The gladii of Caesar's Earth Soldiers shattered the moment they struck Ativ. Flaming arrows rained down from the fire archers, but not even dozens of them left a mark on the former general's shadow-forged armor.
Every soldier that dared to bar his way was crushed or extinguished entirely beneath his overwhelming might. Nothing seemed capable of halting the almost beastlike demon.
"Hero!" Ativ bellowed, charging straight toward Caesar, now only a few meters away from his prey.
Yet Caesar remained perfectly calm, his sharp gaze never leaving his opponent.
'It saddens me to see such a brilliant general reduced to this state. Still… that spell is formidable. Had he used it during close combat, it might truly have posed a problem. But I understand—this was the only move left to him if he wished to continue the fight. Unfortunately, the moment he used that spell, my victory was sealed.' With that thought, Caesar whispered an incantation under his breath.
Ativ was still tearing through the earth soldiers when he felt a sudden stab of pain in his back. He spun around to find four new figures—soldiers that resembled the ones of earth but crafted entirely from flowing water. Each wielded a blade of liquid so fine and sharp it shimmered in constant motion, cutting at tremendous pressure. One such sword had already pierced the shadow armor that had deflected countless arrows and blades.
For the first time, Ativ's focus wavered. His concentration, which had been solely locked on Caesar, shifted toward the water soldiers. With a wide, furious swipe of his clawed hand, he tried to crush them instantly. To his shock, his attack passed through all four without leaving a scratch.
The realization—that something so seemingly fragile was untouchable—sent Ativ into a frenzy. Rage consumed him. He roared and hammered away with relentless fists, determined to erase these insolent figures from existence.
For nearly a minute, he struck without pause. Blow after blow landed, yet the water soldiers remained unharmed. All the while, their blades sliced him repeatedly, carving wounds across his body. But thanks to both his natural demon regeneration and the acceleration granted by his active spell, the injuries healed almost as quickly as they appeared. The clash devolved into a stalemate, a meaningless cycle in which neither side inflicted lasting damage.
"So… Caesar knows the Water Soldiers spell as well. They are immune to all physical attacks," Sequoria said heavily, sorrow in her voice. "I regret to admit it, but Ativ has almost certainly lost."
"Why, Big Sister?" asked Luvrio curiously. "Those soldiers don't seem to be hurting him either. If he just ignored them and pressed forward toward Caesar, then once in close combat, I'm sure Ativ would hold the advantage."
"Yes, that much is true," Sequoria replied. "In fact, if Ativ were in his normal state of mind, he could have dealt with them easily. He is an expert in physical enhancement spells, a master of the spear, and though he rarely employs long range magic, I know he possesses at least a few spells capable of eliminating these soldiers. In his usual clarity, he would recognize this situation and adapt instantly. But now… with his mind clouded by that shadow spell, he cannot even consider such options—nor even the strategy you suggested."
Another minute passed. Ativ still battered away at the water soldiers, accomplishing nothing. The time limit of his Shadow Enhancement approached, its effect waning with each passing moment. Even through his fogged thoughts, Ativ sensed it—his momentary strength would not last much longer.
Yet one thought gnawed at him as he struck again and again. Why had these fragile little figures not been destroyed? Why was he wasting so much strength against them? And a more important question surfaced in his dimming mind. Why was he even fighting them in the first place?
The answer blazed in his fury: because they had angered him!
But… wasn't there someone else he was supposed to be fighting?
Ativ paused for a brief moment, his blows against the water soldiers halting as his wild eyes roamed the battlefield. Then he saw him—
the strange man upon his equally strange steed—staring back at him with an expression of absolute confidence.
That was his opponent! That was the hero!
But why was he fighting him? Was this just a tournament match? No, it was more than that. Revenge? No—his true vengeance belonged to another. Then what was the purpose? If no such motive drove him, why did his heart, brimming with rage, scream that what he had done was not enough? If this was nothing more than a duel for its own sake, then continuing was pointless. Soon, his strength would fade, his body would fail him, and he would collapse. And yet… why did he refuse to give up?
Ativ's gaze returned to Caesar. The hero still watched him with perfect composure, utterly certain of victory.
'Why did Ativ's opponent have such a calm expression on his face?! Ativ was teasing him!!!' Ativ's thoughts flared. That was it—this was a test! He realized he was fighting on not because he cared about winning, but because the strength he had seen so far from the hero was not enough. It was nowhere near enough. With only what he had witnessed, he could not judge if this man—this hero—possessed the power required to enact the vengeance Ativ had forsaken due to his own weakness.
The truth struck him like a blade: his anger was not for Caesar. It was for himself—for failing to push Caesar far enough, for not forcing the hero to reveal his true might, for failing to measure him properly. But it wasn't over. Not yet. Time still remained!
With newfound resolve, Ativ turned his back on the futile water soldiers and charged directly toward Caesar. His body absorbed every strike and every arrow Caesar's army hurled at him, yet he pressed forward, unrelenting.
A faint smile curved Caesar's lips as he watched.
Sequoria's eyes widened. "He did it! He finally made the right move!" she exclaimed with relief.
He knew this didn't ensure Ativ's victory. But to see his old friend lose without ever reaching Caesar—that would have been a bitter sight indeed.
Carving a path of destruction, Ativ smashed through another thirty soldiers. Then at last, he was there—less than a meter separated him from Caesar. The Shadow Enhancement coursing through him was nearly extinguished, but he had reached his foe, and in hand-to-hand combat, there could be no doubt: Ativ would triumph in an instant.
