Chapter 64: Good or Evil

Sometimes, the hardest battle isn’t against a powerful enemy… but against yourself.
Because good and evil aren’t drawn in clean lines. They’re not two separate roads. They’re tracks that cross, blur, and refuse to be absolute. And within that labyrinth of choices, every step leaves a scar; every decision becomes either a shadow… or a light.

Edén — still exhausted, broken — was beginning to understand that true power doesn’t come from hatred or vengeance, but from the conflict between who you wish to be… and who the world needs you to become.
There are no easy answers to questions as deeply human as:
What is just? What is necessary? What is right?
But even in the midst of doubt, one thing remains — the desire to protect. Even when we don’t know how… even when we’re afraid to fail again.
And it’s there, in that precise moment when the soul trembles and the body can go no further, that one begins to grasp the true meaning of power.
Not to dominate.
Not to destroy.
But to choose.

——————————————————————————————————————————

The wind blew gently over the hills of Santay, carrying the last whispers of a battle that had changed everything. Edén stood atop a ridge, gazing at the horizon with narrowed eyes. Despite the recent chaos, the land before him seemed untouched… almost peaceful.

“It’s a beautiful view…” he whispered — and then collapsed, drained, onto the ground.
Damn it… he thought, struggling to stay conscious. Every second gets worse. I don’t think I can stay awake much longer.

His breathing was ragged. His body felt as heavy as stone. Little by little, the dark aura surrounding him began to fade, his form returning to something more human… more fragile.

“Edén!” Quil’s voice echoed nearby, filled with panic.
He lifted his head just enough to see her running toward him.
“Your Majesty…”
“That’s strange,” she said with a faint, melancholic smile. “Hearing you call me that.”
“In a way… I owe you my life,” he replied weakly.
“That’s what I should be telling you,” she said softly.

Edén averted his gaze.
“That’s not true. If it weren’t for Zero, I wouldn’t have managed anything.”
“Stop downplaying what you’ve done, idiot.”
“Sorry…”
“Don’t be,” she said, kneeling beside him. “Really, what you did was more than enough. Maybe you can’t see it yet, but you gave it everything you had… and that makes you brave.”

He stared at her, surprised.
“I really am sorry. I think… I could’ve done more. But… I couldn’t save him.”
Quil gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You’re a good boy, Edén.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t know why you hide that side of yourself, but you should show it more often.”
“What do you mean?”
She only smiled.
“It’s nothing. Just remember this: as the ruler of Santay, and on behalf of all its people, you have our gratitude. This will always be your home.”

With effort, Edén bowed before her, trembling from exhaustion.
“Thank you… Your Majesty.”

Then Atahualpa appeared — tall, steady, carrying the kind of respect reserved for those who fought with honor.
“As King of the Inca Empire, I thank you as well, Edén Yomi. I recognize you as a powerful warrior… and as a friend. Thank you.”
“It’s an honor,” Edén replied, struggling to stand upright.
“My kingdom will also be your home. Never forget to stand for what you believe in, even if the whole world tells you you’re wrong.”
“I won’t!”

“By the way,” Quil interjected, “Zero left something for you.”
She handed him a small glowing sphere — warm to the touch.
“What’s this?”
“He said that with it… you could return home.”

Edén looked at it with a faint smile.
“That guy’s a genius.”
“Yes. He is.”

The sphere began to rise slowly into the sky. A vortex of light opened with a vibrant hum.
Edén took one last look at the kingdom — at Quil, at Atahualpa, at the land that for a few days had also been his home.
“I guess this is it. See you around…”
“I hope to see you again, Edén,” Quil said, her voice barely steady.

The young man’s body was drawn into the portal. And then, without warning, the rain began to fall.
“Are you crying?” Atahualpa asked softly.
“No… it’s the rain,” Quil replied — though the glimmer in her eyes betrayed the truth.

“What awaits us now?” he asked, gazing up at the gray sky.
“Who knows,” she murmured. “I’ve lost the only man I ever loved, my son, my kingdom… But I still have something — the will to go on. Those people inspired me. And you? What will you do?”
“I’ll stay,” he said firmly. “For a while, at least. I’ll lend you a hand.”
“Thank you, Atahualpa.”

The Inca bowed his head.
What would you have done, Guayas? he thought. All this time, you carried everyone’s burdens… and no one ever noticed.

With renewed resolve, Quil raised Guayas’s spear high toward the sky.
“Kingdom of Santay!”

The people fell silent, bowing before her.
“This is only the beginning. We may have lost everything in this battle — but we haven’t lost our faith. And as long as faith exists, Santay will live! Are you with me?”
“Yes!” the crowd roared as one.

