Night fell like a shroud across the world. Kaito and Riven rode silently on Varnax, soaring above forests and mountains, heading toward the final battleground—the Citadel of Dusk, stronghold of the Veilborn and the Veil Lord himself.
Beneath them, war camps began to stir. Resistance forces, awakened by the Titan's fall and the return of the Blade Emperor, were rising once more.
Kaito stared ahead, his thoughts caught between hope and despair.
Elyria. She was alive. But corrupted.
"You okay?" Riven asked, breaking the silence.
"She doesn't remember me," Kaito murmured. "Or worse… she does, and chose this path."
Riven hesitated. "Love isn't a straight road. Sometimes it's a battlefield too."
They landed at a hidden rebel camp, where dozens of fighters saluted as Kaito passed. Some fell to their knees, whispering: "The Emperor returns."
Kaito addressed them. "We fight not just for kingdoms, but for the right to be free. To choose. The Veilborn would take that from us."
He raised Nightcleaver. The blade gleamed with all four Blade Crystals.
"We march at dawn."
Far across the valley, inside the obsidian towers of the Citadel of Dusk, the Veil Lord stood before Elyria. She knelt, eyes glowing faintly with shadow.
"She saw him," the Veil Lord said coldly. "Your heart trembled."
Elyria didn't reply.
"He's not who you remember," he hissed. "He abandoned you. Left you to die. But I… I gave you purpose."
Elyria rose slowly. "I remember both lives. The pain. The love."
The Veil Lord stepped closer. "Then use it. He must fall. Only then can you take your place beside me… as Empress of the New World."
She turned to the window, watching a bolt of lightning strike distant mountains.
"I'll face him," she whispered. "But what I choose after… is mine alone."
The final battle began at dawn.
The armies clashed like titans—blades, magic, beasts, and rage. Kaito fought at the front, Nightcleaver blazing. Riven was a blur beside him, his twin daggers claiming shadows.
The Veilborn poured from the citadel—beings of dark matter, screams, and fire. But they couldn't stop the firestorm that Kaito had become.
And then… she appeared.
Elyria.
Wearing armor of obsidian and violet light, wielding a blade wreathed in duskfire. She stepped into the battlefield, and time itself seemed to hold its breath.
"Kaito," she said.
"Elyria."
They circled.
"Do you still love me?" she asked, blade raised.
"Every moment. Every breath."
She lunged.
Their swords collided. Sparks flew.