Before I could even react, molten metal lashed around my body like living chains, constricting me in its searing grip.
In the blink of an eye, it hurled me skyward, slamming me into the ceiling so hard I felt it crack beneath my back.
The air was knocked from my lungs. I couldn't even scream.
Before I could even fall, Death's power yanked me back again—my body spinning through the air like a broken doll.
My stomach lurched, bile rising in my throat, and all I could think was that I was going to vomit before I died.
And then—he let go.
My body slammed into the wall, hard enough to splinter stone.
"Ah—" The sound escaped me as nothing more than a whisper. I couldn't even cry out anymore.
Then the wall let me go, and I plummeted.
The ground came up fast and brutal, and when I hit, all I could do was lay there— staring up at the cracks in the ceiling, unable to move, unable to breathe, wishing I could just fade away right here.
What the hell was wrong with me?
Why... why was I this weak?
From somewhere in the distance, I heard Death's voice, cold and mocking, cutting through the haze in my mind.
"Is that really all you've got, Arche?"
I could barely hear him. The words sounded so far away.
Damn it... I'm dead.
The thought settled heavy in my mind, colder than the blood pooling beneath me.
...Well. At least I tried.
Maybe—just maybe—if I die here, someone else will come.
Maybe they'll finish what I couldn't.
Maybe someone-anyone-will be strong enough to stop Death.
But no... no, that's a lie.
They're all already too tired. Too broken.
This... this is my defeat.
It ends here.
And yet—
...Why does my heart still scream like this?
Why does every shattered, beaten, humiliated piece of me still refuse?
I don't want to die like this.
Not like this.
My head lolled to the side, weak, heavy...
...just in time to see him.
Death stood there, wreathed in his impossible power, his pale fingers closing around something—something red, wet, beating faintly still.
A heart.
And then he crushed it.
The sound was sickening—wet and final—and it echoed in my mind louder than the roar of any battle.
Valth's...?
That sound. That awful sound.
I felt something in me snap.
And all I could think about... was Valtherion.
The man who I'd always believed treated me like nothing more than an experiment.
The one who shoved me into fire and steel in the name of "perfection."
Who broke me over and over again to make me stronger.
And yet...
It turns out... he wasn't so cruel after all.
It turns out... he was just a man trying desperately to save this broken world.
It turns out... he was a father who loved his daughter—my mother—more than his own life.
It turns out... he even managed to smile, to laugh, when fighting alongside me.
It turns out...
He thought of me as his proud, beloved grandson.
Even now, bleeding, broken, defeated... I couldn't help but let out a weak, bitter laugh.
Who would've thought?
Funny, isn't it?
How the truth always comes out... in ways you never expect.
Lying here, broken and bleeding, staring at the ceiling of this hellish throne room... it finally hits me.
...Ah.
I really am an idiot.
Giving up here? Just like this?
If I die now—if I let myself fade away here, like some pathetic footnote—how the hell could I ever face them?
My father...
My grandparents...
If I meet them on the other side, what the hell am I supposed to say?
That I died because I gave up?
That I... stopped fighting?
They'd tear me to pieces for being such a coward.
They'd laugh in my face and curse my name for throwing everything away.
So...
If that's the case—
If they're still watching—
Then there's only one thing left to do.
I'll just have to keep moving.
Even if my legs break, I'll stand.
Even if my hands shatter, I'll grip my blades.
Even if my heart cracks, I'll keep it beating through sheer will.
I'll keep fighting.
I'll keep going...
Until the day I really, truly die.
And not a damn moment sooner.
I reached for the bottle—the potion swirling inside like liquid light.
The glass didn't even crack when I hit the ground earlier; it was forged from some kind of special crystal, unbreakable even under all this chaos. And thankfully... I still had plenty of it left.
I uncorked it and downed the whole thing. The healing warmth spread through my veins almost instantly.
My torn flesh began knitting itself back together, the pain fading just enough for me to breathe again.
Slowly—trembling, shaking, still scared out of my damn mind—I forced myself back to my feet.
My legs barely held me up. Every instinct in me screamed to run, to drop my blades and crawl away like a coward.
But no.
I couldn't let that fear win.
Not here. Not now.
I drew my dual blades, feeling their weight steady my hands as I raised them into position.
Death turned, his cold eyes narrowing as he noticed me rise. He'd already started to turn his back on me, already written me off as defeated. But now... a faint smile curved his lips.
"You can still stand?" he said, his voice darkly amused. "I thought you'd already given up."
I bared my teeth at him in a crooked grin.
"Think I'd crumble?" I growled, my voice low and defiant.
Then I raised my head, my grin widening into a snarl, and shouted loud enough for the whole damn world to hear:
"You think I'd lay down and die?! No—NOT I! I WILL SURVIVE!"
My legs burned as I surged forward, pushing my body to its limit, my speed climbing higher and higher with every step.
After all... he was the one who taught me to run faster. To move like lightning.
And then—they came.
Metallic arrows, dozens of them, whistling through the air like a deadly storm, all aimed at me.