“This time, no one will bear it all alone. We’ll do it together. If one falls, we’ll lift them. We’ll be a people who show the world our strength… and our hope!”
“Yes! Yes!”

Their voices echoed her name — Quil! — like a new song rising from the ashes.
And at last, Santay awakened.

The wind blew softly over the hills of Santay, carrying with it the last whispers of a battle that had changed everything.
Edén stood atop a ridge, gazing at the horizon with narrowed eyes. Despite the recent chaos, the land seemed untouched… almost serene.

“It’s a beautiful view…” he whispered — before collapsing, drained, onto the ground.
Damn it… he thought, struggling to stay conscious. Every second gets worse. I don’t think I can stay awake much longer.

His breathing grew shallow. His body felt as heavy as stone. Slowly, the dark form that had enveloped him began to fade, returning to his normal, human — fragile — appearance.

“Edén!” Quil’s voice rang nearby, full of worry.
He barely lifted his head and saw her running toward him.
“Your Majesty…”
“That’s strange,” she said with a wistful smile. “Hearing you call me that.”
“In a way… I owe you my life,” he murmured.
“That’s what I should be telling you,” she replied tenderly.

Edén looked away.
“That’s not true. If it weren’t for Zero, I couldn’t have done anything.”
“Stop belittling yourself, idiot.”
“Sorry…”
“Don’t be,” she said, kneeling beside him. “Really, what you did was more than enough. Maybe you don’t see it yet, but you gave everything you had… and that makes you brave.”

He looked at her, surprised.
“I’m really sorry. I think… I could’ve done more. But… I couldn’t save him.”
Quil gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You’re a good boy, Edén.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t know why you hide that side of yourself, but you should show it more often.”
“What do you mean?”
She just smiled.
“It’s nothing. Just remember this — as the ruler of Santay, and on behalf of all our people, you have our gratitude. This will always be your home.”

With great effort, Edén bowed before her, his body trembling from exhaustion.
“Thank you… Your Majesty.”

Then Atahualpa appeared, standing tall and resolute, his gaze filled with the kind of respect reserved only for those who fought with honor.
“As King of the Inca Empire, I thank you as well, Edén Yomi. I acknowledge you as a powerful warrior… and as a friend. Thank you.”
“It’s an honor,” Edén replied, forcing himself upright once more.
“My kingdom will also be your home. Never forget to stand for what you believe in — even if the whole world tells you you’re wrong.”
“I won’t!”

“By the way,” Quil interrupted, “Zero left something for you.”
She handed him a small, glowing sphere — warm to the touch.
“What’s this?”
“He said that with this… you could return home.”

Edén smiled faintly.
“That guy’s a genius.”
“Yes. He is.”

The sphere began to rise slowly into the sky. A vortex of light opened with a low, humming vibration.
Edén took one last look at the kingdom — at Quil, at Atahualpa, at the land that had been his home for a few fleeting days.
“I guess this is it. See you around…”
“I hope to see you again, Edén,” Quil said, her voice trembling.

The young man’s body was drawn into the portal — and then, without warning, the rain began to fall.
“Are you crying?” Atahualpa asked softly.
“No… it’s the rain,” Quil replied — though the shimmer in her eyes said otherwise.

“What awaits us now?” he asked, staring up at the gray sky.
“Who knows,” she murmured. “I’ve lost the only man I ever loved, my son, my kingdom… But I still have something left: the will to go on. Those people inspired me. And you? What will you do?”
“I’ll stay,” he said firmly. “For a while, at least. I’ll help you rebuild.”
“Thank you, Atahualpa.”

The Inca lowered his head.
What would you have done, Guayas? he thought. All this time, you carried everyone’s burdens… and no one ever noticed.

With new resolve, Quil raised Guayas’s spear high toward the sky.
“Kingdom of Santay!”

The people fell silent, bowing their heads in reverence.
“This is only the beginning. We may have lost everything in this battle — but we have not lost our faith. And as long as faith remains, Santay will live! Are you with me?”
“Yes!” the crowd roared in unison.

“This time, no one will bear it all alone. We’ll do it together. If one falls, we’ll lift them up. We’ll be a people who show the world our strength… and our hope!”
“Yes! Yes!”

Their voices rose together, chanting Quil’s name like a new song born from the ashes.
And at last… Santay awakened.

The waves broke gently against the coast of Grek, but the calm was only an illusion. Several warships bearing the emblems of Atlantis sailed through the waters, approaching the main harbor. On land, a group of students and soldiers waited, their eyes fixed on the horizon. Finally, the vessels began to dock one by one.

