-----Ruijerd Superdia POV----
I don't remember exactly when it happened.
All I know is that something warm rushed through me, snapping me out of the twisted nightmare I'd been stuck in for what felt like forever. It was like waking up from a bad dream, only to find out the real world was worse.
I opened my eyes and saw my son with his own spear shoved through his chest, blood pouring out and soaking my hands. His body was still twitching, his lips trying to form words he didn't have the strength to say. Behind him, my wife lay slumped against the wall, her favorite shawl torn and soaked in red. My daughter's doll was on the floor, its head cracked open, staring up at the ceiling with glassy eyes.
I looked around and saw our home covered in blood. The walls, the floor, even the table where we used to eat together. Everything was stained red. The fire was still going, casting shadows on the mess
I stepped outside, slow and unsteady, like my legs didn't belong to me anymore. I pushed aside the woven reed curtain, and a wave of thick, stifling air pressed against my face, heavy with the stench of blood and smoke.
The ground was dry and cracked, still warm from the fires that had swept through. Ash drifted through the air like lazy snow, glowing faintly in the light.
Then I saw the village. Bodies covered the paths of people I'd laughed with, trained beside, shared meals with. Some still gripped their weapons, locked in their final stance. Others lay flat, eyes wide, like death came too fast to understand. Blood soaked the dirt, mixing with broken charms and scattered toys. The wind moved through it all, slow and heavy, like it was mourning with me.
I kept walking, past the huts with their roofs half-collapsed, past the people I couldn't bring myself to look at for too long. My feet moved on their own, but my mind was somewhere else, slipping in and out, like I was drifting between dreams and waking.
After that, things got blurry. I'd lose track of time, forget where I was. Sometimes I'd wake up in the woods, or by a river, or in the ruins of another village, with no memory of how I got there.
Only hatred filled the emptiness inside me.
And from that hatred, nothing but bloodshed was born.
I hunted anyone who still backed the Laplace campaign, anyone who whispered support, anyone who carried its mark. I crossed the demon continent leaving a trail of bodies behind me.
For decades, I wiped out bloodlines. Entire clans vanished under my son's spear.
And when the final enemy collapsed beneath my spear, choking on his own screams and pleading for a mercy, it wasn't his voice that stayed with me. It was hers. My wife's cry, sharp and terrified...
The sounds of my own son calling out for me when I failed to reach them.
That's when it hit me.
They were truly gone.
No amount of slaughter could bring them back.
The rage didn't burn anymore. It collapsed inward, crushing my chest like a stone. Breathing felt impossible. Like my lungs were locked up, refusing to move. All that was left was the weight. The silence. And the blood I couldn't wash off.
Tired and worn down to the bone, I don't remember much from those years, just the tight grip I kept on my son's old spear, the way its surface had grown smooth beneath my fingers after centuries of holding it like a lifeline was the last piece of him I had left, and never letting go of it ever again.
I tried to clean the stain off our name, to bury the fear and hatred tied to the Superdia's legacy. But the deeper I walked into the world, the more I realized how heavy that name had become.
In the vision that haunted me, I wandered through a vast, empty darkness carrying a boulder so massive it bent my spine and crushed my breath, a burden shaped from centuries of blood, regret, and the cries of those I failed to protect. Each step dragged slowly sinking into the shadows.
And then, through the haze, I saw him. A person, standing alone in the dark, his arm raised, pointing toward something I couldn't see. I followed his gesture, and in the distance, barely visible, a glimmer of light flickered.
My legs trembled, the weight pressing harder with every breath, but I forced them to move. One step. Then another. Each one felt like it tore something loose inside me, but I kept walking.
And through that slow, agonizing journey, I reached something I never thought it was possible.
A world where the honor of Superdia is restored.
A world where demons and humans live side by side.
A world where I have a family again. One I can love. One I can protect.
And the one who showed me that path…
Was you.
Rudeus.
-----Rudeus Greyrat POV-----
The cavern air was cool, carrying the scent of damp stone and lingering ash. From the shadows, a hundred silent eyes pressed against me, their faith as sharp as the blades they carried. And standing between us was Ruijerd.
He stepped forward, his silhouette broad and unyielding, the green of his hair dulled by age. His spear rested at his side.
