The crimson aura exploded around Eldric like a dying sun. Energy crackled and pulsed, sending pressure waves that lifted dust and small stones from the ground. The nearest soldiers were pushed back by the sheer force of his manifested rage. His eyes glowed blood red—not metaphorically, but literally, as if hatred itself had replaced his pupils.
Drake stepped back involuntarily, his dragon instincts screaming that mortal danger was near. Kaito felt the weight of the power like physical pressure against his chest. Even Naporia, who never retreated from anything, assessed the situation with newfound caution.
Eldric had lost all control. Drake's betrayal had broken something fundamental in him—not just his pride, but his complete understanding of how the world worked. He was the hero. He was the favored of the gods. How dare an inferior reject him? How dare the failure be right?
And now, all that confusion, all that emotional pain he didn't know how to process, transformed into the only thing he'd ever understood: violence.
He activated Line Breaker at power levels he'd never reached before. The crimson aura intensified until it became almost solid, a layer of destructive energy that distorted the air around him. The ground beneath his feet cracked in a radial pattern. Small rocks began to levitate around him, caught in the vortex of his power.
And he charged.
Not toward Drake—that would come later. Toward Kaito. The origin of all this. The failure who dared to challenge the natural order. The one who needed to be erased from existence so the world could make sense again.
Adelheid moved before Kaito could even react. She interposed herself between them, sword raised, her body forming a living barrier. This time she wouldn't hesitate. This time she would go completely serious. She activated Iron Will not partially, not contained—but completely, without restrictions, without the self-imposed limits she normally maintained.
Silvery energy blazed around her, clashing against Eldric's crimson in the very air. Her consciousness expanded and simultaneously contracted. Pain—eliminated. Fear—erased. Doubt—nonexistent. What remained wasn't Adelheid the person. It was Adelheid the perfect war machine. Pure function. Absolute efficiency.
The impact was cataclysmic.
BOOOOM!
The shockwave expanded in all directions, throwing nearby soldiers to the ground. The ground between them sank several centimeters from the pressure. Both were pushed back—Eldric sliding five meters, Adelheid ten—but both remained standing.
And the true duel began.
Adelheid attacked first, her sword moving in perfect arcs that wasted not a millimeter of motion. Each strike was calculated not to impress but to kill, aiming for arteries, joints, weak points in armor. It was like watching a chess master play with pieces of steel.
Eldric blocked, deflected, counterattacked with force that shattered stone. His technique was less refined but compensated with raw power that bent that of a normal human. Every time their swords clashed, the sound was like hammer striking anvil.
For one glorious moment, they were equals. Adelheid in her purest, deadliest form versus Eldric in his maximum fury. Perfect technique against overwhelming force. Discipline against chaos. The battle both had been destined to fight from the beginning.
But then Eldric did something Adelheid, in her machine state, didn't fully predict. He feigned an attack toward her, but mid-stroke changed direction and charged directly at Kaito, who was twenty meters away.
Adelheid reacted—of course she reacted, her enhanced speed allowing her to turn and pursue. But for a fraction of a second, her focus split. She looked toward Kaito to assess the danger. Calculated whether to intercept or if Kaito could dodge.
That fraction of a second was enough.
Eldric had anticipated exactly that. His charge toward Kaito was a feint. The moment he felt Adelheid turn, the moment her attention wavered, he pivoted with speed that defied his size. His sword cut in a brutal arc aimed not at Kaito but at Adelheid, whose guard was momentarily lowered.
The blade struck her left side. Iron Will had hardened her body beyond human limits, but the power behind Eldric's strike was supernatural. The steel pierced armor, skin, muscle.
And emerged from the other side.
Adelheid looked down with eyes that suddenly regained emotion—surprise, pain, disbelief. The sword passed completely through her abdomen. Blood—too much blood—began soaking her armor.
Eldric twisted the blade before pulling it out.
Adelheid fell.
Not dramatically. Not with a heroic cry. Simply... fell. Her legs gave way and she collapsed to her knees, then forward, until she lay sprawled on the dusty valley floor. Blood pooled beneath her, dark and glistening in the sun.
---
Time seemed to stop. Kaito saw everything happen as if submerged in water—each moment stretched, every detail horribly clear. He saw the sword pierce Adelheid. Saw her expression change. Saw the blood.
"ADELHEID!"
The scream tore from his throat. He didn't think. Didn't calculate. He simply ran, his legs moving by instinct toward where she had fallen. He needed to reach her. Needed to stop the bleeding. Needed to do something, anything.
But Lilith was faster. She appeared from the side, her arms wrapping around his torso, dragging him back with surprising strength for her slender frame.
"If you go, he'll kill you!" Her voice was urgent, almost desperate. "Kaito, think! You're the commander! If you die, everyone dies!"
Kaito struggled against her, but Lilith activated her power subtly, just enough to slow him, confuse him. It wasn't full mind control—she'd never do that—but it was enough to stop him from doing something suicidal.
"Let me go! She's dying!"
"And you'll die too if you go!"
