Perfect Guard.
Perfect Guard.
Perfect Guard.
Raymed's hammering through the carnage. The battered plains rang with the clash of blade and mana, but every time Focalors attacked, a golden bulwark protected her enemy again and again. A golden barrier to protect him against despair.
Focalors' frustration had reached fever pitch. Every time she lunged, Raymed met her with a wall of radiant mana, letting her attacks rebound off his Perfect Guard. Her claws screeched, her demonic lance shattered, but Raymed only smiled, his platinum armor shining brighter with every blow.
"You call yourself a Demon Lord Envoy? At this point, you're just a practice dummy," Raymed taunted, his eyes cool and calculating.
Focalors howled, black wings unfurling. "You dare MOCK ME?! I'll tear you limb from limb!"
But Raymed only shrugged, deflecting another barrage, each collision crackling with mana.
Each time his barrier flared, he felt more and more energy seeping through the barrier, flowing into him. Not the poisoned, corrupt mana of her destructive ray, but pure, raw mana. Focalors didn't know. Perhaps she couldn't even feel it.
Raymed's mind churned behind the mask of bravado.
This whole time… this was the plan.
He let Focalors rage.
He gave her hope, baited her with every taunt, all the while draining her—bit by bit—with Chronic Eater.
She never realized.
Her deadly ray?
Sure, that stuff was poison.
But these—her claws, her spear, even her close-range attacks—were just mana.
Not the same contamination as before.
Because if her regular mana was tainted, I'd have been dead the first time we fought.
He tightened his grip on Ezel, feeling the sword pulse in his hand.
Almost there. Just a little more.
His awareness sharpened suddenly—colors, sounds, even the flicker of Focalors' muscles before she attacked. At that point, Raymed realized that he had reached another step beyond his evolution into a High Human.
Is this… what 2% feels like?
The realization thrilled him, a silent surge of triumph.
At the start of this round two, I could already defeat her easily. But I don't want to take any more chances. Until I surpass her greatly, that's the only time I will strike. And that time has finally arrived.
Split Flow Deactivate.
Raymed let his aura flare—reddish-gold light spiralling from his skin, twisting and dancing with power barely held in check.
Focalors stopped, sudden fear flashing in her eyes. She hissed, backing away, then drew in a shuddering breath. Her wings curled around her as she opened her jaws, gathering mana in a vortex of shimmering black and violet.
"DUSKAL VERISTA ABADDON!"
The world itself seemed to flinch. Black-violet energy swirled into a singularity, then erupted—a column of annihilating light that tore through the sky, blasting downward in a torrent of ruin aimed straight at Raymed.
Split Flow Activated.
He braced himself, slamming Ezel's point into the earth. "PERFECT GUARD!"
The shield materialized, a radiant dome of golden mana, and the beam struck with the force of a falling star.
Raymed gritted his teeth.
The noise was deafening—a roar like every battlefield he'd ever known, layered with Focalors' unhinged scream of hate.
The barrier cracked, lines spiderwebbing through the golden shield as the blast pressed harder, harder, harder—
Cracks splintered wider. The light became blinding, suffocating.
Raymed's figure was engulfed in the inferno, platinum armor swallowed by shadow and flame.
The explosion that followed was cataclysmic—a shockwave of sound and light that sent fiends and demons tumbling, flattening the grass, splitting the very ground. When the blast faded, all that remained was a gaping crater, its center scorched and smoking.
Focalors hovered above, panting, her chest heaving.
Her eyes scanned the crater—no movement, no sound, no sign of life.
She laughed—a ragged, victorious sound. "See? I TOLD YOU! NOT EVEN YOUR USELESS HOPE CAN SURVIVE MY WRATH!"
Silence stretched.
The wind carried only ash.
Focalors collapsed, drained, panting from the force of her own magic.
The air shimmered with mana haze.
Then a new sound—a gasp, a wet gurgle.
A hand erupted from Focalors' chest, bloodless and terrible.
"Wha—what…"
Raymed's voice was cold steel, "I won't fall for that twice."
The smoke cleared. Ezel stood stabbed into the earth where Raymed stood before. Now his hand had pierced straight through Focalors from behind.
"You cast your barrier, then at the last second, ditched your weapon—"
Raymed's grin was wolfish. "Don't get me wrong. I could've defended against that blast just fine. But I was waiting for you to drop your guard. Now, it's time for you to stop playing with that heart."
His fist crushed the mana heart that he had grabbed.
Focalors shrieked in pain throughout the battlefield.
Raymed wrenched his hand free and leapt back.
With a gesture, Ezel spun back to his palm.
Split Flow Deactivate.
Red-gold mana spiralled around him.
Lightning flashed.
He pointed Ezel at her. "End of the line, Demon Lord Envoy."
