The bell chokes on its final beat, and an even heavier silence falls upon the city.
A thousand monsters approach: goblins, orcs, wolves, skeletons… But all the adventurers gather at the guild to form a plan.
The hall is packed with a hundred adventurers. The Black Wolf team is also present, though one member is missing.
A voice rises:
"As you all know, I am the guild master. We must act quickly, even if we have no chance. Ranks E and F will help evacuate the people toward the city center."
One adventurer bursts out angrily:
"You want to condemn them!"
The guild master slams back:
"The monsters come from every side—this is our only option! Now shut it!" He takes a deep breath, forcing himself calm.
"Our chances are thin, but it must be done for the sake of the inhabitants," he adds with the little hope that remains in him.
"Amane isn't here… maybe you were right, Erynd," murmurs Amelie to her group.
"Yes… there's no longer any doubt," he replies darkly.
---
Back on the rooftops, a figure stands: a long black dress, a wide hood hiding the face, only the pale gleam of a mask visible in the shadow.
"It's time for a shattering entry!" thought Amane, leaping from an extravagant height and landing in the city center, the impact cracking the stone beneath her.
In front of the stunned crowd, she slowly raises a gloved hand. An icy breath sweeps across the place. The air grows heavy. One by one, torches are snuffed out, as though crushed by an invisible hand.
Then, suddenly, a black and purple aura bursts forth. It spreads in waves, forcing people to their knees, strangling their breath as if unseen fingers coiled around their throats. The very stones seem to groan under the weight of this force.
From the cracked ground, solidified shadows erupt. They writhe, shatter, and reform to create a colossal throne—obsidian shot through with glowing veins of flame, like molten blood. Its armrests twist into claws, and its back rises high, like a pair of wings unfurled behind it.
Amane ascends the throne's steps with assured, deliberate steps. Her aura roars, crushing all resistance. The heartbeat of the crowd seems to sync with the oppressive rhythm of her presence. When she sits, it is as though the entire city bows.
Upon the throne, her silhouette no longer resembles a human. She is the image of a sovereign of darkness—a masked king who does not need words for everyone to understand:
This night belongs to terror alone.
She sits with nonchalant grace: one elbow resting lazily on the massive armrest, her chin tilted slightly into her hand, her posture both casual and terrifying. One leg crossed over the other, as though this throne were hers by right—a gesture of absolute disdain for all convention.
Giant screens shimmer into existence across the city, broadcasting her image as she sits in dominion, voice carried everywhere by a hidden microphone.
> [Title – Activated]
"Acquired provisional title: Demon God."
Her altered voice booms, deep and otherworldly:
"Dear inhabitants of Tarnis, I present myself as the Demon God. But you may call me Death. Tonight, your walls, your homes, your lives… everything you believed safe now belongs to me. The bell did not warn you—it celebrated my arrival. From this night onward, you live and die under my shadow. This city… is mine."
Her words ripple across the city, freezing hearts. The aura still presses down; no one dares to breathe too loud. The crowd collapses, kneeling. Yet voices of despair break through:
> "What's happening?!?"
"I… I can't get up!"
"My husband—I'm so scared!"
"The rumors were true, it really exists!"
"It's Death—we're all going to die!"
A chorus of panic and anguish spreads across every street and corner.
"Perfect. Everyone looks terrified—it will do the trick. Now, let's move on," Amane whispers, calm and utterly unfazed by the fear she's sown.
> [Oppression of the Soul – Deactivated] (Domain of Soul ability)
"Only six individuals freed themselves from your grip," Aria's voice informs her.
The Black Wolf group struggles but slowly manages to rise, the only ones who can.
> "But… how?"
"We can move!"
"Why are you the only ones?" the guild master growls, barely managing to lift his head.
Erynd answers with quiet determination:
"I think I know why. Sorry… but we have to settle this."
The guild master nods, entrusting them with all remaining hope:
"Then hurry."
The Black Wolf team dashes toward the city center, Seris chanting reinforcement spells to hasten their pace.
From atop her throne, Amane watches them approach.
"Finally. Took you long enough," she thinks, already bored.
Even from afar, the adventurers feel it—the suffocating weight of darkness surrounding the throne.
