The journey back to Eterna should have been triumphant.
The children were safe, their futures secured with elemental spirits bound to them. Atem wanted nothing more than to return home and let his people rejoice.
But the closer he came, the heavier his heart grew.
Smoke curled in the sky like black claws, and the wind carried with it the metallic tang of blood.
"…No…" Atem's voice was low, strained. "Don't tell me…"
The children clutched tightly to his cloak, their laughter gone, replaced by trembling silence. They could feel it too—something was horribly, irreversibly wrong.
When the gates of Eterna came into view, Atem's chest seized.
The great barrier that protected the city was shattered, its magical glyphs still sparking with broken energy. The grand entrance, once a symbol of unity and power, was reduced to smoldering rubble.
He stepped inside.
But instead of the cheerful greetings, the merchants' cries, and the bustling harmony of humans, spirits, and monsters working together—there was nothing. Only the crackle of fire and the shriek of carrion birds.
Buildings burned, their wooden beams collapsing in sparks. Shops were smashed open, stalls overturned.
And then… he saw them.
Bodies.
His people—warriors, mages, merchants, children—strewn across the streets like discarded pieces of a duel gone horribly wrong. Some had been cut down mid-flight, others crushed where they stood. Blood pooled across the stone like crimson paint.
Atem's hands trembled as he stumbled forward. His throat was tight, the weight of failure crushing him.
"Why… why has this happened?"
He recognized the faces. Smiles he had returned each morning. Voices he had encouraged in the square. People who had called him Pharaoh, leader, and friend. Now—lifeless.
Behind him, little Alice buried her face against Chloe, sobbing. The boys' eyes were wide and hollow, unable to understand how peace could be torn apart so brutally.
Shion
Atem's steps carried him toward the central square, desperate for some glimmer of life. His spiritual senses expanded, searching, but what he felt only deepened his dread.
And there, among the fallen—
He saw her.
Shion.
Her lavender hair was matted with blood, her body collapsed in the square, still gripping a broken blade in her hand. Even in death, her expression was fierce, protective—she had fought until her very last breath.
"No…" Atem dropped to his knees beside her. His hands hovered, unwilling to touch her, as though contact would make the nightmare solid and irreversible. "Shion… no, please… not you."
The world blurred. His heart felt as if it had been torn from his chest.
"I swore… I swore I would protect everyone…"
Geld staggered into the square, his massive frame bloodied and broken, eyes filled with sorrow. Other survivors followed, battered, carrying wounds inside and out.
They told him what had happened.
The Kingdom of Falmouth, allied with the Western Holy Church, had declared war. They branded Eterna a "nest of monsters unfit to exist" and struck while Atem was away. Their army flooded in with steel and fire.
Eterna had resisted. They had pushed back. But the price had been unbearable.
Atem heard their words, but they were muffled, as though submerged underwater. His mind focused only on Shion's lifeless face.
<
Atem clenched his fists, his body trembling with fury. "This world… no matter how much I strive for peace, it answers with blood. No matter what I build, it is torn down. If this is the law of the world—then I will rewrite the law itself."
The survivors gathered, their eyes empty, searching for salvation in him. Atem stayed frozen in the ruins, the smoke curling around him like shadows of failure.
Then—footsteps.
From the haze emerged three familiar figures: Kaval, Gido, and Eren. Their armor was cracked, their cloaks torn, but their eyes were alive.
"…Atem?" Eren's voice wavered, but carried warmth.
Atem looked up, stunned. "…You three."
Eren's eyes welled as she took in the sight of the dead. She knelt before Atem, her voice soft but trembling. "We came as fast as we could… but we were too late."
She lowered her gaze, then raised it again, filled with memory and conviction.
"Atem… do you know the story of a girl who once became a Demon Lord?"
Atem blinked, his body heavy. "…No."
Eren clasped her hands together, her voice barely above a whisper.
"She was gentle, kind… she loved a pet dragon with all her heart. But one day, that dragon was killed before her eyes. Her grief broke her. She unleashed her rage on everything—foe, friend, innocent—it didn't matter. She destroyed an entire city. And when it was over… she had become a Demon Lord."
Kaval and Gido bowed their heads, silent witnesses to the weight of the tale.
Atem's breath caught. "…And?"
Eren's eyes glistened. "When she awakened, she gained a terrifying power. With it, she resurrected the dragon she loved. Even though everyone said it was impossible… she brought it back."
Atem's gaze returned to Shion. His heartbeat thundered.
