After I confirmed Caerus was truly dead, a strange numbness began to crawl through me. My arms felt heavy, my legs weaker with every passing breath. It was as if someone had drained the marrow out of my bones.

I didn't know exactly what Nemes had done, but whatever it was, it had sucked me dry. Not just my strength—my very life force felt thinner, like I had just aged years in the span of minutes. Wrath slipped away from my body. Nemesis' scythe faded too.

Somehow, I had beaten Caerus with Nemes' weapon… but now I was a wreck.

And Zeus… damn it, Zeus would know.

He'd learn about this, wouldn't he?

Was this meant to play out like this?

My boots touched the ground softly. I turned my gaze then.

Rulana was locked in battle against Viessa and the other knights.

Viessa didn't look like a fighter to begin with so it was normal she was struggling against Rulana

But what about Cleara? She was still glued to the King's side, guarding him like he was made of glass. Honestly, what the hell was that man even doing here? Standing around like some proud ornament, a burden to everyone else. If his only purpose was to flaunt himself, then congratulations—he'd succeeded.

My vision swam, but I forced myself to summon Khryselakatos. The amber bow hummed faintly in my hand as I pulled the string back. I then immediately loosed a volley of arrows toward Rulana.

She turned her sharp gaze toward me just in time and leapt aside, my arrows carving craters into the ground where she had stood. I didn't let up. Arrow after arrow rained down. I wanted nothing more than to sit down, but rest would only come once she was dead.

"It seems like you've lost all the power you boasted earlier," she called out, her lips curling into a mocking smile.

I ignored her. My focus shifted to where she was moving—toward Amaya. Did she really think I'd fall for such cheap provocation? That I'd get riled up at her taunts and not notice her slipping closer to Amaya?

I'd already prepared for that.

A mirror shimmered into existence behind Amaya. In the blink of an eye, I pulled her through it, her body vanishing into the reflection and reappearing in my arms from another mirror beside me.

Her wide eyes blinked at me in surprise. Then they narrowed, her hand moving as it brushed my chest, fingers finding the wound still bleeding freely. "You're hurt, Edward."

"I know," I muttered. "Just stay still."

But Rulana… she had vanished, her form dissolving into a crimson mist that evaporated into the battlefield.

What was she planning now?

I scanned the chaos, eyes darting across the carnage until they landed on Lisandra. She was in the middle of a heated argument with Amae who was replying to her calmly while Sylvia was watching from behind.

Loud. Distracting. Typical.

"Huh?" I blinked when I noticed a little girl approach Lisandra from behind.

"Excuse me…" The girl's small voice reached out.

Lisandra frowned, her brows raising as she turned, her tone softening. "Are you okay—"

"Wait, Lisandra!" Sylvia's warning rang out, her hand shooting forward.

This idiot!

The ground cracked under my heel as I stomped forward, appearing in front of Lisandra just in time. The girl's hand flashed with great speed as she thrust straight for Lisandra's chest who was clearly caught off guard.

Steel struck my palm before it could pierce her. Pain flared instantly, the edge biting into my flesh, slicing deep and drawing a warm gush of blood. But I held it strong, halting the blade in place.

"...!!" Lisandra flinched slightly, but I didn't look at her. My eyes stayed locked on the girl.

Another child.

Was she amused doing that?

I looked down at her trembling form, her small face twisted by something unnatural, and a complicated heaviness settled in me.

"…I'm sorry." My voice was quiet as I reached out with my free hand, gently patting her head. Then I called upon Sloth.

Her body glowed faintly, her twisted expression softening into something peaceful. For a brief, fleeting moment, I saw her real self. A child's tear-streaked face, scared, broken, and crying silently for help.

Then the light faded, and so did her life.

I caught her small body before it could collapse, lowering her carefully to the ground. Her chest no longer rose, but her features were calm now—finally free.

I closed my eyes for just a moment. My chest rose and fell with ragged breaths. When I snapped my head back toward Amaya, my suspicion was confirmed.

Of course.

Rulana had predicted I would intervene.

She wasn't a fool. She must have noticed earlier—when I held back my strike against Lisandra—that I had shown the slightest sliver of concern for her. Maybe Lisandra hadn't truly been in danger; she was a Demigod, after all. But I had still acted, still thrown myself in front of her. Not only because of the slim chance Rulana would actually harm her… but because I knew what her real target would be.

Amaya.

If Rulana wanted to survive, if she wanted any way out of this battlefield, her only path was escape—and escape meant taking Amaya as a hostage.

And right on cue, Rulana's lips curled into a sly smirk. "We are leaving now!"

Her hand shot out toward Amaya's face—quick, precise. But instead of finding soft skin, her fingers plunged straight into a smooth, glassy surface.

"W–what?!"

The hand had pierced through a flawless mirror, one that blended seamlessly into the scenery. What she'd seen, what she'd reached for, had only been a reflection. The real Amaya was already gone, whisked away into safety the moment I had left her behind.

Rulana instinctively yanked her hand back, trying to leap away before the trap closed. But she wasn't quick enough. Amunet's Hands surged from the mirror, invisible force gripping her like chains. I yanked her forward, dragging her unwillingly through the glass until she came crashing toward me.

My fingers clamped around her throat the instant she emerged. With a savage motion, I slammed her into the ground.

-BAM!

The earth cracked beneath the impact, dust and shards of rock scattering outward. My grip tightened around her neck, knuckles pale as I squeezed with every ounce of strength I had left.

Rulana clawed at my arm, mana flaring around her in a violent storm. The air trembled, her aura pressing down with crushing intensity. In my current state, I could barely stand against her. If she truly wanted, she could end me right here.

