“Si… Sienna?”

Molon’s voice cracked and broke off in a series of coughs following his initial shock.

As he stuttered out the name, Sienna furrowed her brow and chided him, “It’s not like you’ve never seen me before. Why do you look so surprised to see me?”

“How did you…?” Molon began asking but stopped.

Molon had heard about Sienna’s recent whereabouts from Anise.

Sienna had been in the form of a large, unopened flower bud for a year. It was a transformation meant to help her ascend to a divine realm of magic. She had been under the guidance of the Sage of the Ivory Tower, Vishur Laviola, who could be called the persona of the World Tree. However, these details were trivial to Molon.

What mattered to Molon was that Sienna had been an unopened flower bud and would someday bloom in the divine realm of magic.

“Oh,” Molon uttered as realization dawned on him.

The fact that Sienna was here could only mean one thing. Molon’s eyes widened with shock, and his shoulders trembled.

Yes, Sienna had finally blossomed and emerged into the world after a year. This meant she had achieved her aspiration of reaching the divine realm of magic. She had undergone a metamorphosis from a human to a higher existence. Molon couldn’t help but feel a thrill deep in his heart.

“Sienna!” Molon shouted with his arms wide open.

He wanted to embrace her and share this overwhelming emotion and excitement. However, just as he was about to wrap his arms around her, Sienna’s figure seemed to sink into the ground and disappeared.

He heard Sienna’s voice complaining, “Why are you acting like this? It’s creepy.”

Suddenly, Sienna was beside him. She slapped Molon’s shoulder and rolled her eyes while Molon blinked dumbfoundedly. He could not understand how Sienna had suddenly vanished and reappeared.

“Good grief,” Sienna said, glancing at Molon, who was blinking in confusion. She then crossed her arms and turned her gaze toward the dueling ground.

“He’s fighting like an idiot once again. I wonder if he’ll ever learn the lesson without dying once more,” Sienna grumbled while shaking her head in annoyance.

If it weren’t a duel, she would have joined in immediately. But for now, she put aside her petty annoyance with Eugene, who had recklessly arranged the duel and focused on other elements in the arena.

Gavid Lindman.

She didn’t contemplate how strong she had gotten. She wouldn’t be the one to deal with his power anyway, and she didn’t entertain the slightest thought that it might come down to her turn.

If it were her turn, it would mean Eugene had been defeated and killed, which she naturally needn’t even consider.

Noir Giabella lay obliquely in the air. She was facing the dueling ground, which meant her face wasn’t visible.

‘Bitch.’

The moment Sienna thought this, Noir turned her head towards her. Despite the distance, Sienna and Noir’s gazes met. Sienna felt an attempt at an invasion of her space, which she scoffed at and brushed away. Yet, Noir showed no sign of disappointment. She merely waved her hand flirtatiously with a seductive smile.

‘She was no ordinary bitch or monster even before, but now…’ Sienna thought with a click of her tongue and turned away.

She could see the Demon King of Incarceration. He was likely aware of her presence but showed no sign of acknowledgment, his attention fixed on the dueling ground.

She observed the authority of Incarceration enveloping the arena and compared it momentarily with her own magic. She came to the conclusion that it was pointless to compare them at this time. Sienna pursed her lips in a pout.

“Will you watch from here?” Carmen asked her while approaching from behind.

Her appearance hadn’t changed much from a year ago, but the change in her power was profoundly palpable to Molon. She was incomparably powerful compared to the Knight March, and her skills had evidently improved from before.

“There’s no need to stand here when perfectly good seats are available,” responded Sienna.

She extended her hand toward Molon, but he shook his head without taking it.

“I can see fine from here,” responded Molon.

“Because of the Nur? You managed to leave the mountain for a while during the Knight March a few years ago,” said Sienna.

“Things are different from back then,” Molon replied with a wry smile.

Indeed, a few years ago, it had been fine for him to leave the mountain for a brief period. But recently, the Nur had been appearing so frequently that he couldn’t leave. They would appear suddenly without warning, sometimes dozens at a time, and several times a day.

“It’s alright,” assured Sienna.

“What do you mean it’s alright?” questioned Molon.

“No Nur will appear for about half a day,” said Sienna before stretching out her hand.

The air parted, and a staff appeared.

Mary.

The Sage’s beloved staff, now fused with Frost, had transformed into a new form — a staff adorned with pristine snowflakes. The moment Sienna grasped it, a burst of light sparked and melted into the entirety of Lehainjar.

Molon looked around in surprise. Though he was ignorant about magic, he could feel that Sienna had done something. He inspected Lehainjar with his bright eyes and let out a sound of admiration.

