Chapter 75
It ends (6)
In the loud silence.
A voice broke through, feeble and hoarse, like breath dragged over razors.
"R-Run, Regina… quickly…"
"No!" she snapped, her voice trembling. "I can't—I can't leave you behind! Not like this!"
Her hands trembled violently, covered in drying blood—his blood. The blood of the man she loved. It smeared down her arms, her fingers, stuck beneath her nails. Tears streamed freely down her face, shattering the cold, composed mask she had so carefully maintained for years. That façade—the strong, precise, untouchable fighter—had crumbled.
She looked… scared. Helpless. Vulnerable.
Just like everyone else.
A weak smile tugged at the corners of Raj's mouth, strained and full of peace. His grey eyes, dulled by pain but still burning with life, looked up at her with a depth that pierced straight through the carnage.
"You know… I love that about you," he whispered, voice barely a breath. "I love that I'm the only one who could make that silly mask of yours fall… Even if it was tough at times."
Regina let out a sound that was half a sob and half a whimper, her chest heaving. "No… no…"
She pressed his hand tighter to her cheek, trying to hold it there, trying to keep it warm. But already his skin was cooling. Already, his fingers were shaking with the weakness of the dying.
It had been a brutal fight.
Despite the odds—four against two—they had fought with everything they had. Raj had used every drop of his mana and every ounce of control he possessed to create openings. Regina, with her unmatched technical grace and her terrifying strength, had capitalised on them. Thanks to her secret method, they'd managed to take out two more of the hooded figures, leaving just two standing. But the toll had been immense.
They had resumed the battle, exhausted, bleeding, half-blind with pain. But it was inevitable.
In their weakened state, with no recovery time, they were eventually overpowered.
And still, they fought.
The one who had grown impatient—he made a mistake. Raj saw it. In a final burst of clarity and strength, he had thrown his dagger—not as a last resort, but as a trap. The cloaked figure had dodged it, narrowly. But Raj's path was tied to his creations.
With the last thread of his mana and a few drops of his own blood, Raj controlled the blade in midair. It spun behind the attacker and stabbed him clean through the back of the skull. Not a clean kill. But enough.
Regina had finished it. She smashed his skull into pulp. But she'd dropped her guard.
The hooded foe unleashed a savage slash. Raj flinched, realizing the sword was headed for her. He threw himself forward, intercepting the blade with his chest…
The saber had carved through him like paper, the wound running from collarbone to waist.
But Raj did not stop there. Clinging on to the hooded figure's body, his blood-soaked hands tightened around the enemy's shoulders with the last of his strength, holding him in place—long enough for Regina to react. The figure snarled, slamming Raj aside with brutal force, sending him crashing into a jagged slab of collapsed stone. His body hit it with a sickening thud, and he slumped against it, unmoving, blood streaking the rock behind him.
The remaining hooded figure stood still for a long moment, breathing heavily, body trembling not just from exhaustion—but from disbelief.
He couldn't believe it.
They had taken down four of them, From five down to just one. Two against five, both wounded, restricted by the path formations, drained and bleeding—and yet they had still managed to reduce his squad to this.
His eyes darted between Regina and Raj's slumped form. His thoughts raced.
Both of them... had secret methods. Fully grounded, battle-capable secret methods. Not combo methods. Not cheap tricks.
Real ones.
It was absurd.
He grit his teeth, shaking his head. It didn't make sense. Creating a secret method wasn't like crafting a combo method. It wasn't something anyone could just stumble into. You couldn't copy it. You couldn't imitate it. It wasn't like plucking an apple from a low-hanging branch. It was something else entirely.
To forge a secret method, one needed not only talent but time. So much time. Mastery of one's concept, an intimate understanding of one's path, the ability to layer combo techniques under pressure... It took years—sometimes decades—to shape even one.
And these two had done it.
Both of them.
Both.
In his own group, not a single one of them had managed to make one. Not one. Most of them didn't even know where to begin. Not the rare and volatile trump cards like secret methods.
Yet here they were.
He clenched his fists tighter. He couldn't accept it. He wouldn't.
The surprise. That was what made secret methods so dangerous. That was part of their deadliness—the fact that they were kept hidden, only brought out when victory demanded it, when enemies were confident they had the upper hand. The shock alone could shift the tide of battle.
And they both had one.
Where had these monsters came from without anyone noticing?
His breath hitched.
He realized—he was afraid. Actually afraid.
He gritted his teeth, every muscle trembling with exhaustion and bruises. His body ached, and his mind was stretched to its breaking point—he was on his last nerve. There was no room left for weakness; no time to give in. He had to get backup.
Just as he turned to flee, a guttural roar of pure hatred and rage tore through the air. Regina slammed into him like a whirlwind of fury, her form crashing against his with brutal force. The impact sent him smashing hard into the ground.