I didn't flinch. I didn't even slow down.
My blades flashed, cutting them from the air, deflecting them to the floor with a spray of sparks. The arrows clattered harmlessly around me as I kept moving.
After all... I'd been through worse.
I'd trained for this—trained to stand my ground even under a hundred arrows raining down on me then slicing the last arrow from the air.
And with that—I kept charging.
Then—they came.
Dozens of metal constructs erupted from the ground, their hollow eyes gleaming as they marched toward me in perfect, lifeless unison.
I didn't hesitate.
I charged headlong into them, my blades singing through the air as I cleaved the first head clean off—the body crumpling to shards of steel and sparks at my feet. Then another.
And another. Each head I severed left nothing but wreckage in my wake.
But before I could catch my breath—the floor shook.
A colossal hammer came crashing down, aiming to flatten me like an insect. I dove out of the way just in time, the impact splitting the ground where I'd stood.
And then—spears. Dozens of them shot out of the earth, lunging at me from every angle like fangs trying to skewer me alive, to turn me into some grotesque little dango.
I didn't stop.
I leapt, vaulting over the spearheads, flipping and twisting through the storm of steel.
Then came the blade—a massive sword, its point descending for my skull.
I dropped low and slid under it, feeling the wind from its edge as it cut through empty air above me.
And then—the ground itself came alive.
A swirling mass of liquid metal shot up, writhing like some monstrous tentacle, trying to bind me where I stood.
I sprang upward at the last second, and the liquid struck the wall instead, splattering harmlessly, landing in a crouch.
I couldn't help but remember.
All those days on the road with them—when every night, without fail, they'd make me spar against them one by one. Or sometimes... all at once.
Nine against one.
At first, I lost every time. Over and over again, I was beaten into the ground, humiliated, broken.
But slowly... painfully... I started to catch up.
I learned.
And one day—I actually beat them.
And when I did, I'll never forget the way they all smiled at me.
Wide, proud smiles, as if they'd been waiting for me to stand tall all along.
From those brutal of training... I learned more than I ever thought I could.
And now—all of it was paying off.
I grabbed one of the spears from the ground, its weight solid in my hand, and sprinted toward the nearest wall.
With a burst of speed, I leapt—my boots caught the wall's surface, and for a few heartbeats I ran across it, barely holding my balance.
Then gravity caught up.
I began to fall—but before I hit the ground, I hurled the spear straight at Death with every ounce of force I could summon.
But Death simply raised a hand and erased it.
Of course. It was his creation, after all.
But then—he flinched.
A thin cut traced itself across his ear. His eyes narrowed as he turned—just in time to see another spear spinning through the air toward him.
A second throw. A realthrow. One he didn't see coming.
Without slowing down, I reached for more of Death's discarded spears—heavier than they looked, but I didn't care.
One after another, I launched them at him, my arms screaming with effort, my breath growing shorter with every throw.
Death batted most of them away - others simply vanished midair. But not all.
Another spear grazed his cheek, carving a shallow red line across his face.
He didn't look amused.
"You've got impressive stamina," Death remarked, eyes fixed on me now.
I exhaled sharply, my chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.
"Yeah... someone taught me how to build it up," I replied, my voice hoarse but steady.
I tightened my grip on another spear, sweat running down my temple.
Then he appeared.
A massive knight of solid metal, his hulking frame glinting in the light, wielding an enormous greatsword with both hands.
Step by step, he advanced toward me, each footfall a deep, resonant thud.
When he swung, it was like a falling guillotine, the blade screaming through the air toward my head.
I raised my dual blades just in time, catching the full force of his strike. The impact rattled my bones, but I held, gritting my teeth, pushing back with every ounce of strength I had.
With a roar, I shoved upward.
The knight's arms shot skyward, his massive sword carried with them-and in that split-second opening, I struck.
My blade drove straight into his faceplate, sinking deep with a metallic crunch.
The knight froze-then shattered into a rain of jagged shards, clattering to the ground at my feet.
I looked up.
Death was watching me from above, his expression unreadable—but his eyes... those cold, pitiless eyes still saw me as nothing more than an insect struggling at his feet.
"Heh... So this is all? After a thousand years, you're nothing more than this?" My grin widened, cruel and mocking. "How... underwhelming."
Death let out a low, rumbling laugh that sent chills down my spine. His blue eyes glinted with something dark-a promise of pain.
"Very well, then," he said, his tone calm, almost silky—but underlined by quiet menace.
"If you insist, pitiful human... I'll show you what it means to provoke a dragon."
And then the ceiling above me erupted.
Dozens—no, hundreds—of massive spears materialized, blotting out the sky, their polished metal tips catching the light as they began to descend all at once.
The world seemed to slow as I threw myself into motion, weaving through the deadly rain, scanning desperately for a gap.
The spears slammed into the floor like thunderbolts, sending shards of stone flying.
But something was wrong-the moment they struck, the metal tips began to melt, spreading into pools of molten silver that oozed across the ground.
My stomach sank.
If that liquid touched me, I was finished-I could already feel the heat radiating from it, see the way it clung to everything it touched.