“I’ve closed the gate,” said Sienna.

She set down Mary before reaching out to Carmen and Molon.

“Half a day should be enough for this foolish and terrible duel to end. When Eugene wins, shouldn’t we be the first to go and pat him on the back for his efforts?” said Sienna.

“Hahaha!” Molon laughed as he took Sienna’s hand. “Indeed, you’re right. While we can watch the duel from here, the thrill of victory can only be truly felt there. If Hamel wins, I’ll lift him high into the sky in celebration,” he declared.

“I will shout the glorious name of the Radiant Eugene Lionheart by your side, Sir Molon,” Carmen chimed in with a warm smile.

The two took Sienna’s hands, and just like that, the trio disappeared. Molon didn’t even feel the sensation of being swept up in magic. Such was the swiftness and perfection of Sienna’s spell.

The moment they arrived in the stands, the smell of blood overpowered their smell.

Then it was gone.

They looked down at the dueling ground.

Eugene’s leg had just been severed, and blood gushed out. But he paid it no heed and pressed forward. The severed leg returned, and the blood vanished. He swung Levantein relentlessly, but it was blocked in its tracks. Gavid’s demonic sword skillfully redirected the flames of Levantein, briefly withstood the brunt of Eugene’s blade, and redirected it again.

Eugene’s blade seemed to bend. It appeared to twist under the force, yet Eugene did not lessen his power or halt his assault. He modulated the cascading energy, and the flames spiraled around him. The flames rotated rapidly as he continued his slashes towards Gavid.

This was unstoppable, and Gavid could not redirect it. Realizing this, Gavid pushed forward instead of creating distance. He chose to meet the attack head-on at minimal range rather than a futile attempt to escape.

He sacrificed his left arm. It was severed and immediately consumed by fire, turning to ash from the forearm up. Levantein’s blade was such that even a slight graze could incinerate flesh instantly.

‘Is that so,’ Gavid thought resolutely.

Before the flames could climb to his shoulder, Gavid cut off his own arm.

‘The blade isn’t complete yet,’ he surmised.

This sudden realization was terrifying for Gavid. Even now, Levantein had the potential to turn the world into a sea of flames if Eugene willed it. Yet, the blade was still not complete.

Eugene’s aim was not to create a sword that would set the world ablaze but one that could kill Demon Kings. Once it was completed, Levantein would be a blade that would render the immortality of demons and Demon Kings moot.

Gavid closed the distance after sacrificing his left arm. He was already targeting Eugene with his demonic sword. Eugene’s left arm was caught in the strike. It sliced through skin, muscle, and bone, severing the arm cleanly.

‘This isn’t a human fight,’ Gavid observed.

The fight would have ended long ago if Gavid had been against a human, but Eugene was no longer human. Mere cuts wouldn’t reach his life. Could he be killed with a decapitation? Surprisingly, Gavid wasn’t even sure of that.

Still, he could not stop wielding his blade. This duel would not end until one of them died. Gavid’s intent to kill was embedded in the blade, the same blade that had killed Agaroth — the blade that had slain the War God.

Eugene had to admit it. Gavid’s sword had long since surpassed Eugene’s imagination. Eugene needed to break Gavid’s blade to kill him. It meant he had to surpass Agaroth, who had once reigned as the God of War.

But that was what Eugene desired anyway. If he failed to surpass Agaroth’s powers, he could kill neither the Demon King of Incarceration nor the Demon King of Destruction.

Eugene felt awe at Gavid’s ability to hone his blade to such a caliber. He recognized Gavid beyond him simply being a demon or an enemy.

How many deaths had he witnessed to reach such a level? How often had he swung his sword?

“But it’s not just you,” Eugene declared.

He acknowledged Gavid’s efforts wholeheartedly. But that was it — because Eugene was desperate as well. The time Eugene spent in the buried city had been horrifying and brutal, too. He had engaged in lengthy contemplation beneath ruins and fallen idols, where not even corpses remained.

Eugene Lionheart and Hamel Dynas — he revisited everything about them. He recalled the forgotten memories of Agaroth and cycled through all that once was.

Thus, he reached a state of nothingness. Eugene did not distinguish between himself, Hamel, or Agaroth. He intertwined all that he was or had been into one. Yet, it was still not enough. No matter how much more he added, it felt insufficient.

In an insatiable longing, he moved. He swung his sword and ignited his flames. He poured out all he had, then emptied himself and thought again.

What was he lacking? What more did he need to be filled?

He had crossed extremes time and time again. But now, there were no extremes left to cross. He came to a natural understanding.

‘This is my end.’

