BOOOOOOOOOOM!!
The collision swallowed the battlefield whole.
Golden lightning.
Divine flames.
Crimson mana.
The three forces collided and erupted into a cataclysmic explosion that illuminated nearly half of Blackwater.
A blinding pillar of destruction rose into the heavens.
The shockwave thundered outward in every direction.
Steel platforms shattered.
Burning wreckage was hurled high into the sky.
Windows cracked across distant districts.
Even buildings far from the military skyport trembled beneath the force of the impact.
For several long seconds—
nobody could see anything.
Only blinding light.
Only roaring destruction.
Only the deafening aftermath of power unleashed beyond reason.
Then—
slowly—
the smoke began to clear.
The battlefield seemed to hold its breath.
At the center of the devastation—
Aurelia stood.
Barely.
Blood stained her silver armor.
One leg trembled beneath her weight.
Her breathing was ragged.
Uneven.
Painful.
A thin trail of blood ran from the corner of her lips.
Her golden eyes remained fixed forward.
Filled with disbelief.
*That attack...*
A chill crawled down her spine.
*If I had been even a fraction slower...*
Her fingers tightened around her weapon.
*I would've died.*
Around the battlefield, soldiers and hunters slowly realized she was still standing.
Relief immediately spread through the Imperial ranks.
Some nearly collapsed from it.
Others released breaths they hadn't realized they were holding.
Then—
their eyes shifted.
And that relief vanished.
Draven stood opposite her.
Silence spread.
His condition was horrifying.
Blood poured from countless wounds.
His left arm was gone entirely.
His remaining arm hung at an unnatural angle.
Twisted.
Broken.
His body looked as though it had been fed through a grinder.
Deep gashes covered him from head to toe.
Flesh torn.
Bones exposed.
Yet somehow—
despite everything—
the black blade remained firmly clenched within his hand.
One soldier swallowed hard.
"...That's terrifying."
Another stared in open horror.
"...How is he still alive?"
Nobody answered.
Because nobody had an answer.
Then—
Draven started walking.
Step.
Step.
Step.
At first, he limped.
His body swayed slightly with each movement.
Blood dripped behind him, leaving a crimson trail across the shattered steel.
Then—
the impossible happened.
His wounds began closing.
Muscles reconnected.
Torn flesh knitted together.
Bone reformed.
His twisted arm slowly straightened.
A new arm began growing from the ruined stump of his shoulder.
Blood flow ceased.
Skin regenerated.
Damage vanished.
One step at a time—
he rebuilt himself.
As though refusing to acknowledge that his body had already surpassed every limit it should have possessed.
Aurelia watched in stunned silence.
For the first time since the battle began—
she could no longer remain standing.
Her legs finally gave out.
She dropped to one knee.
Breathing heavily.
Her blessings flickering.
Her divine power nearly exhausted.
Meanwhile—
Draven continued forward.
His crimson eyes remained unchanged.
Calm.
Cold.
Focused.
Unmoving.
Like death itself advancing one step at a time.
Far away—
Syrian watched from the shadows.
Her eyes never left him.
"...He actually did it."
One of the Crossfall members swallowed nervously.
"The Saint Princess..."
Syrian slowly shook her head.
"No."
Her gaze remained locked onto Draven.
"...He defeated her."
A brief pause.
Then—
despite herself—
she added quietly,
"...He's strong."
Another moment passed.
Then she exhaled.
"...Really strong."
Back on the battlefield—
Draven moved.
BOOM!!
The steel beneath his feet exploded.
He vanished.
Closing the distance instantly.
The black blade descended toward Aurelia's neck.
A perfect killing strike.
Then—
CLANG!!
A brilliant barrier materialized.
The sword slammed into it and stopped.
A deafening impact echoed outward.
Ripples spread across layers of shimmering blue light.
Draven froze.
His eyes narrowed.
The barrier completely surrounded Aurelia.
Protective.
Powerful.
An emergency artifact.
Someone had intervened.
Aurelia's eyes widened slightly.
Even she hadn't expected it.
Draven's grip tightened.
The sword rose once more.
He prepared to strike again.
Then—
FWOOOOOOOSH!!
Multiple fire spears descended from the heavens.
His instincts reacted immediately.
BOOOOOOM!!
Explosions engulfed the area.
Flames erupted across the platform.
Steel melted instantly.
Fire surged skyward.
Yet Draven was already gone.
He appeared dozens of meters away.
Sliding across shattered steel.
His crimson eyes slowly lifted toward the sky.
Everyone followed his gaze.
A lone figure hovered above the battlefield.
Robes fluttered in the wind.
A staff rested within one hand.
Behind him—
enormous magical circles rotated slowly.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
The surrounding mana trembled.
Even veteran mages felt their hearts sink.
Because they immediately recognized what they were seeing.
A High-Rank Mage.
One of the strongest magic users in the entire country.
The newcomer smiled faintly.
Looking down upon the battlefield.
Upon Aurelia.
Upon Draven.
Upon the countless witnesses below.
Then his voice echoed across the ruined military district.
"So..."
He adjusted his grip upon the staff.
"It seems I arrived at the perfect time."
Several bounty hunters immediately recognized him.
Their eyes widened.
"...Andrew."
"...The Crimson Griffin Guild Master."
"...A Sixth-Circle Mage..."