I leapt, catching onto the shaft of one still—standing spear, climbing it as fast as I could while the metallic flood rose beneath me.
Below me, the floor was vanishing into a shimmering silver sea.
One misstep... and I'd be trapped, powerless.
And Death was still smiling.
The spears vanished, along with the molten metal that had flooded the floor. I let myself drop, falling back to the ground below.
As the air screamed past me, I fired my grappling hook to slow the fall-but Death was faster.
With a flick of his wrist, he severed the cable midair.
My body slammed into the ground like a stone, the impact sending a white-hot shock of pain through me.
I could feel it—bones snapping, something deep inside me breaking.
Through gritted teeth, I forced my trembling hands to uncork another vial. The healing potion burned down my throat, its magic stitching my shattered frame back together.
Death's gaze was on me now-sharp, knowing. He'd figured it out. He knew how much I depended on these potions. Without them... I'd already have been dust.
He raised his hand.
And then came the onslaught.
Massive chunks of metal rained from above, one after another, falling like meteors.
I darted forward and leapt onto one midair, landing hard on its surface, then sprinted across it before leaping to the next, and the next, bounding from one deadly projectile to another.
"Don't be a coward and—"
Before I could finish, a colossal hand—a massive, shimmering metal palm—materialized right in front of me.
"Ah—!"
It struck me hard, slamming me against the wall, pinning me there like an insect under glass.
I groaned, my ribs screaming in protest as the crushing weight pressed down on me.
But then... Death stiffened.
He froze.
Because he felt it—something behind him.
He turned just as I appeared in a shimmer of light, teleporting directly onto his shoulders, both blades in hand.
With a snarl, I drove one blade into his neck. Blood sprayed in an arc, crimson splattering against the steel floor.
Death's expression finally cracked—a faint grimace of pain twisting his features as he reached up, clawing for me.
But I didn't give him the chance.
I kicked off his shoulders and dropped back to the ground, landing in a crouch.
I glanced back up, watching the thick stream of blood trailing down the back of his neck where my blade had bitten deep.
I let out a breath, a faint, satisfied smile tugging at my lips.
"So... the back of the neck isn't your weak spot after all," I murmured.
Still, watching that blood flow...
It was enough.
Death's fingers brushed the wound at his neck, smearing his own blood across his pale skin. Then his gaze snapped to me—sharp, cold, predatory.
It was enough to make my knees buckle. I nearly dropped to the ground under that sheer, suffocating pressure.
"Enough playing around," Death said, his voice low, unamused.
I forced a bitter laugh, even though my chest tightened. "Heh. Every villain says that right before they turn into a headline that lasts three days... tops," I shot back, my words edged with mockery.
But before I could even grin—
Two massive, shimmering hands shot in from both sides, so fast the air howled as they closed in.
I bolted, forcing my legs to move, sprinting with everything I had. I almost made it—almost slipped free—but pain ripped through my leg as it was caught and crushed.
I screamed through clenched teeth, stumbling forward.
"I'll make sure you're not even worth three days," Death said behind me, his tone like ice. "You'll be a one-day tragedy. A meaningless accident."
Rage flared in my chest, and I yanked my leg free with a roar of pain, the pressure finally giving way.
I ran—limping now, every step agony—but still moving, still alive.
That's when the spears came.
They erupted from the ground all around me, forming a deadly ring, their points gleaming as they lunged inward.
I drew my dual blades in a flash, parrying, deflecting—metal on metal, sparks flying as I fought desperately to keep them at bay.
But they were too many.
Each strike tore into me-a cut across my ribs, another deep in my thigh, another slicing my shoulder, then one raking my chest.
I staggered, blood running down my body as the circle closed tighter.
With trembling hands, I reached for my healing potion—but then came the shadow.
Overhead, a colossal metallic hand materialized, fingers curling as it came crashing down to crush me like an insect.
I threw myself backward at the last second, diving just outside the hand's crushing radius.
The shockwave still hit me, rattling my teeth, knocking the wind out of me.
From behind me, I felt it—the ground shuddered with every step, heavy and deliberate.
When I turned, my blood ran cold.
A massive metal giant was chasing me down, its hulking frame gleaming in the dim light, each step shaking the floor beneath my feet.
I ran.
Every muscle screamed as I pushed myself forward, my limp making every stride clumsy, uneven—but I didn't stop. I forced my legs to move. To survive.
The giant swung its colossal blade at me with terrifying speed, the air howling as it came down like an avalanche.
I jumped—feet finding the edge of its blade just in time.
The steel sang under my boots as I sprinted along its length, then climbed—climbing higher, hand over hand, running up the slope of its weapon toward its shoulder.
It thrashed, trying to shake me off, but I held on, my fingers gripping the metal seams as I pulled myself up, step by step.
Finally—my feet planted squarely on its massive shoulder.
And there it was.
A small crystal embedded in the metal, faintly glowing.
I didn't hesitate.
With all the strength I had left, I drove one of my blades deep into it, the point sparking as it pierced through.
