The dagger tip pressed against my exposed jugular. The Demon General, the youth with eyes like burning rubies, maintained his cold smile.
"Any last wish?" he whispered, his voice resonating with ancient, terrible power.
My mask was gone. The internal discipline that suppressed my emotions was ripped away. The raw, freezing shock of fear, the fierce **rage** over the death of my unit, the profound **despair** over my failure—it all crashed into my mind. The surge was overwhelming, but the final, desperate will to protect held me together.
*If I die, then it should be the last death of a human by a demon.*
I locked my gaze on his. The General saw a volatile, terrifying mix of conviction and chaos.
"You are weak," he scoffed. "You cannot give me a scratch. Why should I listen to you?"
"So that's how it is," I whispered.
I released it all. Every remaining trickle of mana in my core, the reservoir of forbidden energy, and the ambient mana surrounding my body—I pulled it into a single, devastating concentration. The energy was an unbearable pressure, a silent explosion tearing at my soul.
"Are you mad? Your body won't handle it!" the General said, genuine alarm flashing in his crimson eyes.
In that instant, fueled by the will to protect, I fired a purely kinetic mana technique: an invisible, silent **Wind Blade**. It struck his dagger, pushing the weapon back a single, precious millimeter. I stepped backward, gaining three meters.
"Impressive," he conceded, the smile returning.
The duel resumed, fueled by chaos. My body, saturated with raw, forbidden mana, was adapting at an impossible rate. The **Black Flames** that had erupted on my sword roared to life, not as light, but as a consuming darkness that fed on my internal pain.
I attacked. The blade clashes were a frantic, metallic symphony. I matched his terrible speed, countering and anticipating. My mind, racing on the high-octane fuel of despair, was faster than my body had ever been.
He struck at my feet. I dodged with a clean, 360-degree back-kick, swirling my sword. The black fire melted the General's outer obsidian armor layer. He countered with a focused Water Attack, but the Black Flames—the essence of raw despair—prevented easy healing.
The cost was immediate. Blood began to seep from the corners of my ears and nostrils, signs of catastrophic internal mana rupture. My body was screaming, but the chaotic flood of emotion kept my senses focused. I did not stop.
Miles away, in the deep shelter reserved for non-combat personnel, **Mira** clutched my Mother's arm. They were surrounded by civilians and support staff—all the **safe people**.
"Mom, see... is it... is it *Bro* fighting the demon?"
Mother, who had been anxiously watching the wide-angle, saw the figure: the young man, his face revealed, sword blazing with impossible darkness, blood leaking from his ears. She covered her mouth with trembling hands, the sound of her sob tearing through the otherwise silent bunker.
"Ryn... my Ryn..."
Meanwhile, at the **forward aid station** near the healing unit, the evacuated soldiers—veterans mostly aged **twenty-five to thirty-five**—were watching the same horrifying feed. They saw the teen fighting alone, sacrificing his body. A wave of profound, collective shame and regret washed over them. They were the veterans, the adults, and they had failed to protect the youth fighting their battle. Hardened men and women began to cry silently, their professionalism annihilated by Ryn's lonely, suicidal heroism.
I kept fighting, running purely on the final dregs of my consciousness. My mana was almost gone, my vision darkening at the edges.
The General, sensing my mana ebb, landed a critical counter-punch directly on my abdomen.
The force was crippling. I flew backward, shattering against a jagged rock. I vomited a heavy plume of blood.
I dragged myself toward my sword. *I don't trust him to keep his promise,* I thought, the last vestige of will surfacing. *It ends here and now.*
I used every last shred of mana, every atom of despair. The Black Flames erupted, spiraling upward, a pillar of consuming darkness that reached the clouds.
At the aid station, **Serin** awoke, her eyes snapping open from the violent spiritual scream of the black flame pillar.
She saw the rising inferno. It was not the familiar, controlled power of her Lunaris lineage, but something chaotic, terrifying, and utterly **unknown**.
**Eron** was at her side. He looked up at the darkness. "What is that?"
Serin's composure dissolved. "**Ryn!**" she screamed, the name raw with absolute terror.
