Just when the Duchy seemed to be holding the line, a strange silence spread across the battlefield. It was not merely emptiness—it was as if the air itself had stopped moving.
Then something descended.
Not from a rift in the earth, nor from the surrounding forests. Not from any known structure. It emerged from the Stellar Cloud, suspended above the Duchy's sky, motionless and ominous like an all-seeing eye.
The dying demon, nourished by the divine energy of a lesser god, began to materialize. It did not form a complete body—but it did create an epicenter of magical gravity. A living collapse. A mana singularity that devoured everything around it.
The battlefield reacted instantly.
Mana began draining at a terrifying pace. The mages in the towers collapsed to their knees, unable to sustain even their simplest spells. The beasts of the riders roared and recoiled in terror. The mana barriers of the defensive cities cracked and splintered like fragile glass.
Lord techniques unraveled in midair.Magister shields fragmented into nothingness.War artifacts ceased functioning, as if their very essence were being consumed by the void.
Larriet, the solar lion, stepped back several paces—showing for the first time a fear that was raw and unmistakable.
And within that abyss of corrupted energy… he appeared.
The demon.
Its eyes burned with a fire that did not belong to this world, and the distortion of mana around it twisted the very ground as though the land itself were writhing in agony.
Sofía watched without blinking, her spear raised, the aura of Alpha Attunement swirling around her. Her words cut through the air like a blade.
"So this… was the real danger."
The entire sky burned.
Not with fire—but with overflowing mana, warped and writhing like luminous serpents strangling reality itself. Chunks of earth floated into the air. Mutated trees roared like beasts. Rivers boiled under the influence of demonic power.
The world had become a living chaos.
Every creature, every human, every defender of the Duchy could feel it: this was not an enemy that could be defeated with ordinary tactics. This was something older, darker, more absolute.
The Duchy's capital had become a battlefield between worlds.
Magical beast riders fought to the death. Colossal birds collided with winged monsters. Mana serpents devoured lesser demons. Level 70–80 magical felines continued fighting even after their riders had fallen.
Douglas mages unleashed massive area spells, setting kilometers of land ablaze, while Lord warriors fell surrounded by level 85–90 enemies.
The world vibrated.
As if the planet itself were screaming.
And before them… the formless demon.
A living void. A dimensional black hole devouring everything—magic, earth, air, light, life. The pressure was so overwhelming that nearby Magisters collapsed simply by standing within a hundred meters of it.
And yet… there was a limit.
Every second that this partial form remained in the mortal plane drained its own essence. Its existence was fragile, sustained only by the lingering power of the lesser god that had manifested it and by the mana it devoured from the battlefield.
With each passing moment, its stability declined.
If Sofía and Larriet could hold it back—even for a few minutes—the creature could not maintain its existence forever.
Sofía tightened her grip on her spear, fully aware that there was no time to waste. Her body bled, her armor was torn to shreds, but her determination burned brighter than ever.
Larriet roared beside her. Each swipe of his claws shattered the demon's attacks with sheer force, disintegrating tendrils of darkness and shielding the soldiers and mages who still resisted.
It was a battle of titans.
Every spell, every blow, every shockwave consumed precious seconds. As the demon attempted to drain Sofía's mana, Larriet launched devastating charges that tore apart the currents of black energy.
Trees floated. Rivers boiled.
And still the Duchess advanced—technique after technique—without yielding an inch.
Every minute mattered.
Every second the demon survived meant more lives lost in the Duchy: villagers trapped between assaults, Douglas soldiers falling beneath corrupted hordes, mages drained by the distortion of mana.
Every moment was a race against death.
Sofía understood that victory could not rely on absolute strength, but on precision and speed. Every technique had to be flawless. Every order had to synchronize with Larriet's movements and roars.
It was a deadly dance.
A choreography of power and desperation where a single second of error meant another life lost.
And yet, despite the chaos and the demon's insatiable hunger, the Duchess did not yield.
Each strike she delivered—each defense Larriet executed—shortened the monster's lifespan. Its existence was finite. Its victory possible, but far from certain.
The battle was far from over, but a thin thread of hope remained:
As long as Sofía and Larriet endured—as long as they held the line with every ounce of their power—the demon could be contained.
And perhaps… defeated.
The demon seemed to understand that its time was running out.
Its partial form began to glow with concentrated dark mana. From its core erupted waves of demonic energy like tidal surges of pure destruction. Trees exploded into flames of corrupted mana. Rocks and fragments of earth were hurled for kilometers. Even the atmosphere trembled with its fury.
Every strike, every burst of energy seemed designed to grind and devour everything in its path.
Even Larriet and Sofía felt the direct impact.
The ground trembled.
The pressure of the void intensified to an unbearable degree.
The lion answered with another roar—deeper and fiercer than ever—channeling his raw strength to contain the demonic assault.
Sofía, her spear blazing with mana, synchronized her power with Larriet's, creating a shield of resistance that endured, minute by minute, against the demon's desperate attack.
She held on—even as every second threatened to tear her apart.
The pressure of the demonic void began ripping at her skin. Her flesh burned as though distorted mana were piercing down to the bone. Every breath was a struggle. Every movement a monumental effort.
Larriet roared with a power that shook the earth itself, the sound merging with the howls of beasts and the cries of the Duchy's soldiers.
"Larriet! Fall back!" Sofía ordered, her voice broken by exhaustion and pain.
But Larriet did not obey.
His loyalty was absolute.
She was his leader—his pack bond.
His claws shattered the demon's attacks. His body radiated pure mana that shielded nearby allies. His eyes blazed with the fury of one ready to give everything.
He could not retreat.
He could not leave Sofía alone.
Every charge Larriet launched created shockwaves that pushed back the void, deflecting its hunger for mana. Every roar, every leap, every strike kept hope alive as the Duchess struggled simply to remain standing.
"No… I can't let this end… here…" Sofía whispered through clenched teeth, feeling time slipping through her fingers. "Hold on, Larriet… just a little longer."
For a moment—before the crushing pressure threatened to suffocate her—a memory surfaced in her mind.
Lusian as a child.
Pointing toward the sky with shining eyes and declaring with the certainty of a hero:
"One day I'll protect this place with you, Mom."
The memory gave her strength.
A flash of light amid the chaos.
Larriet felt Sofía's will. With a roar that shook the very foundations of the Duchy, he lunged forward. His assault was brutal: an arc of claws that would have pulverized any monster crashed down upon the demon.
But each movement drained more and more of the lion's energy.
His muscles burned.
His breathing became a titanic effort.
And still… he did not yield.
The demon, aware that its time in the mortal plane was limited, intensified its attack. An eruption of black mana—pure concentrated corruption—spread toward them like a tsunami.
The air became solid, crushingly heavy.
Stones began to levitate, twisting in the warped gravity radiating from the epicenter.
Sofía clenched her teeth, gripping her spear with all her strength.
"Larriet—block the attack!" she commanded.
The lion roared and lunged forward, absorbing the impact with the combined force of his body and mana.
The shockwave struck everything nearby, hurling several Douglas soldiers through the air.
But there was a limit.
The void the demon had created could not sustain itself in the mortal plane much longer. Every attack, every spell it absorbed weakened its anchor to this world.
Sofía fought with every fiber of her being, buying time, while Larriet protected their allies with a strength that seemed almost supernatural.
The sky, the mountains, and the streets trembled beneath the clash of titans.
The battle for the Duchy… had only just begun.