The Fall of Hope

As Kazuki and the others fought their way up the tower, things were going poorly for their companions on battlefield.

The demon numbers had thinned, but they had been a legion to begin with. Even with Alvis's conjured army cutting through their ranks, too many still pressed forward. Each wave fought harder against the assault group's line.

Caliondur loosed arrows as fast as his hands could string them, but even he noticed the change—the summoned soldiers of earth and flame were weakening. Their strikes grew sluggish, their movements brittle, crumbling faster than before. His sharp eyes darted to Alvis.

The mage was on his knees; one hand braced against the staff. Sweat streaked his pale face, lips trembling as he forced breath through clenched teeth.

Caliondur rushed to him, gripping his shoulder. "Alvis, are you all right? Your army—it's fading."

Alvis's eyes were glassy, but he managed a faint smile. "The toll… is heavier than I thought. This staff devours mana like fire devours dry wood. I don't know… how much longer I can sustain them."

"You've done enough." Caliondur's jaw tightened. He rose, knocking another arrow into his bow. "I'll move to the front and hold them from afar. If anything dares to approach, they'll fall before they reach you."

Alvis shook his head, voice low, almost too faint to hear. "Go… Don't worry about me."

High above, Verena never stopped moving. She carved through the sky, launching wind bullets and slicing the demons with crescent blades of air.

Across the field, the battle raged differently.

Gorran braced his hammer as Shargûl lunged, the monstrous hound snapping with jaws of mismatched fangs. Each blow from Gorran's weapon was like a thunderclap, shaking the ground, but still the beast came, stitched limbs refusing to break.

Nearby, Maeryn danced between strikes of Varkhul's chain whip, sparks and embers bursting with every clash. With her free hand she hurled fire, forcing the demon horde back, walls of flame roaring to hold them at bay.

The chain sang through the air again. Maeryn twisted aside, but not far enough—links bit into her arm, tearing skin. Another strike lashed her shoulder, drawing a hiss through clenched teeth. She barely dodged before the whip cracked across her leg, staggering her. Then the last strike kissed her cheek, leaving a thin red line down her face.

Varkhul's helm tilted, voice dripping with mockery. "You are a feisty woman. But don't worry… I'll break you before I offer you to my lord."

Maeryn spat, flames wreathing her fists in defiance.

Not far from her, Gorran and Shargûl were locked in their own storm of violence. The monstrous hound lunged with impossible speed, its patchwork limbs propelling it like a siege engine given flesh. Gorran met the charge head-on, hammer roaring down with the weight of mountains. The blow smashed into Shargûl's ribs, sending the beast rolling, but it clawed back up, its mismatched legs scrambling for ground.

The hound leapt again, jaws snapping for his throat. Gorran ducked low and swung upward, hammer crunching against its jaw. A sound like boulders grinding echoed as broken fangs scattered across the battlefield. Still the creature pressed forward, raking at him with its scaled limb.

Gorran's muscles burned, but his grin never faded. He braced, lifted the hammer overhead, and with a roar slammed it down. The ground cracked. Shargûl's skull caved under the force, the beast collapsing in a heap of twisted limbs.

For a heartbeat, silence.

Then the flesh began to knit. Bones groaned. Shattered fragments pulled back into place. The beast stirred.

Gorran stepped back, discomfort flickering across his face for the first time. "Tch."

Varkhul's laughter rang out, metallic and mocking. "Did you like that? I stitched every part myself. And Mother breathed life into it. Shargûl will not die so easily."

The heavy doors of the tower's chamber creaked open.

Inside, the vast hall was lit only by pale blue flames that guttered in sconces along the walls. At its heart stood the Demon Lord himself. His blackened steel greatsword rested against his shoulder.

He lifted his head slowly, crimson eyes burning with cruel hunger. A grin cut across his face.

"Enough waiting," he growled. "Let's start this fight already. Come on."

Kazuki's grip tightened on his sword. Zephyr, Ardent, and Vada spread out slowly at his flanks, circling cautiously. The sheer pressure of the Demon Lord's presence pressed against their lungs — but something was off.