"Well then, dear adventurers… let's see if you're worthy enough to defeat me."
"Amane—is it really you? Why are you doing this?" shouts Erynd, cutting her short.
"You've been using a skill to manipulate people's feelings for days," Fenric accuses coldly. "And the empty dungeon… your arrival ties to it all."
Seris nods:
"All these events lead back to you, Amane Seiren."
A soft laugh drifts from Amane. It isn't a monstrous roar but something subtler—malicious, sly, a devilish chuckle that suggests hidden delight in their misery.
It isn't terror that chills the blood, but cruelty. The sound lingers, like the whisper of a trap.
"Yes, it's me! I will destroy this world, and no one can stop me!"
But Erynd, calm, refuses to accept it.
"You're lying. I know that's not your true intention. We're a group. Tell us what's really in your heart."
Amane's smile flickers. Then she raises her right hand.
"So… let's go somewhere quieter."
> [Zone Teleportation – Activated]
In an instant, they all appear in the forest near the city. The monsters turn their direction elsewhere, leaving Tarnis behind. The group trembles slightly, clutching their weapons, stealing glances at one another for courage.
Amane removes her mask and microphone, setting them gently on the grass. Her golden eyes gleam in the dim light as she speaks:
"There was someone who meant everything to me… but one day, he left. My world collapsed in an instant. It was as if nothing mattered anymore. I tried to live again and again… but in the end, I fell into despair. All of this—all I've done—was to erase that suffering, to make someone disappear forever."
Her words silence the group. Their guard lowers slightly, their anger mixing with pity.
"No one can return your past to you," one of them says softly. "But if you continue like this, you'll bury it even deeper… and yourself with it."
> [Monster Attraction – Disabled]
[Oppression of the Soul – Disabled]
[Falsified Will – Disabled]
[Giant Screens – Disabled]
"You are right… I should never have done all this. Sorry."
Amane's mask trembles as her face seems shattered, her shoulders shaken by sobs, as if she were carrying the weight of the entire world. Her eyes flush red, lips quivering, each breath tearing out like a strangled lament. Then, in a sudden burst, she lets her aura vanish, freeing them all at once.
After a long silence, when her tears finally calm, she speaks softly:
"The inhabitants are no longer under my influence… and the monsters have dispersed. There is nothing more to fear."
> "That's reassuring."
"Now, let's go back… otherwise I'll end up frozen here."
"At last, I can count on this story being over."
Amane, slightly apart from the group, lets a faint smile surface as she stands before them. Yet inside, there is no warmth—only cold calculation.
"They're so easy to fool… Perfect. This will serve the future well." she thinks with chilling calm.
---
In Elaria, within the great church, the priestess kneels in prayer before a towering statue, flanked by two others. After several long minutes, she finishes her incantation and slowly rises.
"Now… sort the files concerning the Empire and bring me a report,"
Ordering Aurélia to others.
The two priestesses bow slightly, then leave in silence. Alone, Aurélia walks toward a secluded chamber, empty of all presence. Her voice then cuts the stillness:
"You can stop hiding. I know I stand no chance against you."
From the shadows at the door, a shape slides forth—Eleanor. She emerges slowly, her stance grave and unwavering.
"What do you want? I have no intention of obeying you," Eleanor declares coldly.
A faint sneer curls Aurélia's lips. "I simply wished to warn you… your new friend is likely to die tonight. Of course, your presence won't change her fate."
Eleanor's gaze hardens. "What are you talking about?"
Aurélia answers with unsettling satisfaction:
"She is about to receive… a most interesting visit. I don't know how she managed to uncover the reception of the heroes, but one thing is certain—she will not show herself there."
Eleanor, unshaken, turns away. "If you're done, I'll take my leave."
Her body dissolves into shadow, fading little by little. Aurélia's final words echo before she vanishes completely:
"I only hope you arrive in time… unlike your grandfather."
High above the world, a woman floats amidst the churning black clouds. The storm rages beneath her, but her figure radiates an otherworldly brilliance. This light is not pure—it shimmers with silver streaks and ashes of shadow, as though her holiness itself had been stained by darkness.