The battlefield was silent.
Not the quiet of peace, but the hollow stillness after a storm — the kind that makes the hairs on your arms stand on end.
Dust and magic residue hung in the air, shimmering under a bruised red sky. The surviving Demon Lords and their allies gathered among the wreckage, some victorious, others nursing wounds, their expressions a mix of relief and disbelief.
Guy Crimson stood with his coat fluttering, brushing dirt off his shoulder like swatting away an annoying bug.
Diablo adjusted his tie with his usual smugness, while Testarossa, Ultima, and Carrera were chatting — no, gloating — over their flawless victories.
But Milim was slumped against a broken stone pillar, breathing heavily.
Leon wiped blood from his lip, his pristine armor now scratched and cracked.
Draguel's shoulders rose and fell with ragged breaths, his massive frame slightly hunched.
Velgrynd's flames sputtered weakly around her as she stood, her pride as battered as her body.
Dino… well, Dino was lying on the ground, groaning, mumbling something about "hating hard work."
Carrion had an arm draped over his knee, looking frustrated but still alive.
Frey was standing beside him, silent, wings folding inward.
Luminous… wasn't smiling. And that was worrying. She stood still, eyes distant — she had lost.
The air suddenly thickened.
A strange pressure swept over the ruins, heavier than any magic anyone had felt before. Even the strongest among them felt their skin crawl and their breathing slow.
Then… the space in front of them cracked.
Like a mirror splitting apart, reality itself fractured — and from the widening fissure stepped Saphielle's true form.
She was no longer the mysterious, alluring figure they had seen before.
Her true self towered over them, at least three times taller than a human, her skin glistening like obsidian glass with veins of pulsating silver light running across her body.
Her eyes were pure white, yet burned with a predatory gleam. Her hair floated in the air, made of strands that looked like liquid starlight, whipping around as if caught in an invisible storm.
Six dark crystalline wings extended from her back, each feather a shard of some impossible mineral that cut through the air with a sharp hum.
And when she spoke, it was as if a hundred voices layered together echoed through the souls of everyone present.
Saphielle: "Some of you… triumphed."
Her gaze swept across Guy, Diablo, and the others who stood tall.
Saphielle: "Some of you… failed."
Her eyes lingered on Carrion, Frey, and Luminous, and even without words, her meaning was clear — you are weak.
Then, her voice deepened, laced with something ancient and cruel.
Saphielle: "Because of that… I will destroy this pathetic world. I will erase the Cardinal World from existence."
Before anyone could react, her wings unfolded in full. The crystalline feathers blazed with impossible light, and then — BOOM — an ocean of pure annihilation poured out from her body.
It wasn't just magic.
It wasn't just energy.
It was dominion.
The kind of overwhelming power that didn't just crush bodies — it crushed wills.
Every Demon Lord froze in place.
Their magic wouldn't activate.
Their limbs wouldn't respond.
Even breathing became a monumental effort.
Guy's smirk vanished.
Milim's usual wild energy dimmed into wide-eyed shock.
Velgrynd's flames flickered out entirely.
It was as if their very existence had been locked in chains.
They tried everything — pouring mana into barriers, channeling auras, even attempting teleportation — but nothing worked.
Nothing… except for one person.
In the midst of this suffocating wave of despair… Veldora moved.
The Storm King casually dusted his cloak, cracked his neck, and stepped forward. His golden eyes locked onto Saphielle, and in that moment, he looked nothing like the goofy, careless dragon they knew.
He radiated something else — wisdom, composure, and a terrifying quiet confidence.
Saphielle blinked, genuinely caught off guard.
Saphielle: "…How… are you not affected?!"
Veldora smiled. Not a cocky smile — but the smile of someone who already knew the outcome of this encounter.
Veldora: "How? Simple. Your power is impressive, Saphielle… but it is incomplete. And I… am not like the others."
(Saiki, invisible beside him, smirked to himself. He was subtly amplifying Veldora's aura, his voice, his very presence — making him seem like the embodiment of unstoppable authority.)
Veldora took another step forward, each movement deliberate, his cape flowing behind him like a banner of judgment.
Veldora: "Your games… have gone on long enough. As the Guardian of this world… I cannot allow your chaos to continue."