The golem howled—an unholy, metallic wail that rattled through the entire room.
I pushed harder, burying the blade to the hilt, feeling the crystal crack and splinter beneath me.
Then—a sharp shatter.
I heard it break... and at the same time, heard my blade snap in two.
"Tch..." I hissed through gritted teeth, glaring at the ruined hilt in my hand.
I didn't have time to dwell on it.
I launched myself down, sliding along its massive arm as the giant's body began to come apart—pieces of metal groaning and splitting as it disintegrated from the shoulders down.
I hit the wooden floor just as the golem collapsed behind me, its corpse crashing into nothing but a heap of shattered steel.
Breathing hard, I looked down at my hand.
One blade left.
Before I even had the chance to turn back to Death, a brutal foot smashed into my chest, hurling me like a ragdoll into the wall with a deafening crack.
I reached for my potion—but the floor itself betrayed me, as jagged metal spikes erupted upward, chasing me like a swarm of fangs.
I sprinted, each breath a gamble, knowing even the slightest lapse in focus meant I'd be skewered alive.
Then, out of nowhere, a monstrous iron axe manifested in midair, swinging down to cleave me in two.
I dove, sliding hard across the ground, my heart hammering as I felt the icy blade slice nothing more than a single strand of my hair.
But Death wasn't done yet.
A barrage of gigantic metal arrows materialized overhead, each one as thick as a spear, casting shadows over me. Then they rained down, screaming through the air.
Armed with only a single blade, there was no way I could parry them all.
One of them struck home.
The arrow slammed into my stomach, white-hot pain ripping through me as blood sprayed.
Gritting my teeth, I roared and tore the arrow out with both hands, the agony nearly dropping me to my knees.
Desperate, I snatched a pouch from my belt and reached inside for one of my last effective potions—but even that hope was ripped from me.
Another arrow fired with surgical precision, striking the pouch midair and sending it spinning away before it was swallowed by Death's writhing liquid metal.
Death conjured a massive hand of molten metal, snatching the pouch from midair and tossing it high like it weighed nothing.
Before it could even fall back down, he forged two colossal hammers from his liquid arsenal and smashed the pouch mid-flight, shattering it along with every last healing potion inside.
The metal hand caught the shredded remains effortlessly and flung them aside like trash.
I froze, staring in disbelief—my only healing potions were gone, obliterated before my eyes.
Slowly, I turned my gaze to Death. He still floated there, calm, composed, not even winded, as though this whole spectacle had been child's play.
"...You scaly vermin," I muttered under my breath.
Death's laugh rumbled through the air, cold and cruel.
"And you... pathetic human."
That's when it hit me.
A strange, suffocating presence—like two invisible hands pressing down on me, clawing at my body, threatening to crush me where I stood.
I spun around. Nothing. Not a single thing was there.
But the feeling... it was real.
Every instinct in my body screamed at me to stay alert, to run, to fight—but for what? Nothing was even attacking me...
I turned my eyes back to Death.
I couldn't believe it—the sheer terror, the icy dread in my veins... it was just him. Just being there, he could make me feel like prey about to be devoured.
Death raised his hand, and from the seething molten metal, a swarm of humanoid figures emerged—grotesque soldiers of steel, their featureless faces glinting as they closed in on me from all sides.
I struck first, slashing clean through one of them, its body splitting apart with a metallic shriek.
But before I could catch my breath, one of them lunged from behind, spinning me violently and locking its cold, iron grip around my wrist before slamming me hard into the ground.
I barely had time to recover before the rest of them descended—a merciless storm of stomping feet, pounding into me over and over.
I could feel my bones creaking, threatening to shatter under the relentless weight of dozens of metal soldiers trampling me like an insect.
Through sheer desperation, I reached up, grabbed one of them by the arm—and in a flash of instinct, twisted and swapped places with it, slipping out of the mob unnoticed.
They didn't even realize I was gone. Those mute, mindless things just kept crushing their own as I crawled out of the chaos.
I rose to my feet, grabbed another by the leg, and spun its entire body like a deadly flail—sweeping through the pack and knocking them away in a violent circle of destruction.
Then, with a roar, I hurled the limp metal soldier I was holding into the others charging toward me, sending them crashing to the ground in a heap of tangled limbs and screeching steel.
But before I could even catch my breath—pain exploded in my back.
One of them had crept behind me and driven a razor-sharp spike of metal straight through me.
"Argh, fuck..." I hissed, whipping around and slicing its arm clean off in a single, furious strike.
And then—silence.
One by one, the metal soldiers dissolved into nothingness, fading into the air as if they'd never existed.
I knew. I knew Death wasn't done yet.
When I turned around... my blood ran cold.
Behind him, an entire arsenal of nightmares floated in midair—hundreds, maybe thousands of weapons forged from his molten will, hanging in the sky like the claws of some vengeful god.
And then... with a single, almost casual wave of his hand... hell descended.
The sky screamed as a storm of bullets and blades tore toward me, ripping through the air, each one carrying enough force to obliterate a man outright.
