Silence fell the moment the echo of Kael's words faded. The sky of Limbus Reveria felt heavy—two universes above them frozen in place, white and red, like a breath held too long.
Kael's shadow did not speak at once. Its face tightened—then, slowly, it twisted into a grin. But it was no longer the smile of confidence. It was something far more fragile… and far more afraid.
"Bastard… you—you!"
The voice trembled, then shattered—overlapping into the roar of a hundred demons screaming at once.
"How dare you speak to me like that! I—I AM THE TRUE ONE! I WILL NEVER FORGIVE HIM!!"
It hunched forward, both hands clutching its head, digging in as if trying to tear itself apart.
A crimson-violet aura exploded violently from its body, surging upward, piercing the red universe overhead. Water, air—everything trembled, warped under the sheer pressure it released.
"KKYAHHAHAHAAHAAAAAAAAAA!!"
Kael's shadow screamed; its laughter fused with rage, reverberating into thousands of inhuman echoes.
The sky bled red. The black water beneath them began to boil.
Kael remained still.
But a moment later, his gaze shifted—his brows drawing sharply downward. Something about what he was seeing was wrong.
His body slid back slowly; his first step sent out a small ripple—then he leapt far away, nearly a hundred meters, putting distance between himself and his shadow.
Blood continued to drip from Kael's left shoulder, each drop hovering for a heartbeat before falling into the black pool below, spreading ripples that moved slowly, as if time itself had begun to drag.
Kael bent his knees, leaning slightly forward. His right hand never loosened its grip on Astra; the golden light along the blade rotated calmly, matching the rhythm of his heartbeat.
There was no physical way to stop the bleeding from his left shoulder—nothing could. Every falling drop froze briefly in midair, glinting beneath the glow of his aura, before sinking into the dark pool below.
But with every breath Kael took, the aura around him trembled. Golden currents began to crawl from the palm of his right hand toward his wounded shoulder, slowing the flow of blood with an almost invisible touch of energy—filling every tear in the wound with the resonance of his soul.
I know this is risky. But this… is the only thing I can do right now.
If I can't seal this wound with my body alone—then I'll hold it together with the power of this Abyssal Seal.
Fifteen minutes… that's enough. Enough to keep this life standing until everything ends.
Kael exhaled heavily, each breath pouring his resolve into the Abyssal Seal that restrained the wound. The injury remained open—yet his body stood upright, upheld not by flesh alone, but by sheer will.
No matter how long it takes. I will not fall.
The thought echoed within Kael—cold, unwavering.
Slowly, he straightened his legs again. The black pool beneath him rippled as reflected energy-light scattered across its surface, forming abstract patterns upon the water.
His eyes never left the demonic silhouette in the distance; his crimson pupils burned, piercing through the storm of darkness twisting violently around his shadow.
His calm voice cut through the chaos of energy surrounding them, declaring that though his body was wounded, his resolve remained whole.
"Enough. If you still think all of this is meant to frighten me, then you still don't truly know me. I've already died once—even death itself rejected my return. I'm not standing here to surrender to my own limitations. I'm here to rewrite the story they left behind. I stand here… because I have the right to redraw my own fate."
The light of Astra continued to resonate with every pulse of his Abyssal Seal. Tiny particles of energy drifted through the air, spiraling around the wound—visualizing the life force temporarily holding the bleeding at bay. Blood still fell from his left shoulder, but his aura and resolve made each drop seem as though it moved under his own will.
That aura declared a single truth—
Kael Vieron will not fall today.
No matter how deep the wound carved into him. He would endure. He would stand—unshaken, as his truest self.
Kael's shadow stopped laughing.
Its eyes ignited like living embers; its pupils stretched long, like cracks torn open from hell itself. The blood-red aura thickened further, spiraling around its body until it became a dense, raging storm.
"Heh… I should've rejected it from the beginning. But fine—let's end all this nonsense right here. No need to wait, because very soon…"
In an instant—
The cosmic sky fractured—literally. A dimensional rift tore open above Kael's shadow, yawning wide like a wound carved into the heavens.
"Witness the final war—and learn the true meaning of despair."
From thousands of blackened hands spilled out, dripping downward into the water below, which now rippled like an ocean of ink.
From those ripples, human forms emerged—Tyrak soldiers twisted and inverted by the Abyss. Their bodies were wrapped in black mist, crimson eyes burning sharp and cold.
Each step they took rang heavy—metal clashing against metal. Weapons in their hands dripped a glowing red liquid, shining like fresh, scalding blood.
Kael's shadow curved its lips into a cold grin, its voice dropping low.
