamik managed a weary smile, but his gaze drifted upward, searching the sky. The world had changed again—this time, because of them. He wondered, not for the first time, just how different everything would be from here on.
***
Someplace else,
A solitary table of living wood anchored the space, and around it sat the powers that shaped the world's fate.
Fey King Oberon lounged in his seat, golden curls and leaflike raiment shimmering with fey glamour, his smile unreadable.
At the opposite end sat Grand Saint Veuz, garbed in white and silver, her gaze steady, hands folded in patient mediation.
Borreas, the Firstborn King, his wolven features stern and unyielding, armor traced with demi-human runes, loomed over the proceedings.
Alayars the Spirit Origin, luminous and incorporeal, drifted at the table's edge—a being both there and not, eyes ageless as the wind.
Their voices overlapped with quiet urgency.
"Who was the blonde-haired woman?" Borreas demanded, voice gruff but wary. "And the blue-haired woman who vanished at the same time? Our intelligence reports note that both intervened in the battle at critical moments. The Chronic Eater's power spiked after contact with the blonde."
Oberon's smile curled with amusement. "Yes, I saw her. She appeared as if summoned by fate itself. The aura she exuded was not of this world." He leaned back, fingers steepled. "And as for Carmilla—she stopped Vepar's Transformed attack. A feat beyond any Saint-class magic recorded before this era. Or so we thought, I do have a clue who she actually is."
Alayars's form flickered, voice as distant as a mountain wind. "These anomalies threaten the balance. The demonic cores must not fall into the wrong hands. My suggestions would be to destroy them. Let their taint perish, and let us seal the remnants beneath the United Front's deepest vaults. Artifacts made from such evil can only bring calamity."
Borreas's fist thudded against the table. "That is short-sighted, Spirit. These cores could be used as trackers, leading us to other scattered artifacts. We should divide them among our armies—use them to hunt the true relics that may yet lie dormant. Power unclaimed is power lost."
Oberon's laugh echoed through the round table. His eyes twinkled, and his voice was sly. "And why not forge real artifacts ourselves, firstborn? Let us fey take all the cores. We could fashion weapons or wonders unseen since the Merge. Once the work is done—if the risk is too great—we destroy what remains." He paused, voice dropping to a murmur. "Or perhaps… we simply use them to find even greater treasures. The choice is ours."
Grand Saint Veuz raised her hand, stilling the others. "Even if our leaders come to an agreement, distributing the demonic cores among the people will cause chaos. Old wounds would reopen, and every faction would covet them."
"Very well, what are you suggesting, Grand Saint Veuz?" Oberon asked with a sly smile.
"If we cannot trust one group with all, why not each take a core? One for fae, one for spirits, one for demi-humans. Each is responsible for their own fate."
Oberon smiled, "Interesting, then what of mankind?"
Grand Saint Veuz smiled and said, "My terms are simple: Fey, Spirits, and Demi-Human shall not interfere in demanding answers to the details of what happened at the battle against Vepar."
"Hahaha." Oberon laughed, "Then is the demonic core some sort of bribe for us?"
Veuz didn't answer, holding her smile.
"What say the two of you, Alayars and Borreas?" Oberon played around with a little moth he summoned.
Borreas sighed and said, "I personally think that-"
"That would not be fair."
All four turned as the chamber's doors whispered open.
In strode a regal figure clad in a black-blue gown, a crown of silvered frost upon her brow, her presence suffocating. Snow-white hair cascaded behind her, tied with a single black ribbon. Her gaze, icy and imperious, swept the table.
Oberon's smile brightened, admiration in his tone. "Hahaha… I never imagined you would come here, Morgwynevere. This is an honor."
Veuz's eyes gleamed with recognition. "I see. Then you are undoubtedly…"
The woman's voice froze the room. "I am the Leader of the High Humans. Queen Morgwynevere."
As she spoke, her mana twisted the very fabric of the chamber, pressure mounting, shadows stretching along the walls. Even Oberon sat up straighter, his fae charm failing before such raw, ancient power.
Queen Morgwynevere's lips curved in a hint of demand. "A High Human aided in your victory tonight. It is only right that I claim all of it."
The four representatives exchanged glances—distrust, curiosity, and fear mingling in the air.
"Hahaha, such vile demands." Oberon laughed sarcastically as he caressed a black ring on his finger.
***
Diko and Grand Saint Veuz swiftly stepped in to quell any rising tensions following the confrontation.
Together, they reassured all parties, diplomatically persuading them not to pursue intrusive questioning.
Celathis, realizing the gravity of their intervention, promptly rescinded the order to question Raymed, Thalamik, and Carmilla along with their allies.
Instead, a message was quickly dispatched, celebrating the trio and formally extending the Academy's gratitude and recognition.
A grand coronation-like event was arranged within the serene splendor of Veuz's sanctuary. The occasion was broadcast across the world, highlighting the immense significance of their victory. Grand Saint Veuz stood gracefully in a radiant white gown, her pure white hair shimmering under a glowing crown of light, her golden eyes calm yet powerful.
Raymed was called first. Veuz stepped forward, her voice resonant and warm. "Raymed, your courage and unwavering dedication to protecting all lives have opened a new chapter for our world. Thanks to your actions and efforts, relations between the High Humans and the United Front have now been established. It is my honor to bestow upon you this artifact—Blastur, the Sword of Light, an artifact weapon. A blade that has chosen you as its true wielder." Veuz moved her fingers as a Sword levitated downward from the ceiling towards Raymed's hand.
"From this day forth, you shall no longer be merely a hero candidate. Raymed, you are officially declared a full-fledged Hero. Raymed, The Hero of United Front."
The audience erupted in thunderous applause, cheers echoing joyfully through the sanctuary as Raymed raised the platinum sword high, beaming with pride and excitement. Carmilla and Thalamik exchanged proud smiles as they watched from the sidelines.
Next, Thalamik approached. Veuz's voice took on an admiring tone. "Thalamik, your timely actions saved countless lives, including those of the Lupache army. Your Fiend Army, formidable and intimidating though it may be, has served the greater good of all."
"Thus, I grant you the esteemed status of Special Auditor. You may freely pursue any classes to further hone your exceptional skills. Furthermore, in recognition of your service, the Lupache family has nominated you as Duke of a small area within their estate—and proposed you to be wed to Trish Il Lupache."
The crowd erupted once more, louder still, until Thalamik's voice sharply interrupted, "I double refuse!"
Veuz, smiling gently at his outburst, replied with amusement, "You can sort that out directly with Trish Il Lupache's father."
Finally, Carmilla was summoned forth. Veuz's eyes softened as she spoke. "Carmilla, your selflessness and unwavering support have made victories possible, proving your essential role far beyond mere healing. Thus, you are now formally granted the title of Saint. From this day forward, you are recognized globally as Saint Carmilla, my direct subordinate and a beacon of hope and compassion."
In an unprecedented gesture, Veuz stepped down from her throne and embraced Carmilla warmly. "You have contributed immensely, Carmilla. For all your greatness and kindness, I thank you sincerely from the bottom of my heart, Saint Carmilla."
The sanctuary filled once more with resounding applause, marking a historic celebration and an unforgettable moment for the trio.
That moment, The Hero, The Kaiser, and The Saint had finally been born.