I threw myself into the storm, blade flashing, hands moving faster than instinct—but I was hopelessly outmatched.
I only had one blade left. Just one.
And it wasn't enough.
Round after round slammed into me, ripping into my arms, my sides, my legs—blood spraying in every direction as I was pushed back, my strength failing, my screams drowned by the roar of the onslaught.
Then it happened.
A final, devastating barrage struck my blade—and with a sickening metallic shriek, it shattered into pieces in my hands.
My eyes went wide in disbelief as the shards scattered to the ground—and then the bullets found me again.
A dozen tore through my chest at once, lifting me clean off my feet and throwing me like a ragdoll into the dust.
I slammed behind a massive stone pillar, gasping like a dying animal, blood pouring from wounds I'd already lost count of.
I had nothing. No blade. No hope. No strength.
I wished I could just go home.
But deep down, I knew-no one walks away from Death alive.
I peeked from behind the crumbling pillar, my vision blurred with red, just in time to see him—still floating effortlessly, his black silhouette framed by the swarm of weapons that still circled him like a halo of death.
He raised his hand again—and unleashed a blast so massive it swallowed the world in white.
The pillar I clung to detonated in an instant, collapsing into dust and shards of stone.
I ran. Or at least, I tried to. My legs buckled, dragging me forward like some broken marionette as rubble rained down behind me.
My chest felt like it was on fire—I could feel the blood bubbling inside, crawling up my throat.
I stumbled, fell to my knees, and vomited a thick spray of crimson onto the shattered floor.
Everything hurt. Everything screamed. My lungs burned. My ribs felt shattered.
This was it.
Even now... Death didn't even look tired.
And me?
I had already reached my limit.
"...It's time."
I panted heavily, every breath like fire in my lungs, my vision swimming from blood loss.
But my fingers curled tight around the shimmering stones in my pocket-my last trump card.
I pulled one out—a glowing green teleport gem. Only five left now.
My hand brushed against my other pants pocket, feeling the dozens more hidden inside, and a faint, grim smile crossed my face.
Across from me, Death tilted his head ever so slightly, his cold, calculating eyes narrowing. Curious. Wondering what pitiful trick I thought I could possibly pull off.
Then—in the blink of an eye—I vanished.
Death's expression flickered, ever so slightly, in surprise.
But before he could even move-he felt it.
A strange heat across his back.
His eyes darted down just in time to see a cluster of crimson gems plastered all over his spine, pulsing ominously.
Then I reappeared—this time in front of him.
Without wasting a heartbeat, I slammed more gems into his chest, sticking them all the way down his abdomen like a deadly chain.
Death staggered back, genuinely caught off guard for the first time. He reached up to tear them away—but they didn't budge.
His eyes flashed, confused. Almost... impressed.
But I wasn't finished.
I teleported again—reappearing at his right flank—and rammed even more gems into his arm and hand.
Another blink—and I was at his left, slamming gems into his other arm, all the way down to his palm.
Every motion was precise. Every strike deliberate.
In the space of a heartbeat, his entire body glittered with the sinister glow of my gems—a net of crimson light slowly tightening around him.
Finally, with one last deep breath, I pulled my final gem from my pocket.
And with a flash, I teleported far, far below, to the very edge of the battlefield, putting as much distance as I could between us.
There I stood, blood dripping from my lips, my body barely holding together—but my eyes burned as I stared up at him.
"What are these gems you've planted on me, Arche?" Death's voice cut through the heavy silence, calm yet edged with a hint of genuine curiosity.
I sneered, my breath ragged but my grin wide. That gem? Oh, I got it from the black market.
I didn't just buy one or two—I bought out the entire goddamn stock.
Why? Because deep down I knew... these little jewels would be worth every drop of blood tonight.
That gem wasn't just any shiny rock. No.
It was a detonation gem. A cursed crystal that, once latched onto human flesh, couldn't be removed—unless you were willing to rip the very skin and muscle it clung to.
Death stood there, shirtless, his body exposed, making it all too easy to plant those gems all over him like deadly ornaments.
They didn't stick to me, of course. My gloves, which I'd been wearing even before I came in to this damned organization, kept me safe from their sinister touch.
Dangerous?
Ha! These gems were apocalyptic. Their price was obscene, enough to bankrupt a king... but I didn't care. I bought them all for a night exactly like this.
I kept grinning at Death, even as my chest heaved and my lungs screamed. "You really think I'd tell you what you're wearing? Don't make me laugh!"
Slowly, I pulled out another gem, this one glowing with a wicked golden light. This... this was the trigger.
The key that would turn all those lovely little gems on his skin into an inferno of carnage.
I staggered forward, my grin widening to a madman's smile as Death's eyes widened in startled confusion.
I inhaled sharply, raised the golden gem high, and roared into the air—
"A R M A G E D D O N !!!"
And with a shattering CRACK, I crushed the golden gem in my fist—
...and all hell broke loose.
A thunderous explosion ripped through the air.
I was already dragging Valth's limp body out of that cursed room when the roar of destruction echoed behind me, a deafening symphony of fire and stone.
