Aeren stared at the chains binding him. They wrapped tightly around his limbs, neck, and torso—heavy, crushing, attempting to force him to his knees. The pressure was immense, enough to break a normal body instantly.
But Aeren refused to fall.
He planted his feet firmly, muscles tensing as he fought to remain standing. Even chained, even restricted, he would not allow himself to be dragged to the ground like prey.
Unable to move, he could only watch—Jarek staring back at him with tense determination, and the Duke smiling faintly as if victory lingered in his hands.
Then Olivia dropped lightly from above, landing on the floor. She walked toward Aeren with eager steps, a twisted anticipation in her eyes. Aeren could not turn to fully see her, nor could he spot the caster who shackled him—but he intended to, once he broke free.
Before he could plan his escape, a desperate voice shouted from behind him:
"Kill him, Jarek! We don't have time—I can't hold this chain anymore!"
It was Nil's voice, strained and trembling, her eyes fixed on Jarek with urgent hope.
Olivia froze mid-step, shock ripping through her expression. She had approached Aeren expecting to claim her "reward"—his blood. But now she realized something horrifying:
Aeren was already breaking the chains.
Cracks formed along the bindings of merged darkness and light. The ground trembled beneath his feet.
Fear swallowed Olivia whole.
Meanwhile, Jarek lunged toward Aeren with full force—and the Duke charged beside him, gripping an axe the size of a man.
Both aimed to kill before the chains shattered completely.
Jarek closed the distance to Aeren, his sword slicing through the air—just inches away.
But before the blade could reach him, Aeren snapped the chains apart.
The restraints of light, darkness, and space shattered around him, cracking the ground and ripping open the air itself. A violent surge of spirit energy erupted from the rupture, spilling into the hall. Dozens of spirits—light, dark, elemental, celestial—manifested around Aeren, reacting instinctively to the impossible distortion he had created.
Sensing danger, every spirit lunged at Aeren at once.
Aeren saw both attacks at the same time—the divine sword aiming for him, and the swarm of spirits converging. But before even a single blow could land, Aeren moved.
He vanished.
His sprint obliterated every spirit instantly—they evaporated the moment he passed through their forms, sucked backward as the space gate snapped shut behind him.
Now he was in front of Jarek.
Aeren's fist was already drawn back, aimed directly at Jarek's heart. Jarek's sword had missed. His chance to kill Aeren was gone.
Aeren is about to end him.
But before the punch reached its target—the Duke threw himself in the way.
Aeren's fist connected with the Duke's skull. The impact was instant, devastating.
The Duke's head exploded, fragments of bone, blood, and brain scattering across the floor. His body dropped lifelessly, headless, without even a whisper of final words. He was erased in a single strike.
"What a pathetic human," Aeren whispered, staring at the headless corpse on the floor.
That brief moment of distraction was all Jarek needed.
"Bastard—DIE!"
Jarek shouted through tears, swinging the divine sword with everything he had. The blade blazed with burning divinity, hotter and fiercer than before, as it cut through the air toward Aeren.
Aeren snapped back to awareness at the last second. The sword was already too close. He twisted his body, narrowly saving his neck—but forced the blade into his already-injured left arm instead.
There was a brief instant—a single heartbeat—where Aeren saw an opening.
Jarek's abdomen was exposed.
Swish… BAM!
The sword cut through Aeren's left arm, severing it cleanly.
At the same moment, Aeren's fist slammed into Jarek's abdomen with terrifying force.
Jarek dropped to his knees, coughing blood, vision blurring.
Aeren stood above him, left arm gone, blood pouring from his shoulder—but still focused, still unbroken.
"Dark—now! OPEN THE GATE!" Nil screamed.
A portal of pure darkness ripped open behind Jarek. Two shadowy hands shot out, grabbing him by the shoulders, trying to drag him inside.
Aeren moved instantly.
He drove his remaining hand forward and punched the gate itself.
The dark portal shattered like brittle glass.
Nil shrieked as the collapsing gate tore through her magic—both of her arms severed instantly as the spatial edges snapped shut, leaving her hands trapped inside the destroyed portal.
Blood sprayed. The battlefield fell silent for a heartbeat.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Nil's scream pierced the air behind Aeren, but Aeren did not turn. His remaining eye stayed locked on Jarek—and on the divine sword in Jarek's trembling grip.
Even one-handed, even with blood pouring freely from the ragged stump of his left arm, Aeren stood tall. Unmoving. Unbothered. He didn't even attempt to suppress the bleeding. Crimson dripped in steady, beautiful streams down his torso, forming a small pool beneath him.
Behind him, Olivia knelt beside Nil, trembling. She saw the battlefield—saw the corpses, the shattered magic, the ruined floor—and she knew there was no escape from Aeren.
None.
Yet even now… her eyes never left his wound.
The blood pouring from Aeren glowed like heaven-forged liquid, bright red and impossibly radiant. It looked divine. Sacred. Precious. It was the sight she had dreamed of seeing for so long—and reality surpassed every fantasy she had ever imagined.
Her heartbeat skipped, thudding in wild patterns.
"A-Are you alright, Nil?" Olivia asked, her voice soft—but her gaze was glued to Aeren's blood.
Nil noticed instantly. She could hear Olivia's heartbeat. She could feel her excitement.
Nil turned toward her, stunned by the girl's courage.
Despite the terror.
Despite every instinct screaming to run.
Despite the fact they never forced her into this danger…
Olivia stayed.
Nil felt shame burn in her chest. She lowered her head and tried to heal her severed arms—but no spell formed. No light appeared. Her mana had been drained completely. Her spirits—Light and Dark—were flickering on the brink of death.
If she called on them again… they would vanish forever. Nil's breath shook, utterly helpless.
"I'm sorry, Olivia… I disappointed you," Nil whispered.
She continued trying to heal what remained of her arms, slow and shaky, her magic flickering weakly. Even as she worked, her gaze drifted back toward Aeren. And in that moment, she couldn't believe the truth:
She was trying to kill the person she once wished would live forever.
In her past life, she had watched helplessly as Aeren destroyed everything through the heart she had given him—worlds, people, billions of lives. She had seen corpses piled like mountains, the sky shattering, and herself powerless to stop him. That memory had carved itself into her very soul.
And that was why she had planned all of this from the moment her past memories awakened.
That's why she manipulated events from the beginning.
That's Why Aeren is weak now——because if he had true potential, this world would already be dust.
I knew Aeren… too well, Nil thought as her trembling eyes locked onto him. Even beyond this existence, nothing could stop him. And somehow… after everything, he was growing stronger, climbing impossible heights. That's what terrified me most. The only solution is to kill him—otherwise nothing will remain.
Olivia placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"No… you did your best," she said firmly. "And we injured him. Now we can move forward with our plan."
Her eyes never left Aeren either.
And despite the horror around them, Olivia smiled—as if everything was falling perfectly into place.