"I must congratulate you, Ativ," Caesar said, his tone almost admiring. "I had believed my Water Soldiers would be enough to bring you down in that form, but I am pleasantly surprised that you managed to reach me…"
Before he could finish, Ativ launched himself forward. With nothing standing between him and his opponent but the massive golem horse, the former general roared with primal fury, leaping straight at Caesar.
"HERO!!!"
But Caesar's calm voice cut through the roar. "And yet, it seems this still is not enough to touch me. Dark Soldiers—your time has come!"
From beneath the shadow of the golem horse, two colossal figures emerged—towering Roman soldiers, each over two meters tall, their forms woven entirely of darkness. In truth, they had not just appeared; they had been present from the very beginning, concealed by their ability to become invisible within any shadow.
In perfect synchrony, both raised their spears and drove them through Ativ's arms, suspending him helplessly in midair.
At that instant, Caesar drew his sword. Its blade gleamed yellow, almost golden, catching the light as it pierced cleanly into Ativ's chest—straight through the heart.
"Aaaaaaaaah!" Ativ screamed, his roar of defiance twisting into agony.
Seeing the blade pierce Ativ's chest, Lucas suddenly rose to his feet, his face pale with horror.
"WHY DIDN'T PINUSAL STOP CAESAR? ATIV IS GOING TO DIE!" he shouted, panic shaking his voice.
Luvrio turned in surprise at Alberia's outburst.
"Don't worry, daughter," Sequoria said gently, her calm demeanor contrasting with Lucas's fear. "Piercing the heart of a demon is not enough to kill them—at least, not instantly. To end his life, the heart must remain pierced or be destroyed for five minutes. However, until then, a demon finds it extremely difficult to move or cast spells, so Caesar's victory is already secured. But if he truly wished to kill him, Caesar need only sever his head—that ends any demon instantly." She placed a reassuring hand on her son's shoulder, her touch soft but steady, to calm him.
Lucas exhaled in relief, then flushed with embarrassment at his outburst. "I'm sorry… I jumped to conclusions without knowing the anatomy of demons well enough," he admitted, bowing slightly.
"Do not trouble yourself, Your Majesty," said Luvrio kindly. "It's good to see you care about lives beyond our citizens. Still, I suggest you to better study each species' anatomy with my sister. You'll find the knowledge invaluable, isn't that right, big sister?"
"Yes, you're right, Luvrio," Sequoria replied with composed grace. "It seems my daughter truly needs a refresher." But inwardly she thought, 'I completely forgot to teach you something so fundamental. Forgive me, my son—it was among the first things I should have taught you.'
Lucas, oblivious to her unspoken regret, simply nodded.
On the field, Ativ struggled weakly, but even with the Shadow Enhancement still lingering, his strength was nearly gone. Within seconds, the spell's effect faded entirely, his body shrinking back to its natural form.
At that moment, Pinusal strode forward. After a brief inspection of Ativ's condition, he declared loudly:
"The match is over. The winner is the hero, Gaius Julius Caesar!"
At his words, Caesar withdrew his blade from Ativ's chest. With a calm gesture, he dismissed his summoned army, leaving only the two Dark Soldiers holding Ativ aloft. Then he dismounted the golem horse—which vanished instantly—and dispelled the soldiers, allowing Ativ's body to fall. Before he could hit the ground, Caesar caught him, lowering him with unexpected elegance and kindness.
"It was an excellent battle, General Ativ," Caesar said, his tone neither mocking nor boastful. "If you still commanded an army in the Demon Realm, I would welcome the chance to face them in open war."
He turned to leave the arena, but a Ativ voice stopped him.
"Wait… Hero Caesar, I have something to ask you."
Caesar turned back, meeting Ativ's exhausted but resolute eyes. He stood silently, waiting.
It took Ativ several moments to gather the strength and courage. Then, drawing a deep breath, he asked with solemnity:
"Hero Gaius Julius Caesar… would you allow me to join your party?"
Caesar's eyes widened slightly, though the surprise vanished as swiftly as it appeared. His expression settled back into composed authority.
"Why would you wish to join me," he asked sternly, "you, who already chose to flee?"
Ativ immediately understood—this was not a simple question. This was a test. His answer here would decide everything.
"At first, as I claimed at the start of our battle, I only wished to test your strength, to see if you were capable of challenging Oniac. Or at least… that was the excuse I used to fool myself. The truth is, I was running away. I abandoned the duties that should have been mine, because I knew I lacked the strength to defeat him. It was cowardice."
His voice trembled with anger—not at Caesar, but at himself.
"I told myself it was wiser to step aside, but in truth, I should have tried to gather the remnants of King Eleba's loyal followers and staged a coup. Oniac's decisions as a king have destroyed everything my king built during his glorious reign. Instead to fight, I allowed myself to be exiled, fleeing my duty to avenge my king, to uphold his vision of peace. I was afraid—not only for myself, but for what might happen to those beside me if we faced such power. But meeting you has changed that. I cannot run any longer. The fury I feel—for Oniac, and even more for myself—burns too deeply. It is time I resume my duty as Eleba's right hand. And though it may be arrogance, I believe joining your party is the only way I can truly fulfill that duty."
His words carried respect, but also raw self-reproach.
Caesar listened without interruption, his gaze unwavering. Then, after a long silence, he extended his hand.
"Very well. I will allow you to join us. I doubt the other members, or even King Leo, will object. But know this: you do not yet hold my full trust. Should you ever again abandon your duty, I will personally sever your head from your body."
His voice carried the weight of severity—yet beneath it flowed a vast, unshakable magnanimity.