My heart pounded like a war drum as I crouched on the stairway, waiting—just waiting—for the blast to finally subside.
When silence, heavy and wet, settled once more, I laid Valth gently on the steps.
My fingers trembled as I reached for the door, steeling myself... and pushed it open.
What greeted me was chaos.
The ceiling had caved in, letting the storm outside pour through like heaven itself had opened a wound.
The entire chamber was drenched, sheets of rain splashing against broken stone and scorched debris.
And there—there he was.
Death lay sprawled on the cracked floor, his body battered yet somehow, impossibly, intact.
His once—mighty antlers—shattered, jagged stumps now. His serpentine tail-blackened and smoldering, half of it nothing but ash.
If that blast had hit any ordinary human, they'd have been obliterated, gone without even a whisper left behind.
But no.
Before me lay not some mere man, but an ancient dragon, a being who had weathered millennia and still refused to die.
His massive chest heaved. His scales, charred and cracked, still shimmered faintly under the rain.
I took one cautious step closer... then another. My breath caught when I saw it-his fingers. They twitched.
I froze. Kept my distance.
Slowly, almost painfully, Death's eyes cracked open, glinting faintly even through the haze of pain.
Of course.
Of course he wasn't dead yet.
He wouldn't die that easily.
Not him.
After a while.
Death rose.
Slowly.
His legs trembled beneath him, his knees nearly buckling, yet somehow—somehow—he forced himself upright, towering and unbroken even as blood and ash dripped from his scales.
His voice tore through the storm, steeped in venomous pride.
"Hmph… to think a mere insect like you managed to crawl this far, Arche." His tone dripped disdain, every word sharpened like a dagger meant not to wound the flesh, but the soul.
"You actually dared to push me—me—to falter in my dominion over metal? Pathetic as you are, I almost mistook you for something greater." His cold, blue eyes narrowed, filled not with respect, but with disgust.
He gave a cruel laugh, echoing like a king mocking a fool. "Even my own kin, mighty dragons of ancient blood, could not force me to such lengths. And yet here you stand, a fragile human, flailing like a child who thinks he can grasp the stars."
The corner of his mouth twisted, cruel and mocking. "Don't mistake this for admiration, wretch. It is nothing more than curiosity at how long vermin can dance before being crushed."
His claws clenched, shattering the stone beneath him. Power radiated from his frame like a tyrant enraged at the audacity of rebellion.
"I've entertained your farce long enough. Now crawl back into the dirt where you belong!" His roar cracked the heavens as he lunged forward, the storm bending to his wrath.
"You are nothing but a stain beneath my heel—remember that as you die!"
I stood firm, my own blood pounding in my ears, my voice tearing through the storm to meet his.
"I'm not afraid of you, piece of shit!" I bellowed back, eyes blazing with defiance.
Death and I charged at each other like two forces of nature, fists drawn back, rage boiling over.
Our punches collided—not with each other's fists, but directly into each other's cheeks, the impact snapping our heads to the side, teeth grinding from the pain.
I didn't even flinch. I launched another punch square into his jaw, hard enough to make Death spit blood across the rain-soaked floor.
He snarled through crimson-stained teeth and answered with his own blow, cracking into my cheek like a hammer.
My vision blurred for half a second-but I didn't stop. My fingers dug into his hair like claws, and I yanked his head down, slamming my fists into his face again... and again... and again.
Death let out a hoarse growl of pain before he managed to drive his fist into my gut, doubling me over.
But his power... wasn't the same anymore.
That explosion earlier had ripped something out of him. His strikes now lacked the godlike strength they once carried.
I staggered back a step, clutching my ribs—but then I roared and threw myself forward again, slamming my boot hard into his side.
Death grunted in agony, his fangs bared as he stumbled to the side.
Then came the flurry.
We tore into each other with a barrage of fists to the face, trading blow after blow, relentless, savage, neither of us giving an inch.
The air cracked with each strike, the rain mixing with blood as we pounded each other into exhaustion.
Finally, we both stumbled back, breathing hard, shoulders heaving, blood dripping onto the shattered stone floor.
But it wasn't over. Not yet.
We lunged at each other again—
My fist drove deep into his stomach, and he coughed up a dark stream of blood, his body curling from the pain.
Before he could recover, I grabbed his face in a steel grip, fingers digging into his cheeks—
And with a roar of fury, I slammed his head into the floor with a thunderous crack, shaking the whole room.
The dragon fell silent beneath my hand, blood pooling beneath his broken form.
Death's claw clamped around my wrist like a steel vice, his grip tightening with such inhuman strength that my bones screamed in agony.
I hissed through clenched teeth, forced to lift my arm to try and relieve the pressure—
But that was his opening.
With a savage snarl, Death lashed out, kicking my legs out from under me. My back slammed onto the cold floor as the air was knocked out of me.
And then—pain.
His hand seized my ankle, yanking my leg high before spinning me violently and smashing me into the wall with bone-rattling force.
I crumpled against the stone, gasping, blood dripping from my lips.