Focalors, stumbling, screamed defiance to the last. ""YOU WON'T DEFEAT ME AND EVEN IF YOU DO YOU ARE DOOMED! YOU CAN NEVER WIN AGAINST OUR GREAT DEMON KING! ONLY DEATH WILL COME FOR YOU AND YOU ONCE HE DESCENDED YOU WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY!"
Raymed's eyes narrowed, but a smirk curled his lips. "Like I give a shit."
He looked past Focalors, past all the hatred, past even his own pain.
This power… this hope… it's not just mine.
Faces flashed through his mind—Thalamik, Carmilla, Kourin, Trish, Lulu, Killiar, Diko, and Dwargo.
I'm not alone anymore.
No... I never was.
He raised his sword, and his voice rang across the battlefield, a beacon in the chaos.
"Hope shines in the darkest night.
Unaware of how deep the abyss is.
But Hope is what I fight for, and Hope is what connects us.
Our bond itself is the Hope that shines into any darkness."
"PLATINUM STAR OF HOPE—ULTIMATE!"
For a second, everything went silent.
.
.
.
.
Then Raymed roared,
"EZEL!"
Light exploded, obliterating the world in a torrent of brilliance. Focalors screamed as the sword's power struck, vaporizing her. Her body fractured, dissolved, shattered—crumbling away into nothing.
When the light faded, only Raymed stood, bathed in the golden dawn of a new hope, breathing hard, but unbroken. The battlefield was a crater of silence.
He took one last, shuddering breath, then looked to the sky.
There was more to do.
His friend needed him.
Without another word, he soared upward, platinum armor gleaming, flying to join Thalamik.
***
The sky over the battlefield pulsed with supernatural violence. Even as Thalamik coordinated his fiendish legions against Vepar, a piercing shriek split the skies, followed by a sound of immense detonation.
Thalamik stiffened.
Vepar, floating serenely at the heart of the mana-storm, tilted her head with a sly, knowing smile.
"Focalors~ It seems you have been defeated!" Vepar sang, her voice disturbingly melodic. "Then, as planned, your Demonic Core will be mine. Hehe…"
She extended a delicate, webbed hand, and the world shuddered as a new mana fluctuation rippled across the plains—a presence blacker than night, dense and hungry.
Panic flashed in Thalamik's mind.
He seized his telepathic comm-link, voice sharp with urgency.
"RAY! Do you feel that? Vepar is trying to consume something of Focalors!"
Raymed, still airborne, scanned the chaos below—until, at last, he spotted it: a single, pulsing black orb, drifting toward Vepar like a mote of death.
"I SEE IT!"
Raymed wheeled in the sky, Ezel flaring, and streaked straight for the orb, blade drawn back for another finishing blow.
"RAY, USE EVERYTHING YOU'VE GOT— I've got a bad feeling about this!" Thalamik said.
Raymed's aura surged, his voice cracking with resolve as he unleashed the Platinum Star of Hope—Ezel's edge burning with light. The instant before impact, a torrent of liquid shot upward—a watery hand, summoned by Vepar, shielding the orb with inhuman speed.
Raymed roared, "HAAA!" and slammed his sword against the barrier. Light and shadow collided in a blinding flash.
Another explosion rocked the field—Raymed's blade shattering the watery shield and finally smashing through the black orb.
But as the smoke cleared, Vepar only smiled—unbothered, triumphant.
Thalamik's heart froze. He realized, too late.
That wasn't just an organ.
That Demonic Core was pure mana.
It couldn't be destroyed.
It should have been sealed or absorbed!
"RAYMED, GET HERE—NOW!" He said.
A rain of dark particles, writhing like living shadows, flew through the air and plunged into Vepar's body. Her form shuddered, warping, growing—her silhouette twisting into something nightmarish.
"Shit! What the hell is this…?"
Vepar's transformation was immediate. Her mermaid-like body hovered at the center—elegant, luminous, and pale—but monstrous tentacles burst forth, each one the size of a ship's mast, roiling and crashing in every direction. Towering wings, jagged and wrong, sprouted from her back, doubling her height. Water and darkness spiralled together, giving her the aspect of a dark deity, warped and enraged.
Vepar let out a voice like the deep ocean: "Let's see how hope fares against despair, little heroes."
She lashed out—tentacles striking down Thalamik's fiends, mana scattering in every direction. Thalamik, cursing, was forced to dispel his remaining soldiers near Vepar to keep Focalors' power from strengthening her further.
Raymed landed beside Thalamik, breathless, eyes wide at the monstrous spectacle.
"Vepar just absorbed Focalors' Demon Core," Thalamik said grimly. "She might inherit all her power!"
"Shit… As if fighting one Demon Lord Envoy wasn't enough."
Vepar, now a towering sea demon, loomed above them—elegant and terrible, every movement promising annihilation.
Thalamik drew his daggers, voice calm but edged with steel. "Here it comes."
