Slowly, Raze walked toward the place where Safa had stood only moments earlier. His steps were quiet, almost hesitant, as if his body still expected her to be there when he arrived. The circular imprint on the ground marked the exact spot where she had broken through to the Divine Stage, the floor cracked outward like the petals of a stone flower. Divine energy lingered in the air—thin, drifting threads of power that shimmered faintly as they floated upward.

Raze stepped inside the circle and knelt down, resting two fingers gently against the fractured floor.

He could still feel it. The warmth. The pressure. The faint echo of her presence.

She's really gone… she vanished just like that?

His brows furrowed as he thought through what he knew.

What makes Pagna warriors so different? Why are their bodies tied so deeply to the Divine Realm of their world that its influence reaches them no matter where they go? It's almost as if every Pagna warrior is born carrying a curse… or a blessing… something woven into the bloodline of their entire race, passed down through generations.

It was a frightening thought—one that made Pagna itself feel like a world built on secrets he still hadn't uncovered.

Raze let out a long breath, glancing upward. Through the jagged opening above, he could see the vast sky stretching endlessly into the distance. For a moment he imagined Safa somewhere beyond that sky, a single, tiny figure rising higher and higher into a realm he could not yet reach.

Is she safe right now… wherever she is?

It wasn't a question he could ignore.

The Divine Stage, from all accounts, was a dangerous place. Even warriors like Belil and the bloody woman—both of whom had monstrous levels of strength—had struggled in that realm. It wasn't a gentle ascension. It wasn't a reward. It was a battlefield of its own.

Will she have to fight alone? Will she have to learn to survive by herself?

He clenched his hand slightly, feeling a knot form in his chest.

The real issue was that he simply didn't know enough about the Divine Realm. No one did. The information that circulated among Pagna warriors was hearsay—rumors, stories, fragments from those who had ascended and briefly returned. Nothing solid. Nothing he could rely on.

And the few individuals who did know more… were long gone.

It would be useful to learn more, he thought, but there's nothing I can do for her unless I reach the Divine Realm myself. And I can't do that until I've finished what I came here to do. Until the last two Grand Magus are gone… I can't follow her.

He rose slowly to his feet.

In the back of his mind, memories began to flicker like old sparks—Safa as a mute girl in the orphanage, quietly looking after him even when she had no voice; Safa shielding him in moments he hadn't expected; Safa continuing to treat him as family even after learning the truth, even after realizing he wasn't really her brother.

He remembered her unwavering loyalty. Her willingness to walk into danger with him. Her stubbornness. Her strength.

She had trusted him without question.

And now she was facing an entire realm of monsters alone.

A heavy guilt pressed against his chest.

"In the end," Raze murmured, lowering his gaze, "you were a really good sister, Safa. Better than anything I ever imagined having."

His voice was quiet, almost swallowed by the desolate silence around him.

He should have felt triumphant—after all, he had defeated Gizin. He had taken another step toward avenging Sabrina. Another name crossed off the list. Another enemy gone.

But instead of satisfaction, there was only a hollow ache.

Even though Safa wasn't dead, he had still lost her.

I guess I should have admitted it sooner, he thought. I cared about you more than I ever wanted to admit.

It lingered only a moment before his focus sharpened. His senses snapped outward again, scanning the battlefield. He finally pushed aside his personal thoughts and concentrated on the surrounding flow of magic.

He felt something—a disturbance in the distance, a faint yet unmistakable ripple of dark energy. He had noticed it briefly earlier, but now he fully concentrated and traced its direction.

When he turned toward that source, a cold wave rolled through his fingers and up his arm.

"That way…" he muttered. "Isn't that the direction of the Shelters?"

Without wasting another second, he charged forward, leaping off the ground. Qi burst beneath his feet, and he combined it with wind magic to propel himself into the air. The ground shrank below him as he soared upward, gaining a clear view of the distant battlefield.

The first thing he saw was a massive tower jutting up toward the surface—clearly the one B had created. On top of it, he spotted a crowd of people, hundreds being lifted toward safety.

But before he could feel relief, his eyes shifted.

His heart sank.

A monstrous titan composed entirely of condensed Dark Magic loomed nearby, its enormous shape twisting with living shadows. Its sheer size dwarfed anything he had seen Harvey summon before.

Harvey's puppet? How did it become so huge? And why is it active now? Who is he fighting?

It didn't take long for the answer to become obvious.

Flashes of red—Blood Qi.

Streaks of lightning—Dame's transformation.

Cuts of condensed sword energy—the style Liam used.

They were there. His allies. The Pagna warriors. Struggling beneath the shadow of a creature that looked capable of swallowing the entire Underside.

Then he saw something devastating.

The puppet swung its massive limbs around the towering pillar, wrapping its dark tendrils around the structure. With a violent wrenching motion, it shattered the stone. The upper half collapsed instantly.

People—hundreds of them—fell screaming from the sky.

Alen and his men reacted without hesitation. Raze could see them leaping into motion, using every spell they had—wind magic to slow their descent, earth platforms forming desperately beneath falling bodies.

But it didn't matter.

Before many of the people could be saved, beams of concentrated Dark Magic shot across the sky, tearing through the falling citizens like arrows. Bodies vanished midair, exploding into dust.

Raze felt something tighten inside him.

Anger, sharp and cold.

"I have to get there. Now!"

With a flare of Dark Magic, he invoked the Dark Edge sword arts. A massive wing of darkness erupted from his back, and lightning engulfed his feet. He shot forward like a bolt launched from a bow, slicing through the air toward the Shelters.

***

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