“Yuki!” Afrodita shouted, spotting a familiar figure stepping down from the main ship. “What happened to you?!”
Yuki smiled faintly, visibly exhausted, her arms wrapped in bandages and her body marked by half-healed cuts.
“Don’t worry…” she replied softly. “These are just the scars of my power.”
“Idiot,” Afrodita muttered, pulling her into a tight embrace as her eyes filled with tears she didn’t bother to hide.

Not far away, Lowa ran toward Zef and Yohei. The three of them met in a brief but heartfelt hug.
“Are you guys alright?” she asked, relieved.
Zef chuckled under his breath.
“Well… I’ve been better.”
“Good to hear,” Lowa sighed, then turned to Yohei with disbelief. “And you—why don’t you even look tired?”
Yohei, as indifferent as ever, looked away.
“They were all too weak. I still haven’t found anyone at my level.”
“I don’t even know why I bother asking,” Lowa muttered, shaking her head.

A short distance away, Zeus and Ares stood watching the returning fleet, arms crossed.
“When people saw that many ships heading to Atlantis, they panicked,” Zeus remarked.
“It’s the fault of that pink-haired idiot,” Ares grumbled. “He said he wanted to ‘strike fear into the enemy’ with a massive fleet.”
“Come on, admit it—wasn’t it kinda coo—”

Ares’s fist cut him off mid-sentence, planting Shun face-first into the ground.
“Shut your mouth,” Ares said flatly.
Zeus let out a weary smile.
“Still, everything seems to have gone well.”
“More or less,” Ares admitted. “We kept the casualties to a minimum. Yuki and Artemis were injured… but nothing serious.”
Zeus nodded thoughtfully.
“Once we reach Central, we’ll try to extract some information from Atlas. He doesn’t look like he’s going to resist much.”
“And what about my idiot brother?” Zeus asked.
“He hasn’t spoken since we set sail, but I think he’ll be fine,” Ares replied.
“Who knows,” Shun interrupted, lifting his dirt-covered face from the ground.
“What do you mean by that?” Ares raised an eyebrow.
“What if he’s just an empty body now? Wouldn’t that be a great theor—”

Another punch sent him back into the dirt.
“You only open your mouth to say stupid things,” Ares growled.
Shun groaned, his nose bleeding.
“By the way… hasn’t Edén arrived yet?”
“At least wipe your face, idiot,” Ares grumbled.
Zeus shook his head.
“No. We haven’t heard anything from him. We don’t know when—”

A deep humming sound interrupted him. In the middle of the camp, a portal suddenly opened, spilling blinding light onto the ground.
“Well, speak of the devil…” Shun muttered with a grin.

Edén emerged from the portal, his body completely spent. The moment his foot touched the ground, he collapsed.
“Edén!” Shu cried, rushing toward him.
Zeus narrowed his eyes.
“Do you feel that?”
“Feel what?” Ares asked.
“I don’t know… but it’s powerful.”
“It’s like going from the Foxy arc to Water 7…” Shun murmured. “He’s evolved too.”
Zeus blinked, utterly lost.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean…?”

“Quick!” Zeus ordered. “Take him to the infirmary!”
“Yes, sir!” the soldiers shouted as they carefully lifted Edén’s body.

Zeus turned to the group, his expression softening.
“The rest of you… welcome home.”

Smiles, tears, and silence intertwined as everyone began to reunite. The battle had ended… but new choices were already beginning to take shape in each of their hearts.

Darkness surrounded Edén like a thick mist. There was no sky, no ground, no walls—only a living void that seemed to watch him from every direction. Out of those shadows emerged the towering figure of Vorathrax, his inhuman, arrogant smile gleaming faintly in the dark.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing your face to me… after the humiliation you caused,” the demon growled, his voice deep and distorted.
Edén didn’t flinch.
“Oh, that? Forget it.”
Vorathrax narrowed his eyes.
“What did you say?”
“I said forget it.”

A low snarl echoed through the darkness.
“Damn human…”
“There’s no point in fighting each other,” Edén said firmly. “I want us to work together. I know I can’t control all of your power yet… but I will, someday.”
Vorathrax scoffed with disdain.
“Don’t even think about it. I don’t team up with humans.”
“Please,” Edén whispered.

Those simple, sincere words rippled through the void. Both the angel and Vorathrax stared at him in disbelief when Edén, without hesitation, bowed before them.
“I don’t know what our connection is… or why you’re part of me, but I need you. If I’m going to accomplish my goal, I need you.” He then turned slightly toward the light hovering behind him. “And I’m sorry, angel. I don’t know who you are or why you’re here, but I can’t use your power either. So… I can’t ask anything of you.”