"Resurrection…" His voice was hoarse. "If I become a Demon Lord… I might be able to bring her back. All of them."
Eren nodded gently. "It's not certain… it's more legend than truth. But if anyone could, Atem—it would be you."
Hope stirred in his chest. Fragile. Flickering. But alive.
He placed a hand over Shion's, tears welling in his eyes.
(If there is even the smallest chance… I will seize it. I will not lose her. I will not lose any of them.)
Slowly, Atem rose to his feet. His cloak hung heavy, his eyes burning with determination.
The survivors, broken and desperate, turned to him. Waiting. Hoping.
"I understand now," Atem said, his voice deep and steady, like the judgment of a Pharaoh. "If I am to protect those dear to me… if I am to bring back Shion and all who have fallen… there is only one path left to me."
He spread his arms wide, his spirit flaring with divine authority.
"I will ascend. I will become a Demon Lord."
The words rippled across the square like a spell, striking fear and hope alike into every heart.
In that moment, Atem's destiny shifted.
No longer just Pharaoh. No longer only a duelist or protector.
But a being who would overturn the laws of the world itself—
for the sake of the ones he loved.
Atem's voice trembled at first, then hardened into a tone that brooked no argument, no hesitation:
"Gather everyone. No one is left behind. I will bring them back. I swear it."
Benimaru bowed deeply, his crimson hair casting a shadow over his eyes.
"As you command, Atem-sama."
Hakuro, whose aged face carried the marks of countless battles, looked shattered in a way Atem had never witnessed before. He gave no words, only a solemn nod that spoke of loyalty beyond life and death.
Souei melted into the shadows immediately, weaving his network of stealthy clones, each tracking down the fallen, unseen but ever-present. Even Geld, the massive orc whose hands were still slick with the blood of those he had fought to protect, bent low to lift bodies with astonishing care, as if holding something far more delicate than glass.
One by one, the citizens were brought to the central plaza of Eterna. Dozens, then hundreds—friends, warriors, children—laid side by side. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the muffled sobs of the survivors.
At the very center, Shion's body rested in Atem's arms. Her lavender hair cascaded across his cloak, her face calm, as if sleeping. Atem's hand hovered over her, trembling with a mixture of grief and restraint. His eyes, normally sharp and commanding, glistened with unspilled tears.
With a deliberate breath, he lowered her among the others. The weight of the act pressed against his chest like a mountain.
Atem closed his eyes. His voice, low and commanding, resonated across the plaza:
"Oracle, erect a stronger barrier to prevent the souls from escaping."
<
The earth trembled as a vast dome of pale, shimmering light rose over the fallen. It pulsed softly, a faint hum vibrating in the air like a heartbeat. Survivors and warriors nearby gasped at the overwhelming aura, feeling the faint brush of divine power.
<
Atem exhaled quietly. Relief washed over him, though grief still weighed heavily on his shoulders.
"Thank you," he whispered, his voice carrying both sorrow and resolve.
He turned to his subordinates, all standing in tense silence. Their faces reflected a storm of grief, rage, and steadfast resolve.
"I will not let them be lost. Not Shion. Not a single one," Atem said, voice deep and unwavering. "If it is true that ascending as a Demon Lord grants the power to restore them… then that is the path I will walk."
A ripple ran through the gathered group. Shock gave way to fierce determination.
Souei knelt first, eyes locked on Atem.
"Then we will forge the path for you, Atem-sama."
Benimaru's fists clenched, fire igniting in his eyes.
"Tell us who to strike, and we will reduce them to ashes."
Hakuro placed a hand over his heart, his aged blade glinting in the faint light.
"My sword is yours, even if it must taste the blood of thousands."
Geld's voice rumbled like distant thunder, deep and unwavering.
"We orcs understand the weight of sin. If this is the path you choose, we shoulder it with you, Master."
Atem's chest tightened, emotion and duty intertwined. His gaze swept over Shion, then across the countless stolen lives of his people.
There could be no forgiveness. Not anymore.
"Prepare yourselves," he said, his voice sharp as a Pharaoh's decree. "We march against the Falmuth army. None shall survive. Their souls will fuel my ascension. Their destruction will awaken me as a True Demon Lord. Eterna will be restored, and I will bear the weight of every life lost."
The plaza fell into silence once more, but this silence was different—charged, electrified, a battlefield of resolve and destiny waiting to erupt. Atem's eyes burned with divine conviction. The path was set. The hour of reckoning had come.