The ground where Irene fought was no longer earth—it was a wasteland of molten stone, torn trees, and rivers of blood. The demon's body was charred, its wings shredded like paper, but still it lashed at her, its claws carving trenches through the battlefield.
Irene's black hair whipped with each movement, her aura boiling like the wrath of the storm itself.
"Fall."
Her blade cut through its chest, splitting the charred flesh, black blood spraying in torrents. The demon shrieked, its demonic pressure shaking the very sky—yet Irene did not falter. Blow by blow, step by step, she dragged the creature down. With one final strike, she crushed it under her aura, snapping its spine like a brittle twig.
The S-rank demon's roar cut short. It collapsed into twitching limbs and silence.
For the first time, Irene let herself breathe.
But in that same moment—Nex's demon, the second one, moved.
It flickered from one end of the corridor to the other, speed breaking sound, its rage searing the air. It had sensed the fall of its counterpart, and its fury turned cold and precise. Its charred, winged frame blurred into motion, and in an instant, it was before Nex.
"You'll die here, little worm."
The walls cracked as its talons reached for Nex's throat. Nex braced, bloodied, half-blind, violet eye burning with nothing but defiance—
And then—
BOOM.
The entire wall exploded.
Through the haze of fire and smoke, a silhouette emerged—slender, tall, the kind of presence that demanded silence. Her long crimson coat fluttered in the wind, her blade—black steel laced with silver veins—already dripping with demonic ichor.
Her hair was a cascade of night itself, broken by faint streaks of silver. Eyes like molten gold swept over the battlefield, sharp enough to cut.
Veronica had arrived.
The demon froze mid-swipe, turning its head. "...Hunter."
Nex blinked, stunned—not by relief, but by confusion. He didn't know her. She didn't know him. She looked at him once—briefly, as though assesing—then fixed her gaze entirely on the demon.
"You reek of arrogance," Veronica said coldly, her voice like steel drawn over stone. "Let's test how much of it you can keep when your head is on the ground."
The demon hissed, its black blood sizzling on the floor, wings spreading wide. "Another insect dares—"
Its words cut short as Veronica moved.
Steel clashed. Sparks burst. The air warped under the collision of her aura and the demon's oppressive pressure.
Her blade found flesh instantly—she carved one wing in a single arc, ichor splattering the walls. The demon howled, retaliating with claws sharp enough to carve through stone. Veronica weaved between them, her movements fluid but brutal, each strike aiming not to wound but to dismantle.
Nex staggered back, forcing himself upright against the wall, watching through blurred vision. The fight was different from Irene's—it wasn't wrath, it wasn't chaos. Veronica fought like an executioner. Precise. Cold. Every strike meant to kill.
The demon slammed her into the wall, cracking stone, but she rammed her blade through its arm, twisting until bone shattered. It roared, spewing corrupted flames, but she cut through the fire, through the flesh, through the very sound of its scream.
Blood. Black, boiling, drenched the corridor. Pieces of stone rained. The clash rattled the mana crystal's remains, shaking the entire underground.
And Nex… couldn't look away.
This wasn't salvation. It wasn't hope.
It was something else—something merciless, alien, terrifying.
Veronica didn't even look back at him as she pressed the demon harder, her blade carving deeper, her aura crushing its wings to dust.
She was beautiful. She was brutal. She was death walking.
And she was here for the demon—not for him.
Nex blinked through his half-blind vision, his body failing him. She was radiant, but not in the cold way of an executioner. There was a steady strength in her, a warmth that pressed against the suffocating darkness.
She glanced once at Nex. Her gaze softened—just for a fraction of a second. "Stay alive," she said gently, almost like an older sister telling a child not to give up. Then she turned back to the monster.
Her tone hardened. "He's under my protection. Touch him, and I'll erase you."
The demon sneered. "Protection? Of that crippled worm? You waste your breath."
It lunged.
Veronica met it head-on.
Her blade roared with mana as it cut through its wing in a single flash, spraying ichor across the floor. She moved like water and lightning, fluid yet devastating, every motion honed to precision. The demon countered with talons, flames, and shrieks of demonic wrath, but Veronica pressed forward, her aura clashing like a tidal wave.