He had already arrived at the final station of his human existence. Transcendence began only after crossing this station. At that point, Eugene felt both emptiness and rage.

This could not be the end. There was still more to overcome, more to destroy. If this were the end, he could not reach the level of his adversaries.

It was with this thought that Eugene saw the ruins of a city and the shattered statue of Agaroth. He recalled Agaroth in that barren wasteland as he commanded death to all gods.

Despite his desire to flee, the proud God of War had obstructed the Demon King of Destruction. What had pushed Agaroth’s back?

—Brilliant.

It was because of the voices.

He was pushed by the voices of the devotees, the voices of faith, and those who did not wish for destruction. He was raised by the voices that were hoping for peace today and happiness tomorrow.

—Hero.

The desolate ruins and the deaths of his followers amidst despair and agony were a testament to Agaroth’s failure.

The ruins and the broken statue were evidence of Agaroth’s defeat.

At that moment, Eugene, as Agaroth, despaired. The God of War had sacrificed his life to stall the Demon King of Destruction. His delay had allowed the Sage to become the World Tree and other gods, including the God of Giants, to prepare for what was to come.

Yet, the world had ultimately been destroyed, and all the devotees had died. To promise a future essentially meant to abandon and relinquish the present.

‘To hell with it,’ Eugene decided.

He had no intention of abandoning the present. He was different from Gavid. Gavid had abandoned his title as the Duke of Helmuth, the Blade of Incarceration, the Demoneye of Divine Glory, Glory, and filled his sword with desire and belligerence.

But Eugene could not do that. He, Eugene Lionheart, the Hero, must not forsake anything. He must embrace it all and add more.

“Eugene Lionheart.”

Now, the world’s wishes reached Eugene’s ears. This duel was being broadcast worldwide. Everyone on the continent was watching his fight.

It was a brutal fight, with limbs and guts flying — a sight not for children, yet even a child would be watching.

It was unavoidable. This duel, without exaggeration, involved the fate of the world. If Eugene were to die, the Demon King of Incarceration would immediately invade the continent. Countless lives depended on Eugene.

“To victory.”

He heard the wish. He needed to respond. He could not discard it. Though it was embarrassing to admit, right now, Eugene wanted to save the world. Therefore, he could not afford to lose.

‘It’s heavy,’ Gavid realized the change.

The demonic sword wavered. Gavid gripped it tightly, stabilizing its tremor with a force that shook his very being.

‘So it is. Hamel, your sword has…’

Gavid staggered back along with his sword. A gap between the two was formed and quickly filled with flames. The massive, heavy flames pushed Gavid even further back. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

‘All the hopes of humanity embedded in it.’

Eugene’s sword contained the longing for victory, the desire for today’s peace and tomorrow’s happiness. Such hopes made his sword unbearably heavy. To overcome this sword meant that Gavid would be taking the future of the continent into his own hands. He would be the one to decide its fate.

He didn’t care. Gavid was determined to win today’s duel. He would end three hundred years of simmering inferiority by not merely sipping but draining the celebratory cup, and then he would lead the demon forces to invade the continent. The fate of the continent was not his concern. His only desire was for victory today.

“Aaaah!”

Both screamed simultaneously. The swords, one forged from relinquishment and the other from aspirations, clashed. Though different in make, their tenacity was the same.

Yet, something was lacking.

Despair was lacking. Gavid’s tenacity, longing, and inferiority fell short of the despair that Eugene possessed. Eugene knew the end of the world. He turned his despair into determination, not to end today but to save the world.

It might have sounded cliché and predictable, but the hero was a symbol of hope.

Whoosh.

Flames blossomed in Eugene’s left hand.

He turned the wishes in his ears, the prayers for victory and hope for tomorrow, into fuel for the myth he was writing. As the swords clashed and recoiled, Gavid grasped his demonic sword with both hands, and Eugene let the myth in his left hand flow into Levantein.

Fwoosh!

Violent flames engulfed the glass blade of Levantein. Every flame of the White Flame Formula resonated with Levantein. The Sanctuary of Prominence overlaid all miracles on Levantein.

Thus, Levantein became a miracle.

Hundreds of years of life.

Devotion to the sword.

The repeated trips to the barren wasteland.

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A sword that surpassed the God of War, a blade of god-slaying.

A rank reached by discarding the old and embracing the new.

The obsession with victory.

Eugene had to admit it. It was undeniable. Gavid Lindman was formidable. He was strong. He had transcended demons, even surpassed Demon Kings, and ascended to the ultimate mastery of the sword.

However, there was a simple, critical flaw.

The world’s wishes, hopes, and miracles proved stronger than Gavid’s sword.