But I wasn't aiming to kill her.

Instead, I called upon Sloth.

Silver particles drifted like ghostly motes, seeping into her body, infiltrating her veins. Rulana's eyes widened as she realized what was happening—her mana was being smothered, sealed away piece by piece.

She panicked. Blood erupted from her like a weapon, striking me in a sharp, burning wave. I wrapped myself in Ruah. It absorbed most of the impact, but not all. Searing cuts tore across my arms and chest, blood spilling freely.

She wasn't done. In desperation, Rulana conjured a sword, thrusting it straight toward my heart. But I caught the blade with my free hand. The edge bit deep, slicing through my palm, but I didn't let go. Instead, I squeezed harder around her throat, forcing her down into the dirt.

Her face flushed red, veins bulging, eyes rolling as her breath was crushed out of her. She thrashed, grunting.

"Y-You… ugh!"

But her struggles grew weaker. Her eyelids fluttered, her vision fading, and finally her body sagged.

Her mana was gone.

Completely sealed.

I released a harsh breath, sweat dripping from my temple. Sloth had done its job. Using it the moment I engaged her had been the only reason this worked.

Standing slowly, I dragged her limp form across the battlefield and flung her at the feet of the Olphean King. She landed in a heap before him.

"Do whatever you want with her," I muttered coldly, my voice hoarse. "Interrogate her, torture her… though I doubt she'll tell you anything."

"Yes… thanks," the Olphean King finally muttered, still looking stunned as he gave a stiff nod.

I let out a tired breath, my body sagging. "I'm really doing all the dirty work here," I grumbled under my breath before dropping onto the ground. I rested one arm over my knee, trying to ignore the throbbing pain tearing through me.

Two Blood Lords down by my hands. I didn't know if that was a blessing or a curse, but whatever—it was done. At least… at least she was safe.

My gaze drifted to Amaya who had settled beside me. She had pulled her knees close to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, her expression unreadable.

"What's with that face?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "Did she tell you something?"

Amaya's gaze wasn't on me. She was staring at nothing, lost in some faraway place. Her voice was low when she finally spoke.

"She said… it's my fate to die like all the previous Vampire Witches. That I'll only know pain and betrayal if I refuse to join the original witch."

I clicked my tongue, irritation bubbling in my chest. "Screw whoever keeps babbling about fate. I've heard enough of that crap to last me a lifetime."

But Amaya wasn't finished. She turned her head slightly, her crimson eyes glinting. "The last fifty-six Vampire Witches all died young. Except the original."

I raised a brow. "And why's that?"

Her shoulders tightened. "Different reasons. But none of us… were ever accepted."

For a moment, silence hung between us. I let out a slow breath, then shook my head. "Then be the first. Be the one who breaks that pattern. You'll live longer because you'll decide to. And as for acceptance…" I leaned toward her slightly. "I know exactly who you are, Amaya. And despite that, I'm still here. I do accept you. So stop worrying about whether anyone else does."

Her lips parted, but no words came out. She just looked at me for a long second before averting her gaze. Without another word, she reached for her glass flask—the one with Alicia's blood—and took a slow sip.

"You reckless idiot."

A rough hand suddenly ruffled through my hair, scratching my scalp. I glanced up to see Viessa looming over me.

"Show me your injuries," she ordered.

I sighed and let my body fall back against the ground. "You sure you want to see that mess?"

Her frown deepened, so I turned slightly, showing her the damage. My entire body was battered, but the worst wound gaped just below my chest, a deep gash still bleeding sluggishly.

Viessa grimaced. "How were you even able to move like this? You're suicidal, Edward."

A weak chuckle escaped me, though it quickly turned into a cough. "What choice did I have? The rest of your 'super team' of Heroes turned out to be completely useless." I cast a pointed glance at Cleara, the Olphean King, and the knights behind him. Their glares were sharp enough to kill if looks could.

Viessa sighed, exasperated. "Remove your shirt. First."

I propped myself up with effort and peeled off what was left of my shirt. Once white, it was now nothing more than a ragged red cloth soaked through with blood. I tossed it aside.

Gasps echoed around me.

I didn't need a mirror to know why. My bare chest and back were a patchwork of scars, cuts, burns, and fresh wounds layered over one another. It wasn't just ugly—it was a battlefield carved into my flesh.

"W–what happened to you…" Viessa's voice wavered, her hand trembling as she reached out, hesitant, toward my back.

I grimaced. "You're not about to cry, are you?"

Her eyes flashed with irritation as she glared down at me, masking whatever emotion had cracked through. Without another word, she set her hands against me and began healing. Her touch was firm, almost rough, but warm light spread through the wounds, knitting them slowly.

I stayed quiet, letting her work. My gaze wandered instead—and caught Lisandra and Sylvia watching me. Their eyes were wide, trembling with something I didn't quite understand. Lisandra's lips quivered, and tears were already trailing down her cheeks.

Why the heck was she crying…

I broke the silence, my voice cold. "If you're going to be useless anyway, just leave Sancta Vedelia. Don't stand in my way." My eyes flicked to Amael, then the other two.

Lisandra clenched her fists, her body trembling as she stepped closer. "W–why did you save me?"

"I didn't save you," I answered flatly. "I just baited that woman."

"N–no," she shook her head stubbornly, her voice breaking. "You… you really tried to protect me."

"Why the hell would I want to protect you in the first place?" I snapped back, glaring at her. "I told you—I was just baiting her."

"F–Fine! If that's what you want to say, then fine!" Her voice cracked. She spun around, wiping at her tears furiously before storming off.

I watched her go for a moment before turning my gaze away.

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