The others watched in awe. This was a Veldora they had never seen before — sharp-eyed, commanding, and exuding the same majestic gravitas as a wise and ancient king.
Veldora: "You have threatened the balance of this realm for the last time. And now…"
His aura flared — not wild, but controlled, the sky itself swirling above him. Clouds twisted into a massive vortex, lightning flashing inside. The air trembled as a deep rumble shook the ground.
Veldora: "…you will return to whatever hole you crawled from."
He raised his hand, palm glowing with condensed storms, an orb of pure tempest energy forming in his grasp. The power inside it was so intense, the very air screamed around it.
Saphielle's eyes widened — for the first time… she looked afraid.
Saphielle: "No… this can't—"
Veldora: "Begone!"
And then… he unleashed it.
A roaring cyclone of divine wind and thunder engulfed her, shredding her crystalline wings, cracking her obsidian-like skin. The vortex twisted tighter and tighter until her form shattered into fragments of light, pulled screaming into the void from which she came.
The shockwave blasted outward, tearing through the ruined battlefield but leaving the gathered warriors untouched.
Silence.
Veldora slowly lowered his hand, his golden eyes scanning the horizon as the storm above dissipated.
The others stared in stunned disbelief.
Guy chuckled under his breath.
Milim's jaw was hanging open.
Even Diablo had to blink twice.
And still, Veldora stood there, every inch the wise, charismatic king.
The air around him shimmered faintly, not with raw magic, but with something deeper—something that carried weight in every heart present. His golden eyes swept over the battlefield, meeting the gazes of warriors battered, bloodied, and yet unbroken. The remnants of Saphielle's overwhelming aura still lingered in the air like the echo of a nightmare, but now it was drowned beneath the sheer presence of the Storm King.
The silence was absolute. Every breath, every heartbeat, every trembling hand waited for him to speak.
Then Veldora's voice came—calm, resonant, carrying the warmth of a fire on a winter night and the steel of a blade in war.
Veldora:
"You have all fought… and you have bled. Some of you have triumphed. Some of you have fallen. But all of you… stand here today as more than warriors. You are the shield that held when the storm sought to break this world."
His gaze turned briefly to those who had lost, and instead of reproach, there was only respect.
"Do not let defeat weigh upon you as shame. A loss in battle does not define you. What defines you… is that you stood when it mattered most. You faced power meant to shatter mountains, to erase nations… and yet you did not flee."
The wind stirred, carrying the scent of scorched earth and ozone. The faint crackle of static danced around him, as if the air itself leaned in to listen.
"Today you have seen that the enemy we face is not bound by the laws we know. Power beyond reason. Force beyond fear. And yet…" — he raised his head, his voice growing stronger — "Fear is not what will decide this war. Faith will. Faith in your allies. Faith in yourselves. Faith that this world is worth protecting."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. Even those who had been frozen in Saphielle's grip moments ago now felt warmth returning to their limbs.
Veldora took a step forward, his shadow stretching across the ruined ground like a banner.
"Listen to me well—there will be darker days ahead. There will be enemies who will try to make you doubt, to break you, to tell you that you are too small to stand against them. But remember this…"
He clenched his fist, and a faint rumble of thunder rolled in the distance.
"No mountain is too high for the will to climb. No storm is too great for the heart that refuses to yield. And no enemy…" — his voice sharpened, his gaze sweeping the field — "No enemy can truly win as long as we refuse to kneel."
The warriors shifted, shoulders squaring, eyes sharpening.
"You have all proven something today. Not just to the world. Not just to me. But to yourselves. That you are more than soldiers. You are the guardians of this land. Every heartbeat you protect, every child who sleeps in peace, every dawn that rises without fear—that is because of you."
Veldora's expression softened, just for a moment.
"I will not promise that the road ahead will be easy. But I will promise this… As long as I draw breath, as long as my storms rage, I will stand with you. And together…"
He raised his arm to the sky, lightning cracking in response.
"Together, we will ensure this world will never fall!"
The warriors roared—not just in approval, but in defiance of everything they had faced. Their voices rolled across the battlefield like a second storm, one born not of destruction, but of life, of unity, of hope.
And in that moment, every heart present believed without question… that the Storm King was not just their ally. He was their leader.