The path back to the outer battlefield was long… far longer than Mia or Amelia had imagined.
Zero's unconscious body was heavy—not physically, but in presence. Even without Dragon Force, even without active mana, there was something deeply unsettling about carrying him… as if the world itself recognized the energy sleeping inside his veins.
And feared it.
Mia and Amelia trudged through a valley of collapsed stone pillars and scorched ground, their footsteps echoing against the dying sounds of distant clashes between retreating devil remnants and the final coordinated pushes of human forces.
The air still carried the stench of Aamon's dark energy—bitter, metallic, suffocating.
But compared to the choking darkness inside the palace, this was tame.
Zero's breaths were shallow, almost imperceptible. His mana pulsed in uneven waves, each one threatening to burst and consume everything around them.
Mia tightened her hold and whispered, "Hang in there… you idiot."