Where was the mage?

The chamber was too quiet.

Then it struck — a streak of black fire arcing from the shadows. Zephyr barely raised her sword in time, sparks flying as she deflected it. Laughter rolled from the far side of the hall.

From the shadows, the mage stepped out with a grin.

"Forgotten me already?"

As she spoke that, her form melted into darkness, vanishing. A heartbeat later, a spear of shadow ripped from the wall near Vada, forcing her to dart into the air. Then another flared from the ceiling toward Ardent.

The Demon Lord charged, greatsword swinging with terrifying force. Kazuki met the strike, but the instant their weapons clashed he felt it — the relic in his chest burning as the Demon Lord drained at his dark power, feeding on it. His knees buckled from the pull, but he pushed back with a roar, light flaring along his sword.

Zephyr moved to his side, unleashing a charged strike to force the Demon Lord a step back. Yet before they could press the advantage, the mage reappeared behind her, shadow tendrils lashing like whips.

The rhythm of the fight fell into a deadly rotation. the Demon Lord hammering them head-on with brutal swings of his massive sword, while the mage slipped between shadows, launching surprise strikes that cut from angles unseen. One distracted, the other struck.

Zephyr moved forward, her sword flashing with light, and struck into the shadow at the far wall. The mage hissed, slipping to another veil of darkness—only for Ardent to already be waiting, his eyes narrowing as he predicted her move.

Then he unleashed a roaring slash of water.

The arc of liquid carved through the darkness, striking true. The mage screamed, staggering back as the cut ripped across her face, slicing through her left eye. She clutched her wound with a trembling hand.

"You dare!" she shrieked, her voice breaking into a furious wail.

Before she could hide away again, Vada flew towards her and ripped the mage out from the shadows and hurled her to the far corner of the hall. The mage hit the ground hard, but with a hiss of power she thrust out both hands. Chains of black lashed out, seizing Vada and Zephyr and dragging them into her corner. A shimmering wall of darkness rose around them, cutting them off from Kazuki and Ardent.

For a moment, Kazuki's eyes flicked to Zephyr—her hands straining against the chains, her brown hair wild in the fight.

That moment was enough.

The Demon Lord roared, closing the distance in a blur. His greatsword came down with monstrous force. Kazuki snapped his sword up to block—but the impact split the blade in two with a sharp, ringing crack.

Before the strike could cleave him down, Ardent stepped in, his own sword locking against the Demon Lord's weapon.

"Move, Kazuki!" he shouted, pushing him back.

But the Demon Lord's grin spread wide as his tail lashed forward like a spear piercing through Ardent's stomach.

Kazuki froze, eyes widening in horror.

The Demon Lord leaned close, his voice a cruel whisper.

"Did you think the tale was just for decoration?"

Ardent coughed blood but did not falter. With a snarl, he gripped the tail with one hand and swung his blade, cutting clean through it. The Demon Lord screamed in agony.

"You old bastard!" the fiend roared, slamming a fist into Ardent's chest.

The impact hurled him across the chamber. He crashed into the stone wall, the impact shattering the masonry behind him. He slumped, blood dripping from his mouth, breath ragged.

"Master Ardent!" Kazuki's voice broke as he rushed to his side, holding him before he collapsed fully to the ground. His hands trembled as he held the old swordsman, disbelief and rage twisting his face.

"No… no! Master!"

On the battlefield, as Gorran swing hit the hound's head, it rotated like an owl's and suddenly sank its teeth into Gorran's right arm, tearing flesh; his roar of pain split through the din. Maeryn's head whipped toward him—only to cry out herself as Varkhul's whip slashed across her thigh, severing muscle and sending her collapsing to the ground.

Caliondur loosed another arrow, but his eyes widened in horror as Alvis collapsed, the last of his conjured army faded into nothing.

Kazuki cradling Ardent's fading body. Gorran's arm trapped in Shargûl's jaw, as he watched Maeryn crawling away from Varkhul. With Alvis's army gone, the demons start marching towards them. Fear seeped into their hearts and despair taking its throne.