But Death wasn't finished.
He stalked toward me like a predator savoring the kill, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and hoisted me clean off the ground by it.
My scalp burned as he dragged me up, his free fist hammering into me over and over-merciless, relentless, raining blows until my vision blurred with stars.
But I wasn't done.
My fingers clawed at the floor, grabbing a handful of sharp stones and dust-
And I hurled it into his eyes.
Death roared in pain, staggering back, clawing at his face as the grit seared his vision.
I didn't hesitate.
With a guttural yell, I drove my boot into his gut, sending him flying backward into the debris.
My chest heaved, lungs on fire, but I pushed forward, legs screaming as I ran at him full force-
But Death was faster.
He rose from the dust like a demon, his eyes still gleaming through the haze of pain, and his fist cracked across my cheek like thunder.
I was sent tumbling to the side, rolling across the ground, spitting blood and grit.
But still—still—I got back up.
My body ached, my breath ragged, but I charged again, slamming my fist into his gut with everything I had left.
Death staggered backward from the force, blood spraying from his mouth-
But his feet dug in.
He planted himself firmly, refusing to fall.
My breath came in ragged, shallow gasps as I glared at him through the downpour.
Every muscle in my body screamed in protest, but I summoned every last ounce of strength I had left.
My right hand clenched into a fist, veins bulging as raw power coiled inside me like a storm about to break.
Then—
I charged.
My boots splashed through puddles as I sprinted at him with everything I had, lightning splitting the sky above.
And he... he matched me.
Death roared, his massive form hurtling toward me, his fist drawn back, the sheer force of his presence shaking the air around us.
Just before his strike came crashing down—
I slipped under it.
My smaller frame twisted beneath his wild swing, and in that instant I unleashed everything.
My fist slammed into his chest with the fury of a hurricane, a deep, resounding BOOM echoing through the storm as the shockwave rippled outward.
Then—silence.
The world seemed to stop.
Only the sound of rain and distant thunder filled the void as we stood frozen there in the wreckage, neither of us moving, the tension so thick it could choke you.
Then, slowly...
Death's knees buckled.
He fell to the ground, kneeling before me.
I almost didn't believe it—from the very first time I met him, it was always me who fell to the ground, crushed by his overwhelming power.
Now, finally, it was him.
Without hesitation, I shoved him backward, forcing his beaten body flat against the ground.
I climbed atop him, straddling his massive chest, rain streaking down my face as I reached for the shard of my shattered blade.
My hand gripped the jagged steel tight, raising it high, its edge aimed at his heart.
"This ends now..." I hissed under my breath.
But just as I was about to plunge it into his chest—
His eyes met mine.
Those piercing, defiant blue eyes, even now, even broken, still burned with that same unyielding will.
"I want to ask you, Arche," Death's voice cut through the silence. "Why do you choose to live... in a world where evil thrives?"
I stood still, my breath ragged, my hands trembling around the shard of my blade.
A bitter laugh escaped me—quiet at first, then sharper, laced with something I wasn't sure was defiance or grief.
"...Because I'd rather live in a flawed world," I finally said, my voice rough, "than kneel to a self-proclaimed god who thinks he knows how to 'fix' it."
"You look at this world and you see only its filth. Its chaos. Its sins. And so you've convinced yourself the only way to 'save' it is to burn it all down and start over... as judge, jury, and executioner."
My grip tightened, knuckles white, as a surge of heat rose to my chest.
"But to me... that's not salvation. That's cowardice. That's running away from what it means to be human, and dressing it up as righteousness."
"Yes—this world is broken," I said. "It's cruel. It's unfair. It's full of liars, killers, cowards. Every single day it hurts people who don't deserve it."
I drew in a shaky breath. "But it's also full of people who keep fighting anyway."
"Who dare to hope, even when it's foolish. Who choose to love, even when hatred would be so much easier."
"That's what makes it worth living in."
"So no," I said, my voice steady now. "I won't bow to you. I won't live in your perfect little cage, pretending your massacre is some kind of mercy."
My lips curled into a bitter smile.
"If you really believe destroying everything makes you a god..."
"Then you're nothing but a coward who couldn't bear to face what it means to stay human."
Death let out a long, weary sigh at my words.
"...I see," he murmured, his voice low, almost broken. "So that's the kind of person you are."
His light blue eyes lingered on me, and though his lips curved into something like a smile, there was no joy in it—only a quiet, bitter understanding.
"You really believe," he went on, "that there's still something here worth saving... even after everything."
His voice cracked faintly, as though the weight of his own memories pressed down on him.
"Even after all the suffering you've seen. You'd rather cling to the shattered pieces than watch them be replaced."
He looked away then, staring at nothing, as though searching for words buried deep in the ashes of his conviction.
"For a moment... I thought you might understand me," he said softly.
"That maybe you'd see what I see. That maybe you'd stand by my side, help me build something better out of the ruin this world has become."
A pause.
"But it seems..." His gaze returned to me, and there was sadness there—and maybe a touch of pity. "...even someone like you is still chained by sentiment."