"Enjoy… your final moments."
One by one, they appeared—ten, a hundred, a thousand—
Until the horizon was drowned beneath them, an endless tide. Nearly sixty thousand soldiers formed from the black water, which hardened into a pulsing, obsidian land.
Six battalions of darkness—each composed of thousands of entities: shield-bearers wielding straight blades; giants hefting double-headed axes the size of human bodies; and others carrying war hammers whose thunderous steps shook the ground beneath them.
All of them stood facing Kael, moving as a single entity, bound by the will of his shadow.
And at the center of that formation—
A three-headed Hydra rose from below.
Each head burst through the black pool, its scales like condensed mist, eyes glowing blood-red with living pulse. Heat vapor streamed from every breath it took.
And atop the central head stood Kael's shadow—the scythe Dregolauth in hand, curved like a hellish crescent moon.
Kael stared at the army without a trace of expression. The white universe above him had begun to crack, yet it still reflected his silhouette—standing upright, unyielding.
He raised Astra high into the air. The golden light along its blade trembled faintly, then flared—brilliant enough to illuminate half the sky. A thin smile appeared on his face; not the smile of victory, but of resolve that could not be shaken.
"With pleasure… I accept your challenge."
A single sentence—spoken so calmly it was as if nothing left in this world could make him waver.
From afar, Kael's shadow locked its gaze onto him. Its jaw tightened, eyes blazing. The scythe was lifted high, and with a faint smile—
"Fight well… my little puppet. Everyone… KILL HIM!!!"
The command detonated like a world-ending blast. The entire legion of darkness screamed in unison—soulless, will-less cries, nothing but echoes of annihilation.
The cosmic sky convulsed violently. Black water erupted in all directions as sixty thousand soldiers surged forward at once, swallowing the horizon, dragging mist, fire, and chaos in their wake. The three heads of the Hydra roared together, shaking space itself until the heavens above cracked and trembled.
Kael watched the oncoming storm in silence.
Then—calmly—he closed his eyes, sinking into a stillness known only to one who had already made peace with death. Because within that darkness… a single light had begun to rise.
The golden glow around Astra started to spin, thickening. One ring… two… three… until a massive vortex formed, wrapping itself around Kael's body.
Tiny particles—like dust made of light—peeled away from Astra's blade, drifting upward, flowing into every part of him. Even the black pool beneath his feet responded, spiraling upward; droplets lifted into the air, floating like thousands of pearls dancing in silence.
The footsteps of countless shadow soldiers thundered in the distance—heavy, rhythmic, heralding destruction. Yet amid that roar, Kael's voice carried clearly—soft, but absolute.
"O sovereigns above…"
"You who ignited life from nothingness. Lend me your hand, to seal the wound you left behind. Let me become your vessel… to bury the seeds of darkness at the foundation of this fractured world."
The light around Kael intensified.
Two Astron—white-silver pistols etched with gold lines and crimson cores—slowly emerged from behind his back, hovering as they circled Astra. Then two Fiyn, silver daggers with sharply glowing tips, joined the same orbit. The four weapons revolved around Astra, red lightning crackling from the Astron, golden ripples slicing through the air.
Kael's shadow, standing atop the Hydra's central head, narrowed its eyes. Its jaw tensed. But it did not move—it knew something beyond reason was unfolding before it.
Slowly, Kael opened his eyes.
Golden light ignited within his irises; his pupils narrowed into glowing vertical lines, radiating a sacred aura that devoured even the distant crimson light.
"Velar…"
I endure.
"Thyn…"
I destroy.
"Aster…"
I transcend.
"Three breaths of a single soul. Three forms of one will. Unite… in my name—Astraveil!!"
In an instant, a golden explosion surged upward from below. The black pool was hurled into the sky, forming a colossal spiral around Kael. Red-gold lightning tore through the vortex, while the ringing clash of metal echoed again and again—like an ancient ritual awakening.
Astron and Fiyn accelerated, snapping into place along Astra's blade. The two Astron fused at the base, transforming into radiant mechanisms, while the two Fiyn merged along the outer edges, forming small luminous wings near the sword's tip.
CRAAAKKK—!!!
CRAAAKKK—!!!
The vortex of light detonated, blinding the entirety of Limbus Reveria's sky.
And from within that light, the fused Astraveil emerged—a colossal white-gold greatsword with a radiant crimson core embedded at its center. Along its blade flowed two streams of power: gold along the upper edge, red through the core—rotating together like yin and yang in perfect harmony.