Eron froze, realizing the Masked Guy was their Commander. He grabbed Serin's collar. "What did you just say?"
"Save Ryn, you Commander!" she cried.
Eron ripped off his armor and screamed, his voice amplified by his core mana. "All soldiers of Earth! Listen to me! We cannot abandon our Commander! He is still a child! It is our job to protect the young! Divide into teams by affinity! Gather all mana, and shoot it toward the barrier!"
"Die!" I roared into my helmet, the last word cracking. I performed a desperate, final vertical slash. It was an all-consuming clash. I collapsed immediately, vomiting blood, and felt consciousness fade.
Serin screamed into her radio. "Fire it! Now! No matter the risk!"
The barrier—strained by the attacks and the General's own defense—could not hold Ryn's final, destructive mana release. The entire structure failed.
Due to the massive **pressure imbalance**—high internal mana density, low oxygen, and normal air pressure outside—the disintegration was catastrophic. A lightning-fast sandstorm exploded outward, a furious fusion of air and mana that instantly consumed the center of the battlefield.
As the comms channel died in a burst of static, Ryn's final, desperate message was broadcast to every soldier wearing a helmet and every civilian tuned into the **worldwide radio feed**:
>*"Farewell, Eron... Serin, or should I call you sis... and all soldiers. And if Mira and Mom you are watching, I am always with you."*
***
When the storm settled, Serin used her own spell to clear the sand. There was no axe, no sword, and **no body**.
The Demon General pulled the Black Flame-singed spear from his chest. He went to the empty ground where Ryn was last seen. He sat in a warrior's posture, one knee on the ground.
He smiled, a look of profound, quiet respect washing over his young face. **"Rest in pride, Soldier. You were strong. Had you not failed here, I would have wanted to make you my disciple."**
He stood, facing the soldiers encircling him, his voice booming across the ravaged land. "I, the Third General of the Demon King, cease this war right now. I will come for an agreement tomorrow."
He turned, stepped into a rift he created, and vanished.
Serin collapsed, staring at the empty, scorched ground. "**RYN!**" she screamed, the sound tearing through the final silence.
Eron arrived, his face stripped of composure. "We have to report to the Apex Council," he choked out.
Serin, seizing control, asserted her authority into her comms. "I am Vice Commander of the current international raid. I delay the funeral and report meeting until tomorrow." She began to weep, the perfect, cold control shattered.
The few surviving soldiers and medics arrived, silent with shock. In the shelter, Mira was catatonic. Mother was screaming, her voice raw with grief. "Ryn, why? You said you were only helping with strategy!"
After seeing the scale of the destruction—only **sixteen confirmed deaths** among the combat soldiers, the rest injured—Serin and Eron visited the shelter.
Mira was asleep. Serin, wearing her formal Eclipsera dress, met with the Mother.
"We are in deep grief," Serin said.
"Why are you apologizing?" Mother replied, her voice empty. "But did you help find my second child? His name was Eron."
Eron removed his mask. He was crying. "Mom, why did he do that?"
Mother touched his face. "He had a wish to do that from childhood. He listened to those religions—those who didn't fear death and always fought one-sided battles and has most triumph."
Eron turned toward Serin.
Serin replied, her voice barely a tremor. "I have this feeling, Eron. The amount of mana he released... the way his body dissolved... it was not a normal death. I can't prove it, but my contract with his soul is still faintly active."
She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Listen carefully. Ryn may be alive. But if he is, it's hard for him to come here."
Mother flared up, gripping Serin's arm. "What do you mean, Vice Commander?"
"If you want to know the other part," Serin said, her eyes gentle, "you should call me Serin, or daughter. Until all things settle, I will leave with you."
"Okay, my beautiful daughter," Mother replied, the sadness overwhelming her. "Can I allow you to sleep with Mira for now?"
"It's not a problem," Serin said. She closed her eyes, and her body instantly shifted into a small girl same size as Mira and goes to sleep with her
[A/N it's the longest chapter I have written till now may be you have to do a little struggle to read all but as it's almost the end of this arc this length is necessary farewell!😉]