The shadow of the monstrous Vepar stretched over the battlefield.
***
In the gloom of the Vanguard Academy's war room, Director Diko hunched over a console, eyes burning holes into a wall of magical projections. Each screen showed a different feed: the battlefield shrouded in smoke, Raymed's duel, Thalamik's fiends, and—towering above it all—the monstrous silhouette of Vepar.
Diko slammed his fist against the desk, rattling the scrying stones. "Goddammit—how the hell are we supposed to kill that thing?"
An aide burst in, breathless. "Director, the Board has issued another emergency meeting!"
Diko exhaled sharply and strode from the war room, storming down the hall to the crystalline boardroom. The moment he entered, Celathis, Director Yu, Loval, Tels, and other high-ranking faculty were seated on the table.
Celathis began without preamble. "It has come to our attention that the Demon Lord Envoy Vepar has absorbed Focalors and evolved into something stronger. We failed to account for the possibility that Demon Lord Envoys could cannibalize each other's power. Even after Chronic Eater's second battle with Focalors, his level is nowhere near that of the new Vepar. The same could be said for Fiend Kaiser. The warriors have done well, but I believe it would be wise to order a retreat."
Director Yu nodded. "I agree with Celathis. We should pull back—there's no sense throwing more lives away."
"That sounds idiotic, Yu!" Director Loval cut in, voice tight with frustration. "If we back down now, who knows how much stronger it'll become? You saw what happened with Focalors—if Vepar's gaining her absorption abilities, the longer we wait, the worse it gets."
Celathis maintained her calm voice. "That may be true, but our original strategy, suggested by Diko to overwhelm them with pseudo-artifacts and our best students, is now obsolete. Most of the demon army near this city's border has already been dealt with. With Vepar's new strength, we risk losing everyone for naught."
Yu folded his arms. "We should order a general withdrawal."
A tense silence followed.
Diko straightened, eyes fierce. "Regarding that matter, Vice Principal Celathis, I have a contingency plan—but I'll need your cooperation, as always. Gather every volunteer you can from the Academy—students, staff, anyone willing to fight. We need to reinforce the frontline."
Tels erupted, slamming his hand on the table. "What the hell are you thinking, Diko? Do you mean to sacrifice more—?"
"Be silent, Tels," Celathis said, cold and sharp.
Diko's voice was steady, unyielding. He explained the secret plan to everyone, and as he finished, Celathis stood up.
Celathis turned to the Board and said, "Effective immediately, Diko will lead as the main command for reinforcement operation at the Lupache estate. I want two battalions—our best—and a full division of mana tanks."
There was a beat of stunned silence—then, the board members nodded one by one.
"Thank you, Vice Principal," Diko said.
He glanced at the screens once more.
Hold out just a little longer. I'm coming. Please… stay alive until then.
***
Vepar, now an amalgamated horror of Focalors and herself, loomed like a grotesque deity, her form a swirling mass of water and shadow, tentacles lashing out with malevolent glee. Her laughter echoed, a cacophony of madness that drowned out the cries of the wounded and the clash of steel.
"Is this all you 'heroes' can do?" Vepar's voice slithered through the air, dripping with contempt.
"Entertain me! More and More!"
Thalamik stood amidst the remnants of his fiend army, their shattered forms littering the ground. He had no choice but to summon another wave, skeletal warriors rising to meet their fate. Raymed, his armor scorched and dented, charged alongside them, Ezel blazing with golden light.
Vepar's tentacles whipped through the air, smashing the fiends into dust. She conjured torrents of water shaped like dragons that surged forward, washing away the fiend army and carving trenches into the earth.
Raymed leapt, dodging the onslaught, and struck one of her tentacles. The blade met resistance, as if slicing through a viscous liquid, and then was repelled with a force that sent him crashing into the ground.
"HAHAHAHA Pathetic," Vepar sneered.
Thalamik was forced to summon another wave of Fiends.
But Vepar easily killed them and absorbed the mana residue of those she killed, increasing her power.
"You cannot defeat me," she taunted. "I am the abyss, endless and consuming."
With little to no chance of fighting the battle head-on, Thalamik called the banshees as they took Raymed and himself away from Vepar.
The sky above the Lupache estate was now torn with light and thunder.
Vepar, now a titanic sea demon, rampaged through armies of fiends and battered the last defenders with tentacles of living water.
Thalamik's Alterity and Raymed's Platinum Star combined in theory will be barely enough to buy seconds of slowing Vepar down.
It will soon make its way to where the army is located.
Thalamik and Raymed, bruised and bloodied, soared above the chaos astride banshees.
They inspected the field and would agree that, even with every undead soldier summoned, they could never match Vepar's strength.
Thalamik wiped blood from his lips, face grim.
