Kirito froze, his eyes widening in disbelief at the words he had just heard.
Asuna raised a trembling hand to her lips, unable to speak, because she understood the weight of that moment, for a man who had locked himself away in darkness for so many years.
"You… truly…" Kirito's voice faltered, unsure whether what he felt was joy or an overwhelming reverence.
Yofilis did not answer right away. He merely tilted his head slightly, letting his long silver hair fall over and cover part of his scar, before his steady gaze turned toward the two young warriors.
"You have awakened in me something I thought long dead… the desire to stand beside my comrades, instead of watching them fall through this cold window."
Asuna's eyes glimmered with tears. She took a step forward and placed her hand upon the heavy iron door. "Then… let us take you there. To those who need you."
Kirito gripped his sword tightly, a faint, trembling smile appearing on his face. "We'll step into the light together."
But just then, the sound of clashing blades echoed louder from the corridor behind them. Kirito and Asuna both turned sharply, realization dawning upon them.
"Ren…" Asuna breathed, her voice trembling with worry.
Yofilis frowned slightly. "One of your companions is still fighting?"
Kirito nodded firmly, his eyes flashing with urgency. "He stayed behind to hold off the enemy while we came to find you. If we don't return now, he'll..."
Asuna didn't let him finish. She had already drawn her rapier, her knuckles pale from gripping it so tightly.
Yofilis looked at the two of them, his eyes filled with both emotion and solemn resolve. Slowly, he stood, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
"Then before I step into the light… let us return to the darkness one last time. We will not leave anyone behind."
The heavy door creaked open, and a cold gust from the dim corridor rushed against their faces.
Before they could even react, a figure came crashing out like a broken arrow, sliding past their shoulders and slamming violently into the stone wall behind them.
Crack!! The horrifying sound echoed through the silent hall, as thin fractures split across the wall like bleeding wounds.
"Ren!!" Kirito nearly screamed.
The figure slid down the wall, leaving behind a long smear of red pixelated blood.
Ren's body was covered in wounds; his black chestplate was cracked, its glowing edges flickering and fading like fractured glass.
Each ragged breath he took cut into his lungs like a blade.
Asuna stood frozen, trembling hands half-raised to rush forward, but she stopped when the sound of dragging metal echoed from the end of the corridor.
A voice slithered through the darkness, cold and venomous, every word dripping like poison onto the stone floor.
"Oh… how surprising. This brat… he's like a cockroach, isn't he?
No matter how many times I crush him, he just keeps crawling back, waiting for you to arrive. Is that it, my dear teacher?"
The voice tore through the air, and the whole corridor seemed to grow heavier.
Varzak emerged from the shadows, tall and gaunt, his muscular arm half-exposed beneath a tattered, bloodstained cuirass. Faint glimmers of light danced across the wounds on his body, evidence of a battle fought to the edge of death.
But unlike Ren, each strike only seemed to feed him, sharpening the twisted hunger carved across his face.
His eyes bulging, feral gleamed with madness. When they found Yofilis standing there, he stopped for a breath, then a sickening smile split across his scarred face.
"So at last… you crawl out of your cave."
His voice dripped with mockery and hatred, a feverish tone from someone torn between thirst for blood and a desperate need to prove his worth.
Ren lay motionless for a long moment, his body like shattered glass; every breath he took rasped like a scream through his chest.
Crimson pixel blood spread over his armor, his face, and the cold stone beneath him. Kirito quickly forced a healing potion to Ren's lips.
Ren's eyes opened wide, catching sight of Yofilis the resolve in the viscount's gaze made something within Ren tighten painfully.
He tried to rise, one hand digging into the cracked stone, as though trying to pull the whole world up with him.
Every movement sent a spear of pain through his bones, yet his will only grew stronger.
Ren pushed himself up, not from hatred toward his enemy, but from the fury he held for his own weakness, from the promise he had made to his friends.
"Stand." Yofilis's voice rang out as he stepped forward, sharp and commanding, like a decree of life itself.
That single word "stand" carried weight. It was not a command for others, but for himself.
Yofilis advanced step by step, the sound of his leather boots striking the cold floor resonating like a war drum.
His long dark cloak swayed behind him with each movement, catching the flicker of torchlight that danced across his face.
The fierce scar running from his hairline, across his left eye, down to his chin was revealed, like a mark carved by destiny itself.
Then he removed his hood.
But contrary to what Kirito, Asuna, and Ren had imagined...a withered, hollow old noble, what stood before them was a tall, striking man, his face weathered yet still bearing an unmistakable pride.
Yofilis's long black hair was tied neatly behind him, revealing deep blue-gray eyes that glowed in the wavering firelight, a gaze cold yet profound, both questioning and defying fate itself.
His skin was paler than most Dark Elves, which made the scar across his face blaze all the more vividly, beautiful and haunting at once.