Silence thickened.
“…Alright,” the angel finally murmured, her calm voice carrying an odd compassion.
Vorathrax turned away, visibly irritated, as if the scene itself made him uncomfortable.
“Tch… damn human. I’m not doing this for you. But to keep living… I need you to stay alive too.”

The words lingered strangely in the air. The angel narrowed her eyes, watching Vorathrax closely, but said nothing.
“So be it,” the demon continued. “I’ll accept your offer. But you’d better be ready—if you lose control, I’ll use your body however I please.”
Edén extended his hand. Vorathrax hesitated for a moment, then took it.
“I like the sound of that,” Edén said with a faint smile. “Deal.”

The instant their hands touched, a brilliant white light engulfed them both. The darkness was consumed entirely, and a deep sense of connection surged through Edén’s soul. A part of him had finally stopped resisting.

His eyes shot open in the infirmary. The white ceiling. A voice calling out—
“Edén!” Yuki’s cry pierced the air as she saw him awaken.
He blinked, disoriented.
“Eh…? Did I die? Why am I seeing demons?”
Yuki, trembling between relief and anger, bonked him lightly on the head.
“Idiot! Can’t you see we were worried sick about you?”
“You’re one to talk. You’re not exactly in shape to worry about anyone… What the hell happened to you?”
“It’s a long story,” Yuki said, crossing her arms.
“I’ve got nothing but time. Go on.”

At the doorway, Shu quietly stepped back. He smiled faintly at the scene, then turned away.
Guess I’ll leave them alone… he thought, slipping out.

He hadn’t gone far before another figure strode in — Shun.
“Sorry to interrupt, lovebirds,” he said with his usual cheeky grin. “But I need a word with Edén.”
Edén and Yuki exchanged glances, a blush creeping up both their faces.
“You can keep flirting later,” Shun added, nudging Shu to escort Yuki outside.

Once they were alone, his tone shifted.
“How are you feeling?”
“It’s weird hearing that from you. Did a god finally knock some sense into that thick skull of yours?”
Shun smacked him without hesitation.
“Agh! That hurts, idiot! Can’t you see my bones are broken?”
“Oh, I didn’t know…” Shun muttered innocently, looking away.
“Bastard…”

“So,” Shun continued, “did you see it?”
“Yeah. It was a short meeting, but… thank you. Although I still don’t get it—what did you gain from this?”
“Me?” Shun shrugged. “Who knows. Maybe it was just a gift. I didn’t really think about it.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll just pretend I believe you.”
“You’ve changed.”
“What do you mean? Do I look stronger? Or more handsome?”
“Sorry, that’s impossible,” Shun replied, waving his hands. “You’re still ugly and weak.”
“Asshole…”
“It’s been almost a year since I first met you,” Shun continued. “You always had that same dumb face — still do, actually. But now… you seem happier. You’ve found the right people. That’s good.”

Edén blinked, caught off guard. Words like that weren’t typical of Shun.
The rebellious god tossed him a sword wrapped in dark cloth.
“Looks like your old one got shattered. Take care of this one.”
And without another word, he turned and left the room.

“Shun… wait! Who the hell are you?! Where’s the real Shun?!”

Moments later, Edén was seen walking nervously down the hallway, sweat trailing down his temple.
From somewhere in the shadows, Shun’s voice echoed with a low chuckle.
“You’re a damn monster, Edén Yomi…”

The camera pulled back slightly. Edén’s body radiated a new, contained — yet dangerous — energy. The balance had only just begun to take form.

Sunlight filtered through the wide windows of the main classroom in Atlantis.
Though the air still carried the traces of the recent battle, it was charged with something new — a mix of renewal, nervousness, and determination.

Afrodita stood before everyone, radiating both authority and warmth. Her expression was calm, yet her eyes shone with unmistakable pride.
“Welcome back, everyone,” she announced firmly. “You’ve survived, you’ve grown, and you’ve proven that you’re ready to move forward. That’s why today, I’ll introduce those who will oversee your training for the second round of the Tournament of God… the three Archangels of GODS.”

A wave of murmurs rippled through the room. Some students stiffened; others barely managed to hide their astonishment.
The doors opened with a soft hum.
Three figures stepped across the threshold.

Every student instinctively rose to their feet.
Even the strongest among them bowed their heads in respect.
Only one remained seated — eyes wide, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“I’m ready for whatever comes next…” thought Edén, feeling his heart pound, not from fear, but from excitement.

The path was moving forward once more.
The next step had finally arrived.