With the annihilation of the Chaos vanguard, the battle finally came to an end.
For the Allied Army, it was their first major victory in a long time—and not merely a victory, but a triumph that would be remembered for ages. The sight of all four Chaos Champions being slain by Duanmu Huai's hands left even the most hardened soldiers in stunned awe. Yet despite the cheering and the relief, none among the commanders dared to relax.
They knew this was only the beginning. The forces they had just defeated were but the vanguard. The Everchosen—the eternal champion blessed by all four Chaos Gods—had not yet appeared.
Still, when talk spread around the campfire that night about who might be able to face that being when the time came, there was no debate. Every soldier, every knight, every priest had the same answer: Duanmu Huai.
Inside a dimly lit tent, Duanmu sat silently, eyes closed, his massive frame outlined by the flickering firelight.
He had slain four Chaos Champions in succession, yet the experience gained was barely enough to move his level bar. In truth, he mused, the Chaos Gods' presence in this world was only a game—a diversion. To the mortals of this planet, the dark gods were unfathomable and terrifying. But to Duanmu, who had seen the wider cosmos, they were only petty tyrants playing with their toys.
If the true legions of Chaos—the Chaos Space Marines—ever descended upon this planet, it would not be an army the Empire faced, but a storm of annihilation. In mere days, the planet itself would be erased.
He had seen such worlds in his game life—planets burned to cinders beneath the guns of the traitor legions, oceans boiled away, skies filled with plague and fire. Compared to that, this battlefield was almost… quaint.
"Idiots," he muttered softly.
To the people of this world, their planet was the entire universe. They could not imagine that beyond the stars existed countless worlds, civilizations greater and more terrible than their own.
And the Chaos Gods—boasting infinite power—were in truth only kings of a small, cursed corner of one galaxy. They had no concept of the vastness beyond…
That was when the hairs on the back of Duanmu's neck rose.
Something—someone—was watching him.
It was as if a vast and ancient gaze had turned from the black depths of the cosmos directly upon him, probing his thoughts. Cold sweat formed on his brow.
Immediately, he forced his mind blank—ceasing all thought.
After a long, tense moment, the feeling vanished, as though it had never been there at all.
"...Damn. That was close," he breathed, exhaling.
"I really shouldn't think about that kind of thing. Those things make Chaos Gods look like toddlers."
He shook his head quickly, forcing the thought away.
Think of something else. Anything else.
As he was trying to steady himself, a figure appeared at the entrance of the tent—a woman, beautiful and radiant even in the gloom. Her long golden hair shimmered faintly, her pointed ears gleamed beneath the torchlight.
"Lady Elissara."
Duanmu looked up at her. The elf smiled faintly.
"Good evening, my lord knight."
"It's late," Duanmu said flatly. "What brings you here? We were about to rest."
He glanced aside at Olgis, who sat curled up near the fire, reading quietly by lamplight. She looked almost… human now, wrapped in her robe, her expression faintly annoyed by the chill.
"I wished to tell you something personally," Elissara said. Her cheeks were faintly flushed.
"If you don't mind… would you take a walk with me?"
Duanmu hesitated for only a moment, then nodded.
"Of course."
He gestured for Olgis to stay put, then followed Elissara out into the cold night.
The two walked in silence through the snow until they reached the edge of the dark forest. The moon hung low, pale light gleaming across the frost-covered trees. Somewhere in the distance, wolves howled—but neither of them paid it any mind.
Finally, Elissara spoke.
"Your bravery today was… beyond imagination. I believe songs will soon be written about you—songs of praise and awe. Even among the long history of the elves, there has never been one like you. You crushed the Chaos vanguard, slew the champions of the dark gods with your own hands… I must confess, even I, who expected greatness from you, did not foresee that."
She stopped and turned to face him, her emerald eyes shining.
"So tell me, my lord knight—what is it you truly fight for?"
"To protect humanity," Duanmu replied without hesitation. His voice was calm, but firm as steel.
"That is the duty of the Inquisition—to guard mankind, and to annihilate anything that threatens it."
"...Even if the one who threatens humanity is an elf?"
"Even then," Duanmu said. "If elves endanger mankind, they share the same fate—death."
Elissara was silent for a moment, then nodded softly.
"Very well. Then… I have something to tell you. Information—vital information. But I have one condition."
"A condition?"
"Yes, my lord knight."
A faint, mysterious smile curved her lips.
"I want you to interrogate me."
"...Huh?"
For once, Duanmu blinked, completely dumbfounded.
"What did you just say?"
"Interrogate me," Elissara said calmly. "Right now, I hold intelligence that concerns the safety of the entire northern realm. But as an elf, I cannot willingly share it with humans. If you wish to know the truth, you must force it from me—make me yield beneath your will. Only then will I speak."
Duanmu stared at her in silence for a few seconds.
"You think I won't?"
"That depends on you, not me."
"Very well," he said simply.
Without warning, his iron gauntlet shot out, clamping around her slender throat. He lifted her effortlessly into the air and slammed her against the cold stone wall of the forest ravine.
"You're challenging me, Lady Elissara," he said coldly. "But you underestimate the Inquisition. To protect humanity, we will pay any price."
"Ugh… ahh—"
There was no gentleness in his grip. Her body struck the rock hard enough to crack it; pain lanced through her fragile frame. She could feel the air leaving her lungs, the desperate burn of oxygen deprivation creeping through her body.
And yet—
This… this is it!
Elissara trembled violently, overwhelmed not just by fear, but by an intoxicating thrill. The aura of death that clung to Duanmu pressed down upon her very soul. In that suffocating, all-consuming darkness, she felt her deadened spirit stir to life once more.
That sharp, frozen edge between terror and ecstasy—this was the feeling she had been chasing.
Her lips parted, but the iron hand on her throat cut off her breath, strangling her voice. Her delicate legs kicked weakly in the air, body arching as though trying to reach the ground—anything to relieve the unbearable pressure.
I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die!
The terror flooded her mind. Duanmu wasn't bluffing—she could see it in his eyes. He would kill her. If she didn't speak, she would end like the Chaos champions—reduced to ash and nothing more.
"Hel… help—ahh—"
Her words were lost to choking gasps. Her legs stiffened, back arching in agony. Then—everything went white.
THUD.
Duanmu released her.
Elissara crumpled to the ground, gasping for air, trembling uncontrollably—whether from fear or exhilaration, even she couldn't tell.
"Lady Elissara," Duanmu said coldly, towering over her, "my patience is limited."
She coughed for a while, then lifted her head, her voice trembling.
"I was… truly afraid, my lord knight. You meant to kill me, didn't you?"
"I don't joke about such things," Duanmu said. "And judging by your nature, you'll probably die by my hand eventually anyway."
Elissara gave a faint, breathless laugh.
"Perhaps… and when that time comes, I only ask that you let me die quickly."
She drew a deep breath, then looked up at him again, her expression composed but her eyes bright with feverish emotion.
Then, quietly, she spoke the secret she had come to share.
Duanmu listened in silence. His expression did not change. When she finished, he turned without a word and walked away, disappearing into the darkness between the trees.
He's gone.
Elissara knelt in the mud and snow, not caring about the cold or the filth that clung to her. Her eyes remained fixed on the distant shadow that was no longer there, her face flushed, her breath uneven.
To be discarded so easily—to be treated as worthless, as nothing, as a thing to crush or cast aside without hesitation—
That feeling of being despised…
It was glorious.
"Yes… you truly are the one meant for me…"
Hands clasped to her chest, the elf princess whispered her confession into the empty forest, toward the man who had already vanished into the night.
(End of Chapter)