For a moment, he looked at me but I found myself staring at the ground, tracing the cracks in the stone with my eyes, as if I could fall into them and disappear.
"Ruijerd..." I said, my voice rough "It's been… long..."
Ruijerd didn't answer right away. I heard the faint scrape of his sandals on gravel, the subtle shift of his weight.
I cleared my throat.
"You look well. Or as well as any of us can, these days."
He inclined his head, a gesture so familiar it hurt.
"You've changed, Rudeus."
I flinched. I couldn't help it. My hands curled into fists at my sides, nails biting into skin.
"I suppose I have." I forced a laugh.
A silence stretched between us. I could feel the Crusade's impatience behind him, the weight of their judgment.
I risked a glance at his face.
His expression was unreadable.
"I heard stories," his voice was low. "Of what you've done."
I swallowed. The words tasted like ash.
"Most of them are true."
He slightly nodded, as if he'd expected nothing less.
"Why?"
I shook my head, staring at the torchlight.
"Does it matter? I could tell you about the things I thought I had to do. But in the end, I chose wrong, again and again."
Ruijerd's gaze didn't waver.
I looked away, shame burning in my chest.
He was silent for a long moment. I heard the Crusade shifting, armor clinking, I wondered if they would rush us.
"Do you remember the night on the Demon Continent?" he said quietly. "When we sheltered in the ruins, and you told stories to keep Eris from crying?"
"..."
"You said then that even in darkness, there could be light. That we could make our own."
I closed my eyes.
That cheesy anime-like line... Urgh what was I thinking...
"I was young."
"Do you still believe it?"
"I-"
I hesitated. The words caught in my throat, tangled with regret.
The silence that followed was heavy and unpleasant. The cavern seemed to shrink around us, filled only with the sound of dripping water.
I couldn't bring myself to look directly at him. My mind filled with questions, how much did he know, why was he standing with the Crusade, what had brought him here after all these years? But one question pressed harder than the rest, clawing at my throat.
"How is… Norn?"
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
"..."
What was I hoping for? Of course, a brother like me who have abandoned his family and stained his family name has no right to know.
"She is healthy."
My body moved before I realized it, my head lifting, my eyes locking with his. In that gaze I saw not the hardened warrior I remembered, but the presence of a man who had lived as a husband, as a father and someone who had found peace in the very places where I had lost everything.
Ah… I understand.
A small smile tugged at my lips.
"I am glad."
I lifted my hand and pointed toward the study room.
"You came to retrieve something, didn't you? The Sacred Texts are in my personal safe, just beyond that door."
The atmosphere eased for a moment, the tension loosening as the Crusade's commander barked quiet orders. The men moved quickly, disappearing into the study to fetch what they had come for.
We waited in silence, the cavern filled only with the sound of footsteps and the faint scrape of stone. The priest returned, clutching the ancient tome with careful hands, and gave the commander a firm nod of approval.
For a brief instant, I savored the warmth of silence beside my old companion. But it didn't last. The moment collapsed into emptiness as the weight of my body reminded me of my mana being more than ninety percent gone, leaving me empty and cold.
The device is ready.
Despite having the power to initiate the sequence right away, I held back. If a fight would break out everything here would be at risk in getting destroyed.
Better to tell them to leave-
"Rudeus."
Before I could move my lips, his gaze shifted. The warmth I had glimpsed earlier vanished, replaced by cold, distant eyes that cut straight through me. A shiver crawled down my spine.
"I sense a child behind your back."
The last word carried a faint edge of bloodlust.
"He is my servant," I said quickly. "He helps me with the chores of my house."
But Ruijerd's muscles tightened, his grip on the spear so fierce I heard the faint crack of its shaft. His eyes burned with abhorrent, waiting for the truth to bleed out.
It was the same look he gave me long ago, when I lied about selling Aqua Heartia.
"You… how much do you know?" I sighed.
"..."
His silence told me everything.
"Magic God Quagmire!"
I snapped, locking into the knight commander.
"The Church has been informed that you are using young children for magic experiments."
The words struck like chains. An ominous weight crawled up from my feet, pinning me in place. I closed my eyes, unable to meet Ruijerd's gaze.
