The air in the Gece Çivisi Guild was strange. Despite the open sky, darkness hung heavy, oppressive, as if the very heart of the world beat slower and time itself had forgotten to breathe.
Darel moved silently toward the Temple Plain, followed by Captain Vellan, Elian, Elya, and Liven. Each of them felt it—something was about to change. Darel was silent, his eyes not on the sky but on the depths within himself.
At the center of the temple, a sword lay embedded in an old, rusted stone.
Zereth.
No one dared touch it, for it was said that only the chosen of the gods could wield it. Legends told that the one who drew it would be stripped of all human emotion and transformed into a true captain.
Without a word, Darel stood before the sword. He took a deep breath. And drew it.
Zereth leapt from the stone as if it had been waiting for him. Thunder roared. The ground shook. The temple walls cracked. Cold swept through the air. Time itself seemed to stop for a heartbeat.
Liven's chest tightened. The demon inside screamed in his mind:
> "I… I can feel it! The breath of the gods… and that cursed steel. Liven, this… this is not a sword. This is the END."
When Darel opened his eyes, he was no longer Darel. There was nothing human left in them—no anger, no love—only an absolute silence, awaiting command.
Zereth glowed with black light in his left hand. Shadows trembled around it; stones shifted without reason.
Elya parted her lips, but no sound came. Elian took a step back. Captain Vellan sank to his knees.
> "The Captain of the Gods… has awakened."
Darel lifted his head, his gaze piercing through everyone, recognizing no one. He looked at Liven. The demon inside howled.
> "Run, child! Zereth could swallow a mountain! It will consume your soul! IT does not recognize you!"
Liven stepped forward.
> "Darel… Sensei… It's me! Liven! Remember me!"
But the man before him did not see him—he was merely weighing his presence.
Darel raised his arm. Zereth shot toward the sky.
> "Come closer."
There was no voice, but everyone heard it in their minds. All mana, all energy, halted. Even the wind sought escape.
Liven stumbled back. The demon manipulated time, hurling him backward. Time froze. Then Darel swung the sword.
Zereth cut through everything. Stone, earth, air… even light itself was devoured by an unseen void. Only silence remained.
If Liven hadn't thrown himself aside, he would have vanished. A building collapsed behind him; no stone or shadow remained.
Elya whispered:
> "This… this is no longer our teacher."
Elian bowed his head.
> "This is the will of a god walking among us."
Vellan rose.
> "Zereth… has been drawn again after a thousand years. And we will pay the price."
Liven narrowed his eyes, fists clenched.
> "No… I will not let this be the end. Neither gods nor demons will rule us…"
The demon whispered:
> "But what can you do, Liven, in this war without a god or a demon?"
Liven gave no answer. But in his eyes, a decision had formed.
---
Zereth's strike tore the sky, and time seemed to stop. Liven tried to flee… but he could not. Wind ceased. Sound vanished. Breath itself seemed stolen.
And then… the forest behind Darel vanished. Not just the trees, but memories themselves, erased. Nothingness spread in the wake of Zereth.
Liven closed his eyes.
> "This… is death."
But death did not come.
A light—indescribable, warm, sacred—pierced the void, shielding them. It was Elya.
Her arms stretched wide, eyes glowing golden. Symbols of divine power shimmered in her palms. Her small body trembled, but she did not step back.
> "Stop," Elya said. And with that word, the world began to turn again.
Zereth's destructive power halted. Liven opened his eyes and gazed at Elya.
> "Elya… you…"
She turned to him without lowering her head.
> "I don't know… but someone inside me told me to stop. And I did."
From afar, Seria shouted:
> "This… this is the will of a god!"
Captain Vellan shivered, his sword slipping from his hand. For the first time, a crack appeared in Darel's emotionless eyes—a tremor in the void.
Liven stepped forward.
> "Darel… are you still there?"
No answer came. But a hum rose.
From the shadows behind Liven, the demon emerged—horned, blood-eyed. Behind Darel, a faceless god burned in golden-white light. Two chasms faced each other at once.
The demon whispered in Liven's ear:
> "He is still mine. The boy still belongs to me. You cannot silence me…"
The divine figure did not answer. Yet, a silhouette appeared.
In front of Darel stood a woman. Her face familiar, marked by the years. A scar lingered on her left cheek. Her eyes were aged, but they glimmered with light.
Darel hesitated. Zereth wavered. He looked at the woman… and tears filled his eyes.
The woman recognized him as well. Once, she had saved him. She had never spoken, yet her eyes had told everything.
> "You… you're Darel, aren't you?"
Time fractured again. Liven held his breath. The demon withdrew. The godly figure trembled.
This woman had brought forth something stronger than the light of a god: memory.
---