Riven glanced back. On the cramped wagon, weapons of every kind were piled so high they nearly spilled out. Blades glimmered faintly beneath the moonlight, spear shafts jutting at odd angles, steel-plated bows, and thin daggers tossed carelessly into the heap. Each piece was of the finest quality he had managed to seize from Jacky's shop.
And not only that.
A medium-sized black safe lay among the weapons. He had dragged it out with his last strength, his back nearly snapping in the process, only to ensure he carried away every coin, jewel, and stash of wealth that once belonged to Jacky.
Riven's face glistened with sweat, but this time a faint smile lingered at his lips. His shoulders heaved, lungs burning, yet beneath the exhaustion was a suffocating satisfaction.
He closed his eyes for a moment, picturing stacks of gold coins piled high, hearing the soft clinking that he imagined could finally lull him to sleep at night.
'With all this… maybe I won't have to pick through broken weapons anymore, or scrape bits of armor off corpses just to survive. I could stop. I could actually stop, live like a normal person, and maybe… maybe...'
His right hand rose to wipe the sweat from his temple. He let his head fall back for a brief moment, letting the night wind and drizzle wash over his weary face.
Of course, he couldn't take everything from that shop. He could only drive a single wagon, and it was already packed so full that every bump made the wheels groan in protest. But what did it matter? He had more than enough.
Riven snapped the reins. The horse trudged forward at a steady pace, the old wooden wheels grinding against the stones of the road, leaving behind the shop that now stood silent, ownerless.
But not long after the wagon began to move, a sound thundered across the distance.
BOOOOM!
A deafening blast, so powerful the very air trembled. The night sky, once cloaked in darkness, was instantly painted with a blazing red glow erupting from the heart of the city. Black smoke surged upward, accompanied by the shatter of glass, the collapse of walls, and faint screams carried on the wind.
Riven's head whipped around instinctively, his body stiffening. His eyes widened at the sky now convulsing, as if lightning, fire, and storm had merged into one.
"What the hell…?" he muttered under his breath, his voice breaking. "Damn it… insane… what in God's name is happening over there?"
His left fist clenched while his right still gripped the reins. Panic slid cold and sharp into his gut. And he knew—if he stayed in this city, sooner or later he'd be dragged into trouble, especially after killing Jacky.
Grinding his teeth, he cursed hard in silence. Then, without another thought, he lashed the horse's back with the reins.
"Move! Hurry! Get us out of here!"
The horse shrieked and broke into a gallop, the wagon wheels screaming under the weight they bore. Riven didn't look back. Whatever chaos consumed the city center, it wasn't his concern.
Now only one thought burned in his mind: leave this city, leave this kingdom. Run as far as possible, abandon the madness behind.
Escape, and begin a new life with his sister, with all the gold that now belonged to him.
.
.
.
A woman wielding a flaming whip lunged forward, her eyes burning with hatred. The whip lashed like a serpent of fire, slicing the air with a vicious hiss.
But Ashtoria merely lifted her hand, seizing the weapon with calm defiance. The fire crawled along the whip, seeking to scorch her flesh—yet the woman's body trembled violently. An eruption of heat roared, and she exploded from within. Shards of flesh and sprays of blood burst outward in a grisly rain.
One of the survivors gave a signal. At once, a dozen enchanted arrows rose, spears and swords aimed together. The air filled with glimmers of lethal light, as though a storm of death itself was about to rain down on Ashtoria. But in a single instant, everything stopped.
The queen's eyes were upon them.
That gaze—dark, frigid—pierced straight into bone.
Their bodies detonated all at once, bursting like grotesque balloons of meat. No scream escaped. No time remained to grasp what had happened. Flesh, blood, and splintered bone sprayed across the battlefield. Intestines spilled, heads spun away, severed limbs spiraled before crashing onto ruins painted red.
"W… What was that…?" stammered one who still clung to life, his voice trembling as if his tongue itself resisted speaking.
"She's not human…"
"She's a demon… the demon of destruction…"
"The reincarnation of calamity!"
The remaining soldiers no longer charged. Some staggered back in horror, some collapsed and dragged themselves away, others flung down their weapons and knelt, begging for mercy with shaking bodies.
But blood would not be denied its toll.
A man shouted, his voice cracking as he tried to mask terror with fury. He swung his blade, unleashing a gale strong enough to cleave the air, hurtling straight for Ashtoria. At the same moment, two more soldiers rushed in—one with a sword, another with a spear. They charged together, screaming in desperation.
"You monster! How can you still be alive after all this?!"
Their weapons cut from two sides, seeking to slice her down at once.
But the black fire cloaking Ashtoria quivered softly—like a breath.
Then it erupted.
The sound was not a mere blast, but the roar of annihilation. The two soldiers were engulfed instantly, their bodies writhing silhouettes swallowed by flames, then collapsing into drifting ash.
The gale-born strike followed, but the vortex of black fire expanded, shielding Ashtoria entirely. The wave of air disintegrated at once, shattering before it could even graze her.
From the shadowed heavens, a flash of blue appeared.
Dyrtose now hovered, cloaked in lightning. His body shimmered with crackling arcs, sparks racing across his skin. His eyes burned like divine embers.
In his grasp, a colossal spear of thunder took shape. He raised it high, then hurled it downward.
The sky split with thunder.
The spear plunged from the heavens, like lightning cast down by the gods themselves.
ZRAAAAKKK!
A blinding light seared across the battlefield, air quaking in its fury. But before it could reach Ashtoria, the thunder-spear shattered, its energy scattering into countless shards of lightning that slashed in every direction.
Yet it had been only a feint.
Behind the first strike, a second spear appeared—faster, sharper.
Ashtoria had no time to evade.
A catastrophic blast erupted.
BOOOOM!
Blue lightning exploded from the ground where she stood, consuming all in a blinding storm. The earth convulsed, debris launched skyward, the very air shuddering. The world seemed swept into a tide of destruction.
Dyrtose exhaled heavily, eyes narrowed, trying to glimpse the aftermath of his attack.
But even before the light of the blast had faded, Ashtoria was already at his side.
She emerged like a phantom from hell, faster than light itself. With a single hand, she seized Dyrtose's leg, yanking him off balance midair. Her grip was an unbreakable shackle.
His body jolted violently. Black fire crawled from her hand, coiling around him, writhing like starving serpents eager to feast.
Dyrtose's eyes widened as agony tore through him. His bones began to splinter, his blood boiled within his veins, his heart convulsed wildly, near bursting from his chest.
And yet, through the unbearable torment, his lips curved into a bitter smile.
"Die… you disgusting monster!"
Blue light surged from his eyes.
In the next fraction of a second, an unimaginable explosion of lightning erupted from within him.
The sky collapsed.
Azure lightning surged outward, engulfing the night in radiant fury. Energy waves shook the earth, ripping through the air until it burst apart. The ground quaked, the heavens split open.
Ashtoria and Dyrtose's bodies vanished within the brilliance, swallowed by the cataclysm.