The frozen attack of the summoned creature hung in the air like a falling star suddenly turned to ice.

Tesetan could only stare blankly at the King of the Dead’s next movements.

"No, no. The blood...!"

All attacks that had been raining down on Tesetan came to a halt.

The King of the Dead broke through the ranks of skeletons and ran toward him.

His steps were so hurried that he could trip over a stone and fall at any moment.

Tesetan held his breath.

He understood it instinctively.

At that moment, the King of the Dead was not running to kill him.

His face was twisted with fear.

There was anxiety in his eyes.

'But why?'

It was strange.

That strike just now had been the perfect opportunity to end the duel.

One of the few chances he could have won.

And he gave it up himself?

Showing weakness in front of an enemy?

Tesetan’s thoughts did not last long.

Unlike the King of the Dead, he knew exactly what he had to do.

He lowered the hand he had raised for defense.

And slowly rotated his wrist, tightening his grip on the sword.

"You’ve lost your mind."

Then he rushed forward toward the King of the Dead, who was openly exposing his vital points.

His refined second strike activated.

KUGAAAAAAN—!

Second strike—Merged Blade.

A blow where holy energy and mana explode simultaneously, delivering lethal damage.

"...Ah!"

Just as expected, his strike was stopped by the barrier surrounding the King of the Dead.

But that did not mean it was useless.

The shockwave from the slash pierced through the barrier and fully transmitted inside.

The King of the Dead was thrown into the air.

Flung away, he crashed heavily onto the gathered skeletons.

Several of them shattered, and the King of the Dead’s body rolled across the ground.

The members of Agavert watched in silence.

Tesetan, breathing heavily, also looked at the fallen King of the Dead.

Did he lose consciousness?

If so, the disguise should have disappeared.

Why wasn’t his appearance changing?

Did he overextend the strike?

Or did the wound worsen the bleeding?

The further his thoughts went, the paler Tesetan’s face became.

"What are you doing! You said a duel is a fight of honor! You bastard, you filthy bastard, I’ll kill you—!"

One of the King of the Dead’s subordinates shouted from afar.

If not for an Association officer blocking him, he would have already reached Tesetan.

'A fight of honor...'

The echo of that voice rang in his ears.

Yes.

That was true.

A duel is a fight of honor.

Blows capable of killing the opponent should be restrained when possible.

That is how a swordsman should fight.

If he has honor.

But he—

For some reason, his hand began to tremble.

'I have no honor.'

The knight he once was had long since died.

No—he had fallen even deeper, into the darkest abyss that existed in this world.

'Do whatever you want.'

The voice dragging him back into his past hell echoed again.

A drop of sweat ran down his forehead into his eye, stinging.

'You devoured your own mother—so do whatever you want.'

The mana and holy energy in his sword flared violently.

As if the very power spoke to him:

'Defective piece. Filth that sent an innocent mother to hell. And didn’t even have the courage to die—a useless wretch.'

Tesetan lifted his clouded gaze.

In the distance, he saw silhouettes.

Valentis Luminel.

And Leonardo Luminel.

The family he had deliberately kept his distance from.

'And now... of all times...'

Why was he meeting his father and brother again today?

Tesetan had never expected luck from life.

He only wanted a little.

No—even less than others. Just once, by chance, to feel happiness.

But chance had always been cruel to him.

Not luck—only cruelty, like today.

His heart pounded wildly. Breathing did not help.

In the next moment, something hot surged up from his throat.

"G-Squad Leader!"

The commanders shouted as dark red blood spilled out.

But Tesetan, as if observing someone else’s blood, calmly thought:

'Why am I coughing up blood?'

A dreadful realization crept in.

'Could it be...'

The King of the Dead was strong.

Strong enough to block his strike with just a barrier.

And that barrier was made of pure mana.

And his attack?

Merged Blade—a compressed, unstable force of mana and holy energy.

Like cracked glass.

"Damn..."

A short curse slipped from his lips.

Tesetan released the sword from his hand.

It was not a mistake.

Something was definitely wrong.

His heart beat irregularly, and the pain grew unbearable.

At this rate, the duel no longer mattered.

He raised his head.

Spitting out the blood filling his mouth, he muttered:

"Enough. Leave."

The two summoned beings of the King of the Dead looked at him.

"Take him. Quickly."

He knew perfectly well what the rising pulse in his chest would lead to.

He had experienced it once before.

He turned to the members of Tregava.

"Leave this place. That’s an order."

This pulse could not be stopped.

It was a cursed power that had once even evaporated a saint who possessed immense holy energy.

"Squad Leader, don’t tell me—"

"Didn’t you hear me?! I said leave!"

He completely lost control.

Not daring to look toward the Luminel family, Tesetan shouted:

"That’s an order! If you don’t want to die, get out—all of you!"

An unbearable pressure crushed his head, blood vessels burst in his eyes, and the world turned red.

The balance between holy energy and mana was collapsing.

He had always ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) known this would happen one day.

But why now...?

"If you stay, all of you, kh—!"

Tesetan staggered.

Sounds began to fade.

To keep from falling, he drove his sword into the ground.

Breathing heavily, he formed a weak barrier around himself.

A pitiful barrier, but better than nothing.

If luck held, at least a few people at a distance might survive.

THUMP—THUMP—THUMP—

Feeling his heart pounding harder and harder, Tesetan lifted his head.

In the distance lay the King of the Dead, as if lifeless.

"Damn..."

He still looked like a child.

'Bad sign...'

In truth, Tesetan had already lost from the beginning.

The King of the Dead’s mana had shattered his “balance,” which had remained intact since the day he lost his mother.

That meant, from the start, the King of the Dead was far stronger than him.

So much stronger that they could not even be compared.

Tesetan let out a hollow laugh.

Once again, everything had happened because of his own foolishness.

A moment from earlier came to mind.

When the King of the Dead could have killed him—but didn’t.

And the expression on his face as he ran toward him resurfaced as well.

No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t understand.

Why had he shown him such kindness?

Why had he looked at him like that?

When Tesetan himself, the moment he saw an opening, had not hesitated even for a second.

The raging force inside him whispered:

'You’re trash.'

Bleeding, Tesetan smiled faintly.

The power was right.

He was trash.

The most disgusting kind of trash in the world.

He had trampled on the mercy given to him and, without hesitation, had intended to drive his blade into the King of the Dead’s throat.

Was this his punishment?

"Hah..."

His abdomen twisted.

His organs clenched, his eyes throbbed with pain.

The ground beneath his feet cracked with a sharp sound.

That meant the mana had completely gone out of control and begun to burst outward.

Tesetan deliberately gripped the blade of his sword with his hand.

Otherwise, he would lose consciousness from the pain.

In the next moment, a roaring crash engulfed the ruins.

His insides collapsed, pain tearing through his body.

It felt as if every muscle were being carved out one by one with a sharp blade.

The world turned white, his breath caught in his throat.

And in that moment—

"...pa!"

The world swayed, and someone hastily pulled the blade from his hand.

When he opened his eyes, through blurred vision, he saw the doubled face of the King of the Dead.

"Don’t... don’t go! Don’t go!"

The King of the Dead broke through his barrier and wrapped his arms around his neck.

"Waa... Tie is at fault..."

"..."

"Please don’t leave Tie alone!"

At that very moment, the pressure crushing Tesetan eased.

He lowered his gaze.

The raging force began to recede.

As if something were returning to its rightful place.

As if a river were flowing from above downwards—

toward the King of the Dead.