Her attacks were feral, wild, and relentless. There was no elegance now—only raw desperation fueled by basic mana reinforcement going through her veins, reinforcing her body like an unstoppable weapon. She beat him mercilessly, crushing his defenses, pounding him into the earth with every blow.
When the brutal assault finally ended, she stood shakily, muscles trembling, breath ragged, completely spent. Her body was beyond exhaustion, barely holding itself upright.
Without a moment's hesitation, she staggered towards Raj—his form lying battered and broken nearby. Despite the fatigue threatening to consume her, she reached him, every step heavy.
Now in the present.
The smell of blood was thick in the air. It clung to their skin, their clothes, the inside of their throats. The dust made it hard to breathe. The smoke above them swirled like storm clouds, veiling the fractured sky.
But Regina could see none of it.
There was only him.
"Ever since we met at the Hope Academy… even before that," Raj said weakly, "I always loved watching your reactions… your smile…"
His breath hitched.
"Regina… could you smile for me? Just one more time?"
She was sobbing openly now, shaking like a leaf in a storm.
But through her tears, a weak, radiant smile formed on her lips. It was cracked, broken, and full of grief—but it was the smile he had asked for.
"Now… I can go in peace," Raj whispered. "My love…"
He leaned up, just enough to press his lips to hers. A kiss full of memories—of late nights in his workshop, of quiet mornings and warm meals, of whispered confessions and shared dreams.
When he pulled away, he was already fading.
"My favourite times…" he murmured, eyes flickering, "were when you'd visit me… after a long day in the workshop. I'd be so tired… and you'd just be there… comforting me… telling me it was okay…"
Regina choked. "I love you so much… please don't leave."
"I love you too," he whispered. "From the nine moons… and back."
He rested his forehead against hers. His body trembled beneath her hands.
She responded, voice trembling, "The nine moons… and back."
She wrapped her arms around him tightly, trying to keep him here. Hoping—praying—that her warmth could keep him alive.
But the warmth was leaving him.
He smiled again—his last smile—as he stared into her face.
Raj smiled , his grey eyes watching the frame against him, his nose smelling her sweet scent through the blood.
And then, peacefully, Raj closed his eyes.
He was gone.
Regina let out a broken cry, her hands clinging to his body like it could anchor her soul. She wept, not like a warrior, not like a soldier—but like a woman who had just lost the only light left in her world.
She cried more than she had ever cried in her life.
Time passed.
Then, a voice.
"Regina!!"
She lifted her head slowly. Her eyes were red, her face stained with grief. She turned to see Althea standing a distance away—her eyes wide, her hand clamped over her mouth in sheer, heartbroken disbelief.
She was some of the people who knew about raj and Reginas situation.
.... That they were married.
Althea stumbled forward a few steps. Her voice was cracking. "I'm… I'm so sorry. If only I had come sooner—"
Regina shook her head slowly.
"No. It's okay. You're not to blame."
A quiet fell between them—so still, so full of unspoken pain that even the wind seemed to hush.
Althea looked around. Her eyes sharpened. "At least seven people are approaching. They don't seem friendly. Regina—we need to go."
Regina didn't respond at first. She just looked at Raj's body again.
"No… it's okay."
"What? Regina—"
"It's okay. There are others… others who need you. People who still want to live. Go to them."
Althea froze.
Her breath hitched.
Again—again she was running away from someone she could save. Again, she had to abandon someone who mattered.
Her fingers curled into fists. She bit her lip until it bled. Her legs trembled beneath her.
But then she nodded.
"Okay…"
She turned away, her steps shaking. Regina didn't watch her go. She only looked down at Raj. Slowly, reverently, she placed a kiss on his forehead.
"Wait for me… just a little longer."
The earth trembled.
Seven cloaked figures approached, stepping over the remains of the ones Raj and Regina had slain. They paused when they saw her.
One of them muttered, "What the fuck… They actually lost? At least they took one down."
"You…" Regina said, her voice low and deadly. "Why are you doing this?"
The one who'd spoken laughed—an ugly, mocking sound. "Why? Because you're all a threat. Healers… people like him who can control weapons… You'd ruin the operation."
"That's it?" she asked quietly.
"Yeah," he said, chuckling. "What are you gonna do about it? You're outnumbered, Regina. It's over. The Hold is finished."
She exhaled slowly.
"So you know my name, huh? Good."
He blinked. "What?"
"That's the name you'll be taking to hell."
And then she ran.
Like a knight in her final charge. Her bloodied body moved with one last burst of life force. For the first time... And the last time.
It was the last stand.
Her last stand.
....
Behind her, Althea ran. Her legs burned. Her heart thundered in her chest. She ran for the hub—where the last survivors might be.
Behind her, the sound exploded.
A beam of light erupted into the sky, illuminating the hellscape of smoke and death. The ground quaked. The explosion echoed through the ruins like the scream of a dying world.
Terrifying.
And final.
It was beautiful.