Eldric turned toward where Adelheid lay, his sword dripping blood. He began walking toward her with deliberate steps, clearly planning a final blow. His face showed cold satisfaction—the first emotion besides fury he'd displayed since Drake betrayed him.
And then something hit him from the side with meteor force.
---
Naporia had been dealing with enemy soldiers when she saw Adelheid fall. Something primal and furious awakened in her. They weren't exactly friends—they tolerated each other, competed, occasionally clashed. But they were comrades. Queens under the same commander. And no one—NO ONE—touched her comrades.
Her speed tripled. The soldiers between her and Eldric didn't even see her move—they just felt the wind of her passage and the pain when her sword cut them down without really stopping to fight.
She struck Eldric like a bullet, her shoulder impacting his side with enough force to throw him five meters sideways. Eldric rolled, regained his balance, and found himself face to face with the smallest but no less lethal empress.
"No one touches my comrades," Naporia growled, her voice low and dangerous.
Eldric spat blood from where he'd bitten his inner lip on impact.
"Another pet. How many does the failure have?"
Naporia didn't respond with words. She attacked.
The battle was like watching two fundamentally opposing styles clash. Naporia was speed and pure technique—her sword moved in patterns that seemed impossible, attacking from angles that shouldn't exist, using her small size to move under and around Eldric's attacks.
Eldric was power and destruction—every blow designed to crush, every move to dominate through brute force. He didn't bother dodging completely; he allowed Naporia's attacks to hit him if it meant he could counterattack.
And for a time, it worked. Naporia cut his arm—superficial. His leg—deeper. His shoulder—almost to the bone. But Eldric ignored pain as if it didn't exist, his crimson aura cauterizing wounds almost as fast as they formed.
And when he landed a blow on Naporia, the impact was devastating. He hit her once—barely a glancing blow—and sent her flying three meters. She landed in a crouch, spat blood, and attacked again. But Kaito, watching from where Lilith still held him, could see the truth.
Naporia was losing. Not immediately. Not obviously. But she was losing.
Eldric was too strong in this state. Every blow Naporia landed healed. Every blow he landed accumulated damage. It was a matter of time.
---
On the other side of the battlefield, Marcus faced his own personal nightmare. Drake, in his full semi-dragon form, attacked him with claws that could shred steel. And Lilith, ever present at the edges, whispered things that made nearby soldiers forget which side they were on.
But what truly broke Marcus wasn't physical danger. It was emotional.
"Drake!" he shouted while blocking another flurry of claws. "You can still come back! This doesn't have to be this way!"
Drake shook his head, his voice distorted by transformation but still understandable.
"There's no turning back, Marcus. I've already chosen."
"But we're brothers! We trained together! Fought together!"
Drake struck harder, pushing Marcus back.
"And now we fight on opposite sides. It's simpler this way."
Marcus blocked, but his movements were slow, hesitant. He didn't want to hurt Drake. He couldn't. They were more than teammates—they'd saved each other's lives dozens of times. They'd shared meals, jokes, dreams about what they'd do when the war ended.
Lilith noticed the hesitation. She moved closer, her whispers becoming more specific, more targeted. Names of shared moments between them, twisted slightly, changed until Marcus began to doubt his own memories.
Had Drake really been his friend? Or had he just been waiting for an opportunity to betray him?
"I... I can't..." Marcus fell to his knees, his shield lowering. "I can't kill you."
Drake stopped before him. For a moment, something soft crossed his transformed face. Memory of friendship. Grief for what was lost.
"I know," he said simply.
And he knocked him out with a controlled blow to the side of the head. Marcus crumpled, unconscious but alive.
Drake looked at his fallen body for several seconds. Then he turned and walked away, back toward where Kaito needed help.
---
In the elevated section of the valley, both archers were at their last strength. Aria had exhausted four of her five daily teleports. Her wounded arm was bleeding again—the stitches had opened under stress. Selene had two moon arrows remaining, and every breath hurt from a rib Aria had managed to fracture with a deflected arrow that struck her side.
Selene aimed directly at Aria's heart, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Why?" Her voice cracked. "We were friends! I trusted you with everything! And you abandoned me!"
Aria lowered her bow slowly, her expression sad but resolute.
"And you're still my friend. That's why I won't kill you."
Selene blinked, confused by the declaration.
Aria used her last teleportation. Her arrow appeared not aiming at Selene, but at her bow. It struck the wood right at the handle, with enough force and perfect angle to rip it from Selene's hands.
Selene stood disarmed, her bow falling down the cliff behind her. She stood there, defenseless, waiting for the final blow.
But Aria lowered her own weapon completely.
"Go. Tell Avernor it's over. That Eldric lost. That we're no longer their enemies if they stop being ours."
Selene stared at her in disbelief.
"Why? Why do you forgive me?"
Aria smiled sadly.
"Because someone forgave me. And I hope someday you'll understand why I did what I did."
Selene hesitated, then slowly nodded. She backed away, turned, and ran—not with dignity, but with raw survival. She fled the battlefield.
Aria watched her go, then collapsed against a rock, completely exhausted. She'd done her part. Now she could only pray it was enough.
---