Kael grasped the sword's hilt with one hand. His left arm—once soaked in blood—now shone with golden light, as if the wound had been sealed not by flesh, but by sheer will alone. He drew a slow breath, then looked ahead—toward the shadow army that was nearly upon him.
A faint smile touched his lips. Not one of arrogance, but the smile of someone who had accepted every part of himself, and chosen to stand until the very end.
"This… is proof that humans can create miracles."
He swung the blade to the side—
—and the air shattered.
A golden ripple tore straight ahead, cleaving through the first ranks of the shadow army like a wave split apart by light.
The sky cracked further. The two universes above—white and red—collided directly now, merging at their center. Between them stood Kael, his sword blazing like a sun defying the void.
Kael's shadow, still standing atop the Hydra, screamed in fury—its voice echoing like the wail of countless spirits.
"KAEL VIERON!!! I WILL DESTROY YOU—ALONG WITH THIS WORLD!!!"
Kael did not answer.
He merely lowered his face slightly, closed his eyes, then raised his sword with one hand—its blade pointed straight ahead, ready to meet the storm of sixty thousand soldiers and a three-headed monstrosity.
And the moment he took that first step—
Sky, sea, and land trembled as one. The world bore witness to the birth of a power even the pillars of the universe had never dared to imagine.
The thunder of countless footsteps surged closer, louder—until at last, they reached Kael's very front.
The first wave of shadow soldiers leapt into the air. Spears of darkness lunged straight for him, followed by two massive blades from left and right, poised to cleave his body apart.
But in that instant—
The world stopped.
The air froze. Droplets of water suspended around Kael halted midair, gleaming like crystallized glass. Everything fell silent. Time itself paused for one thing alone—
Kael's gaze, slowly lifting.
His pupils burned sharp, like fissures of light splitting the darkness of the world. The blade in his hand—the fusion of Astra, Astron, and Fiyn—Astraveil—trembled softly, igniting thin lines of golden light in the air with every breath he took.
And within that suspended silence—
Kael vanished.
In a single golden flash.
Then came the sound—
Shhhkk. Shhhkk. Shhhkk. Shhhkk—!
Almost without echo.
One soldier lunging toward him was suddenly split clean in half in midair. Then another. Then ten. Then a hundred.
Kael's movements were impossible to follow; all that remained were twisting trails of light, like sacred lines dancing wildly through the air, slicing across thousands of shadowed bodies.
He did not shout. He made no sound. There was only motion—as if time itself had bowed to his will. Each swing of his sword birthed a golden shockwave; each step left behind fractured shards of air, cracked like glass.
Shadow Tyrak soldiers fell one after another—yet more continued to charge, indifferent to how many were erased.
Above, Kael's shadow muttered atop the Hydra, its voice quivering between rage and an unnameable fear.
"…Impossible."
The crimson-violet aura around it writhed violently, yet its gaze began to waver—as if it were finally realizing something it had long refused to accept:
That it was staring at a will no logic could restrain.
Kael came to a halt amid a sea of fallen warriors. Dark bodies dissolved into purple mist, rising skyward to be consumed by the darkness above. Before the air could even begin to move again, dozens more soldiers rushed in from all directions—thrusts, slashes, hammer blows, axe strikes—everything crashing toward him at once.
But this time, time did not even slow.
Kael had already moved.
Shhkk—!
He surged straight through them, his body carving a spiraling arc. Each rotation traced a ring of gold through the air—layered slashes of light that cut down everything in their path.
From afar, all that could be seen were thousands of luminous lines forming a vast symbol in the sky—a Scriptum elemental sigil, shaped like a geometric prism.
When the symbol completed—
A golden explosion swept across the battlefield.
The surge of energy erupted outward, birthing a storm of light that annihilated thousands at once. At its center stood Kael alone—one hand gripping the sword, his breathing steady, his gaze sharp yet calm.
Kael's shadow roared atop the Hydra, its voice booming as it commanded every remaining force to attack. Yet beneath the thunder of screams and the roars of abyssal beasts, Kael merely lowered his head slightly, then lifted his eyes toward the sky.
"I… am not finished."
The sacred blade in his hand shone brighter still—and the world cracked once more under his presence.
The thunder of countless shadowed footsteps did not cease. They kept coming from every direction, heedless of how many had already been swallowed by Kael's light. The clash of steel against steel filled the air, mixed with roars and screams that shook the black waters below.
Kael continued to move—slashes, thrusts, flashes of light. One hand wielded the holy sword, now pulsing like a living heart; every swing released sacred radiance that pierced the darkness. Golden particles scattered with each strike, spiraling through the air—like the traces of fate itself, rewritten by his own hand.
***