"Rudeus... Is it true?"
Ruijerd.
You know my situation better than anyone. As much as both of us might want to deny these accusations, to bury them under a white lie that could spare our bond and let us walk away… I can't. I won't do it. I am done running.
"It is true."
The words echoed. The Crusaders erupted, voices rising into war cries that shook the cavern walls. The commander spat, his sword flashing as he drew it with righteous fury.
"I, commander of the 51st Milis Crusade, demand that you cease these human experiments and surrender the child at once!"
I lowered my gaze to my hands old, feeble, lined with the marks of time. They trembled.
"I refuse."
The commander's face hardened.
"Then we have no choice but to take him by force."
Aura flared across the Crusaders' bodies, their battle cries rising in unison as the commander shouted encouragement to his battalion.
And Ruijerd… I couldn't bring myself to look at him. Not now. A fight was inevitable. My mana shifted into place, my stance firm, the air around me trembling with the weight of what was to come.
The Crusaders roared across the cavern, but Ruijerd's presence cut through it all. His spear raised, the tip gleaming in the dim light, and with a single step forward the air shifted emitting the kind of pressure only a true warrior could command.
"Rudeus."
My eyes slowly lifted towards him. In his face carried an unexpected smile.
"Let's meet again."
My eyes widened, my mouth parted in disbelief. A grin formed on my lips.
Idiot. That could only happen if I make it to heaven.
The Crusaders surged forward, their aura blazing, blades raised high. I clenched my fists, electricity sparking across my arms, forming a barrier that hissed and cracked against the cavern walls. The air smelled of ozone as my mana pulsed through me like a storm barely contained.
This was it. My last stand.
-----Sebastian POV-----
Master's device began to shine, the wooden arc spinning slowly at first, then gathering speed. The hum deepened, resonating through the cavern like a heartbeat.
Then, in a sudden burst of light, hexagonal layers shimmered into existence, crystalline surfaces wrapping the chamber in a protective shell.
The tremors of soldiers charging forward rattled the ground and the sounds of raging men and crashing iron echoed, a storm pressing against the fragile wall of light. My master stood at its center, arms trembling as he forced mana into the barrier. Sparks sputtered from his fingertips, the hexagonal shields flickering, each layer thinner than the last.
The Crusaders struck again, swords slammed, spears scraped, their aura burning hotter with every charge. The barrier shuddered, fractures spreading like veins of ice across its surface. Each impact rattled the cavern floor, dust raining down and the shield was failing.
His stance faltered. Feet dug into stone, shoulders hunched, breath ragged. Every heartbeat drained more of his strength, every second dragged the barrier closer to collapse. The light pulsed weakly now, arcs of electricity snapping without force.
He couldn't hold it much longer.
I clenched my fists.
I sprinted from my hiding spot, weaving through the spinning arcs of the device, their speed increasing with every second. My eyes locked on the old man's back, his figure braced against the storm.
"Old man! Let me help!" I shouted, my voice cracking with desperation as I gathered energy in my core.
He turned sharply, sweat streaking his face, his voice cutting through the chaos.
"Idiot! Stay back!"
A hot gust of wind slammed into me, knocking me back toward the center of the device. I staggered, forcing myself upright, but the arcs spun so violently now that I couldn't escape their circle.
The shield shattered with a sound like breaking glass, shards of light scattering into the cavern.
Time slowed.
My eyes locked on my master's back as the Crusaders surged through the breach. Blades pierced him one after another, steel sinking deep, blood spilling in crimson arcs that painted the stone. His body jerked with each strike.
No… not again.
Every heartbeat seared itself into me. I couldn't see his face, only the collapse of his frame, the old man who had carried me from despair now crumpling the crush of steel and blood.
The machine roared, its core blazing with light. The wooden arcs spun faster, faster, until their motion blurred, reversing in impossible speed. Sparks leapt from the device, the air trembling with raw magic.
And then I saw him.
A tall figure, green hair catching the glow, spear gleaming. Ruijerd's stance was unyielding, his eyes locked on the device. With a single motion, he hurled the weapon forward, the spear cutting through the chaos like lightning.
The moment it struck, the world convulsed. Light erupted, swallowing stone, steel, and blood alike.
The world exploded into white.