Andrew's smile widened.
Behind him, the massive spell circles brightened.
Fire gathered.
The temperature across the battlefield began rising at a frightening rate.
"Now then."
His gaze locked onto Draven.
Calm.
Confident.
Certain.
"I suppose I'll be the one claiming the reward."
The spell circles expanded.
The sky itself seemed to turn red.
Thousands of sparks ignited across the heavens.
Like countless stars being born.
Andrew raised his staff.
Mana surged.
The air screamed.
And for the first time since arriving—
Draven stopped looking at Aurelia.
His full attention shifted.
His crimson eyes settled entirely upon the mage above.
Cold.
Silent.
Dangerous.
The battlefield held its breath once more.
Andrew's staff blazed with fire.
The gigantic spell circles accelerated.
Mana flooded the atmosphere.
The battlefield trembled.
Then—
SHHHHHHK!!
Dozens of blood constructs erupted upward.
Spears.
Blades.
Chains.
Halberds.
An entire crimson storm surged toward the Sixth-Circle Mage.
Andrew's eyes narrowed.
A barrier unfolded around him instantly.
BOOOOOOM!!
The constructs slammed into it.
Explosions detonated throughout the sky.
The barrier shook violently.
Cracks nearly appeared.
Fire and blood mana scattered across the heavens.
Then—
Aldric appeared beside Draven.
So suddenly that most people never even saw him move.
One moment he had been fighting Lucan and Roland.
The next—
he was standing beside Draven.
Black wings partially spread.
Blood dripped from countless wounds before rapidly sealing.
His crimson eyes swept across the battlefield.
Everyone tensed.
Waiting.
Expecting another attack.
Instead—
Aldric spoke quietly.
"So..."
His gaze drifted toward the horizon.
Toward the countless mana signatures converging upon Blackwater.
"...Guess who showed up."
Draven followed his gaze.
His eyes narrowed.
Even from here—
he could feel them.
Powerful presences.
A lot of them.
Guild Masters.
Veteran hunters.
Mercenary captains.
High-ranking mages.
More.
And more.
And more.
The news had spread far beyond Blackwater.
Every ambitious fool chasing fame and fortune was now rushing toward the city.
Aldric snorted.
"The only reward here..."
His grin widened.
"...is the reward of killing every last one of you."
Nobody laughed.
Nobody spoke.
Because despite how insane the statement sounded—
the confidence behind it made it impossible to dismiss.
Then Aldric's expression shifted slightly.
The grin faded.
Just a little.
"They're coming."
His voice lowered.
More serious now.
"A lot of them."
A pause.
"And some of them are strong."
Draven remained silent.
Aldric glanced sideways.
"If we don't leave now..."
His eyes drifted toward the approaching mana signatures.
"...things are going to get really ugly."
Another pause.
Then—
for perhaps the first time during the entire battle—
Aldric sounded completely sincere.
"You don't have what it takes anymore."
Silence followed.
Blood dripped from Draven's fingertips.
His body had regenerated.
Mostly.
But both of them knew the truth.
He had pushed himself far beyond his limits.
Far beyond what should have been possible.
Aldric continued.
"Your time's up."
His crimson eyes briefly shifted toward Aurelia.
"You can kill her another day."
Then his gaze returned to Draven.
"Don't forget your goal."
A pause.
"Lucifer."
"And Elenya."
The names lingered in the air.
Draven's eyes flickered.
For the first time since the battle began—
his focus wavered.
Only slightly.
Then he looked toward Aurelia.
The princess remained behind the protective barrier.
Wounded.
Exhausted.
Alive.
His target.
So close.
Yet still beyond reach.
Several long seconds passed.
Then—
Draven exhaled.
A long, steady breath.
The tension slowly left his shoulders.
"...Alright."
A pause.
"...Let's go."
Aldric immediately grinned.
"There he is."
Above them—
Andrew's eyes sharpened.
His staff rose.
"What makes you think you'll be leaving?"
Fire erupted around him.
The spell circles behind him expanded once more.
The temperature across the battlefield skyrocketed.
"You'll be dying here."
Aldric looked up.
Then laughed.
Actually laughed.
Loud.
Open.
Unrestrained.
As though he had just heard the most ridiculous joke imaginable.
"...How foolish."
BOOOOOOOOOOM!!
Crimson mana exploded from his body.
The entire battlefield shook violently.
Hundreds of blood constructs materialized.
Then hundreds more.
Then thousands.
Then tens of thousands.
The sky darkened.
A crimson sea spread across the heavens.
Weapons filled the air.
Blades.
Spears.
Chains.
Axes.
Halberds.
Countless blood-forged weapons floating above Blackwater like a second scarlet sky.
Everyone stared upward.
Some soldiers instinctively stepped backward.
Others forgot to breathe.
Even Andrew's confident expression stiffened.
For the first time—
uncertainty appeared within his eyes.
Aldric slowly spread his wings.
His grin returned.
Wider than ever.
Far more dangerous than before.
"Since we're leaving anyway..."
He raised a single finger toward the sky.
The endless sea of blood constructs trembled.
The heavens themselves seemed to groan beneath their weight.
Then Aldric smiled.
A smile that made countless people feel cold.
"...Let's make this everyone's problem."
And above Blackwater—
the crimson storm began to descend.