He straightened his shoulders slightly, as though bracing himself for what was to come. His voice grew quieter, steadier, but no less heavy.
"Fine, then. I won't try to convince you anymore. Keep your ideals. Hold onto your fragile hope."
"I only wish... it could've been enough to fix this world. But it isn't."
"That's why I have to do this. That's why I'll keep walking this path..."
His eyes hardened, though sorrow still glimmered in their depths. "...even if I walk it alone."
He gave me a final, resigned nod.
"Farewell, Arche."
I tightened my grip on the blade. My chest ached, my breath came in shallow gasps. But my resolve did not waver.
"Farewell, Death," I whispered.
And with that, I drove my blade into his chest-deep, deliberate—feeling it pierce his heart.
His body stiffened, then slackened, the strength draining from him in an instant.
No cry of pain. No more bursts of his energy. Only silence.
I stood over him, still panting, my hands trembling as the weight of it all settled in my chest like a stone.
And yet... I remained standing.
"...I... win..."
The words left my lips as little more than a whisper, yet they carried the weight of everything I'd endured to reach this moment.
I could hardly believe it myself. My body was in ruins—every muscle screaming, bones aching, blood still trickling from wounds too deep to count. But none of it mattered now.
I won.
I... actually won.
I'd saved this world from Lunar Ascendance—from their cruel dream of resetting everything, of erasing everyone and everything I fought to protect.
And... I found her.
I found my mother.
My trembling fingers fumbled for the pendant at my chest.
It was cracked and bloodstained, but it still opened when I pressed it. Inside, two delicate faces smiled up at me.
"Elaina..." I murmured, my voice catching.
I'd saved her country, too—kept her home, her people, from being swallowed by their madness.
A faint smile curved my lips. My father... he'd be proud of me now, wouldn't he?
And Grandma Rosa... Grandpa... I could almost hear them crying with joy somewhere beyond the veil, whispering my name with pride.
Valtherion.. I could practically hear his booming voice echoing through the air, calling me his greatest disciple, his boy.
And my friends... the ones who had stood beside me, fought with me through every battle... they'd be happy too, knowing all their sacrifices weren't in vain.
Everyone... will be happy.
I have to see her now.
I have to see my mother.
I shifted my weight, trying to stand—but a sharp, searing pain shot through my entire body, dropping me to my knees.
Every limb felt heavy as stone, every breath a shallow, fragile thing.
Maybe... just for a moment... I can rest.
Just for a little while.
I staggered back, my legs barely holding me upright, and reached behind me for the wall—needing something, anything, to keep me steady.
But there was nothing there.
My heel slipped into empty air.
"...Ah."
Time seemed to stop as I realized what I'd done.
The room was vast, its windows shattered, the jagged frame still glinting faintly in the moonlight.
I should've noticed. I should've known. But I was too tired—far too tired to care.
So... this is how I die?
A quiet, wry smile curved my lips as gravity claimed me, pulling me into the cold night air.
At least... I'd defeated him.
At least, when I die, I can go knowing I struck down Death himself.
That thought alone makes this end feel... a little more peaceful.
The air whistled past my ears as memories bloomed behind my eyes—one after another, a lifetime flashing in brilliant colors: the happy days and the painful nights, the people who lifted me when I couldn't stand, the laughter, the tears, the fights worth having.
I thought of them all.
Venganza.
Without them, I'd never have made it this far. If I'd come here alone... I'd have died long before now.
I wish... I could tell them. Just once. Thank you. Thank you for everything.
But I won't get the chance.
My chest ached, not just from the cold or the pain, but from the thought of all the words I'd never get to say.
Mother...
Don't cry.
Zack will take care of you now.
He's loyal.
Father's disciple through and through... and he'll protect you when I can't.
That's enough for me.
That's... enough.
Riviere...
She was my first love.
I didn't recognize it at first—how could I?
Back then, my heart was nothing but ice, locked away and untouched.
But she... she melted it, effortlessly.
With just a glance, a word, a smile—Riviere shattered the frost and let the warmth in.
And now... she has someone new by her side.
MacMillia, her assistant. A kind girl.
I'm certain she'll take good care of Riviere... better than I ever could.
Besides... I already have someone else.
Another woman I love.
My last love.
Elaina.
Her name burned on my lips as tears stung my eyes.
I really... won't see her again, will I?
I already miss her.
Not just her.
Amnesia. Avilia. Saya. Mina.
All of them.
I wish... I could laugh with them again. Just one more time.
"Thank you... everyone," I whispered into the wind.
My eyes grew unbearably heavy. The world around me blurred, fading into soft streaks of light and shadow.
With what little strength I had left, I let them close.
Maybe... like this... will all my sins finally disappear?
Who knows...
I never did have all the answers.
All the names they called me—whispered in fear, shouted in praise—loated through my fading mind.
The Emerald Thief.
The Sin Redeemer.
The Fool Hero.
All of it... ends here.
...
And yet...
A faint, fragile smile touched my lips.
I feel grateful.
Grateful to have lived... in this world.
— The end —