His noble attire seemed to belong to another world: a long rococo-style coat adorned with intricate embroidery, silver buttons gleaming faintly.
Beneath it, a fitted gilet hugged his frame, matched with tailored knee-breeches, white stockings, and immaculate gloves. The ruffled edge of his cravat swayed gently in the passing breeze.
A Dark Elf who had hidden in the shadows for so long, after years of seclusion, now carried the aura of a nobleman stepping straight into the opening act of a blood-soaked waltz.
The gloved fingers tightened around the hilt. A cold shing rang out as Yofilis drew the slender blade from his waist, its chilling gleam cutting through the stifling air.
He raised it to shoulder height, the motion clean, precise, graceful, like a dancer poised upon a grand stage. It was not a show of dominance, but an undeniable declaration: the leader had returned.
Varzak narrowed his eyes, then burst into laughter, a harsh, jagged sound like shattered glass being ground underfoot. "Oh…"
He curled his lips into a sneer and stepped forward, the iron of his boots grinding against the stone. Each stride was a provocation, like claws scratching at the gate that separated darkness from light.
"The noble viscount, huh? Finally decided to crawl out of your hole?" his voice stretched out, thick with mockery. Then he tilted his head, the twisted grin deepening. "How adorable."
"I don't recall ever teaching you to strike so mercilessly against children."
Yofilis's voice resonated low and steady... not too loud, but carrying a weight that demanded silence. His gray-blue eyes locked onto Varzak's, sharp as a blade that cut through pretense and pride alike.
Ren muttered under his breath, disbelief trembling in his voice. "Children…?"
For a heartbeat, his chest stilled. But then he realized, compared to the endless years of an Elf's lifespan, the fleeting youth of a human truly was little more than that.
That thought made Ren bite his lip, though he soon noticed his body growing lighter as the two healing potions began to take effect, the crimson cracks across his armor slowly fading.
Varzak lowered his head slightly before letting out a rasping, broken laugh. "Still as talkative as ever."
The grin on his face stretched the long scar running across his cheek, twisting it into something monstrous.
But deep within those burning red eyes, beyond mockery, flickered a spark of madness, the pain of an abandoned child, desperately clawing for recognition from the man who had once been his master.
Yofilis didn't answer immediately.
He took another slow step forward, his slender sword cutting a clean arc through the air, a silent reminder that what he had once taught had never vanished. It was only the betrayer who had warped it into something grotesque.
Varzak didn't wait. He clenched his teeth, swung his dull-gray blade in a sweeping arc, as a dim aura burst along its edge.
His footsteps thundered across the stone floor, then vanished in a flash of motion as he lunged forward.
[Rend Fang]!
Varzak's growling roar merged with the gleam of steel as it came crashing down, fierce enough to tear the very air apart.
But Yofilis was ready. He pivoted half a turn, cloak swirling wide, and his slender sword intercepted the strike with perfect precision.
A sharp clang erupted, sparks flaring bright across the hallway.
"Still loud and reckless as ever…" Yofilis murmured, his tone calm, but sharp enough to pierce through Varzak's rage.
Varzak gritted his teeth, muscles bulging, and pushed harder. "And you're still arrogant as always!"
He twisted his wrist, driving his blade in a sudden feint toward Yofilis's side.
But Yofilis only shifted his shoulder, his sword slid along Varzak's, deflecting it effortlessly, like brushing aside a child's tantrum.
From the distance, Ren, Kirito, and Asuna watched with pounding hearts. Every motion flashed like lightning.. too fast for the eye to follow.
Yet Ren could feel it clearly: Yofilis wasn't just fighting.
He was teaching Varzak again... every movement, every strike, a cruel reminder of the lessons long betrayed.
"You've learned many techniques…" Yofilis exhaled, his sword cutting a clean horizontal line, forcing Varzak back a step.
"But all of them, only for destruction. A true warrior does not live on hatred alone, Varzak."
The words drove Varzak into madness. He roared, eyes blazing crimson, and surged forward, his twin blades bursting into a storm of strikes, relentless and furious.
Yofilis took half a step back, his dark cloak flaring like the wings of a black bird, then suddenly lunged, his slender sword thrusting forward.
The stab was so swift it left only a streak of silver light.
Varzak snarled, spinning his blades to block.. but the sheer force rattled his arm, making his grip tremble.
"Hmph… still haven't lost your edge," he hissed.
Yofilis didn't answer. With a twist of his wrist, he guided his blade around the edge of Varzak's weapon, slicing across his leather armor.
A gleaming spray of red pixels burst out.
Varzak froze for a heartbeat... then broke into a feral grin. "Ha! Now that's more like it, my lord viscount!"
He roared again, body lunging forward like a beast, twin blades swirling into a cyclone meant to tear his foe apart.
Yofilis met him with steady eyes, the calm of a storm contained, his slender sword now moving like a shower of falling stars: thin, sharp, and relentless.