"Her body's even stronger than Vepar was before, and it regenerates just as fast as before. Worse—she absorbs every trace of mana like she's breathing it. There's no end to this!"
He pressed a shaking hand to his chest, feeling the burn of mana depletion. "My Alterity is almost spent. Twenty minutes, maybe less."
For a moment, neither spoke—then Raymed forced a weak laugh, voice trembling. "Thalamik… we should retreat. We can't win, not like this."
But Thalamik shook his head. "No, Raymed. You should retreat. I can still force one more Alterity—"
He broke off, coughing violently, red flecks staining his glove. For a moment, he sagged, forcing his breath steady. "I can hold her for a few more minutes. Maybe an hour, if I'm lucky. I'll try to study her, find any weakness, and I'll transmit everything I learn to you—telepathically, if I can."
"Just stop, Mik!" Raymed snapped, a surge of panic breaking through his exhaustion.
"I don't want to hear any suicide plans from you. That's not the Thalamik I know!"
Thalamik's voice faltered, pain and guilt warring in his eyes. "Med… none of this was purely your fault. If I'd been here from the start, we might've won before this thing evolved. I failed, too."
Raymed's replied with anger. "Then why are you trying to shoulder it alone?! Aren't we supposed to face this together?!"
.
For a moment, Thalamik had no answer—his jaw worked, eyes searching the battered land. "Because if we let this thing roam, it'll only get stronger. If it absorbs any more mana, it'll become unstoppable. I can't just—"
His voice broke, the honesty cutting through his bravado. "I don't have any tricks left, Med. No more plans. Seeing this thing… for the first time in a long time, I'm afraid."
Raymed looked at him, something breaking in his own voice. "You're not alone, Mik. I feel it too. If you say you're out of ideas, so am I. You think I'd have a plan if you didn't?"
They hung there in silence, two battered warriors clinging to each other's presence in hopelessness.
Thalamik smiled sadly as he looked at Raymed. "We can only hope. Hope that someone else—anyone—will find a way to kill this monster. It doesn't have to be us. Maybe it can't be us."
Raymed met his eyes, "Then I'll stay with you, Mik. Whatever happens. I'm not leaving you again this time."
Thalamik nodded, his own hands trembling. He drew a ragged breath, summoning more fiends from the shadow, flooding the battlefield with their ranks in a desperate attempt to hold Vepar back.
"Then I'll cast one more Alterity," Thalamik rasped. "Even if it kills my mind, my body will still serve as an achor to summon my fiends, holding the line. Protect me, Med. With everything you've got. We need to buy us as much time as you can."
Raymed nodded, "Got it."
They dove from the sky, landing hard on the ruined ground. Thalamik's mana roots spidered out once more, his body crumbling, but his mind set. Raymed stood before him, sword bared, ready to intercept the coming storm.
But Vepar's new form shimmered—her main body began to chant, water and darkness spiralling into a condensed orb in front of her.
"Trismestus. Gallantium. Excartalis…"
Thalamik's eyes went wide. "Med, she's charging another beam!"
Raymed drove Ezel into the earth, activating Split Flow and unleashing a golden barrier.
"Ars. Demonus. Kingus. Terasvit."
"Ratalis Cornus!"
The words of destruction ripped the air. The ray of annihilation blasted toward them, crashing against Raymed's barrier. The ground shook, cracks zigzagging out as the shield absorbed the brunt.
"PERFECT GUARD!"
Raymed gritted his teeth, screaming with effort as the golden light met the beam—cracks webbed through his shield, threatening to shatter it any second.
Thalamik, barely conscious, summoned more fiends, pressing them into the barrier, lending all the power he could muster.
"HAAAAAA!!" Raymed bellowed, his body trembling, the edges of his vision blurring.
Every muscle screamed, every fiber strained, but he would not let the shield fall.
Not yet.
Not yet.
Not yet.
Not yet.
Not yet.
Not yet.
Not yet.
Not yet.
"HUAAAAAARGHHHHHH!!!!!!""
Not yet.
Not yet.
Not yet.
Not yet.
Not yet.
The pressure mounted—a wall of pure force.
"HUARGHHH!!!!!!"
.
.
.
The shield began to splinter, mana flickering.
Raymed's heart pounded.
I'm sorry, Kourin. I can't fulfil my promise.
He closed his eyes.
The barrier shattered.
A searing flash consumed them and the world exploded in white—
The searing white faded, replaced by silence—
Raymed opened his eyes.
He felt breath in his lungs.
The world was still here.
A soft, almost sacred glow washed over him and Thalamik.
He looked to the front.
Before them, a vast dome of light had blossomed across the battlefield.
It stretched hundreds of meters, pale blue edged with rose gold, shaped like a massive, circular fan.
Luminous spokes radiated from its center, intricate as stained glass.
Footsteps sounded as the two looked behind them.
A smile formed on their faces, because—
Their Saint had arrived.