The corridor became a storm of steel and blood.
Nex staggered, leaning against the cracked wall, forcing his eye open. He couldn't look away.
She wasn't Irene, burning with fury. She wasn't him, laughing in defiance against despair.
Veronica was different. Every strike, every step was brutal, yes—but in her there was compassion, even as she cut the demon apart. She wasn't fighting to prove dominance. She wasn't fighting for vengeance.
She was fighting to protect.
"Don't look away, boy!" the demon snarled as Veronica's blade pierced its shoulder. "See how she dies for you!" It roared, spewing fire across the corridor.
But Veronica didn't flinch. She shielded Nex with her own aura, standing firm between him and the inferno. The flames seared her coat, split the stone, but her back never wavered.
She turned her head slightly, just enough for Nex to hear. "Breathe. No matter how dark it feels—don't let go of yourself."
Then she charged again, her blade singing through the air, cleaving the demon's jaw in half.
The monster shrieked, staggering back, ichor painting the floor. It slashed wildly, fury boiling, but Veronica's strikes carved through rage itself. She cut through its arm, its wing, its chest, every motion filled with both violence and mercy.
To Nex, watching through blurred vision, it was the first time since the nightmare began that the suffocating despair loosened its grip.
She was a stranger. She didn't know him. But she still fought for him.
The corridor shook as the battle dragged on.
The demon's body was a mass of wounds—its wings shredded, ichor dripping in torrents, half its jaw dangling uselessly. Yet, it laughed. Every sound echoed like bone grinding against stone.
"Hunter… you're strong," it rasped, dragging its claw across the wall, gouging lines into solid steel. "But you bleed… and I smell it."
It lunged again.
Veronica met the strike, sparks and blood spraying as her sword clashed with its talons. The shockwave sent Nex sprawling against the wall, his ears ringing. He forced himself up, coughing blood, unable to look away.
The fight was brutal—far beyond the elegant duels of academy training. This was survival. This was a war of attrition.
The demon tore chunks of the ceiling and hurled them; Veronica sliced them apart mid-air. Its claws raked across her side, leaving blood on her crimson coat; she answered with a kick that snapped its ribs. It howled and slammed her into the floor, stone shattering beneath them, then reeled back as her sword erupted in light, searing a hole through its chest.
Neither yielded.
Minutes stretched into an eternity.
Every time Veronica cut it down, the demon rose again, howling with rage. Its aura crashed like a tide of corruption, pressing Nex to his knees, forcing bile into his throat. He watched helplessly, every blink burning into memory—her figure moving like flame in the dark, her kindness steady even as she carved through madness.
"Why do you fight for him?!" the demon shrieked, pointing at Nex with a bloodied claw. "That pathetic worm isn't worth a breath! Join me, and I'll give you power!"
Veronica's blade spun, cleaving the arm clean off. Ichor sprayed across her face, but her voice was calm—like an oath spoken at dawn.
"You'll never understand."
The demon reeled back, one wing broken, limbs torn, chest a gaping hole—but still, it grinned with jagged teeth. "Then fall with him!"
It gathered all its remaining mana, black energy flooding the corridor, a sphere of primal destruction forming in its maw. The walls warped, stone turning to dust under the pressure. Even Nex's breath was crushed from his lungs.
For the first time, he thought Veronica might fail.
But she only lowered her blade… took one step forward… and whispered, "Rest."
Mana exploded around her, blazing pure and sharp. For an instant, Nex thought he saw wings of light unfurl behind her. The entire world dimmed—everything except the glow of her sword.
Then came the strike.
One single slash.
The corridor split in half. The sphere of destruction was carved apart like paper. The demon froze mid-laugh—its body unraveling, splitting down the middle, ichor boiling away into ash.
Its last sound was not a roar, but a gasp.
Veronica exhaled softly, lowering her sword as the ashes scattered. The storm was over.
Nex, shaking, half-blind, blood pooling beneath him, looked up at her. For the first time since entering this nightmare, the crushing pressure lifted.
And she turned to him—not with cold detachment, not with arrogance. But with the same kindness she carried into battle.
"You're alive," she said softly. "That's enough."