The Four Heroes.

Gattychan. Seraphelle. Mikazelle. Rindelle.

All lying unconscious or semi-conscious on the ground, protected by the golden barrier Valentine had created before fighting Seraphina.

Except...

The barrier was gone.

Satou’s Devouring had consumed Valentine completely, including the divine power maintaining the sanctuary. The golden shield had dissolved the moment Valentine ceased to exist, leaving the four heroes exposed and defenseless.

Satou turned toward them, his crimson Berserk aura flaring back to life, bloodlust rising as he recognized the threat they represented.

These were the heroes who’d been sent to kill Seraphina. Who’d wounded her badly enough that Valentine could have finished her. Who’d been part of the invasion force that had nearly destroyed his settlement.

They needed to die.

His enhanced perception assessed their condition as he began walking toward them:

Gattychan—unconscious, multiple critical wounds, mana completely exhausted from the Angelic Descent.

Seraphelle—barely conscious, cracked ribs, internal bleeding, trying and failing to move.

Mikazelle—unconscious, missing her left eye from Seraphina’s face strike, magical exhaustion so complete she couldn’t even twitch.

Rindelle—conscious but paralyzed, Seraphina’s tail-wound in her stomach still bleeding sluggishly, her face showing terror as she saw Satou approaching.

All four were helpless. Wounded. Defenseless.

Perfect.

Satou’s footsteps created small craters in the ground, his increased power making every movement heavier, more destructive. His bloodlust radiated outward in waves of crushing pressure that made the air itself feel thick and oppressive.

Rindelle, the only one conscious enough to perceive what was happening, felt the weight of that bloodlust settling on her like a physical thing. Her remaining mana was gone—burned away by the Angelic Descent that Valentine had forcibly ended. Her body was too damaged to move, the tail-wound in her stomach having caused catastrophic internal bleeding that only the angel’s power had been suppressing.

She tried to speak, tried to plead, tried to do anything—

But her vocal cords wouldn’t work. Terror had frozen her throat.

Satou stopped ten feet from the four fallen heroes, his flame-like eyes tracking across their broken forms with cold assessment.

Then he extended his right hand, and darkness coalesced around it.

[VOID FANG]

Existence-erasing energy formed into a blade—not a physical weapon, but pure cutting force that could unmake matter at a fundamental level. The darkness around his hand was absolute, a zone where light simply ceased to exist.

He raised the Void Fang blade, preparing to sweep it across all four heroes in a single strike that would erase them from reality completely.

No bodies to recover. No resurrection possible. Just... absence.

Rindelle watched the blade rise, knowing she was about to die, unable to do anything to prevent it—

Suddenly, brilliant white light erupted from the center of where the four heroes lay.

Not Valentine’s golden holy magic. Not divine power from any source Satou recognized.

This was pure, crystalline white—light that carried no divine authority, no holy blessing, but something else. Something that operated on entirely different principles.

[SPATIAL TELEPORTATION - EMERGENCY EXTRACTION]

Satou’s combat instincts screamed danger and he activated [SHADOW ABSOLUTE MOVEMENT] instantly, teleporting across the ten-foot distance to close with the heroes before whatever was happening could complete—

Too late.

The white light intensified to blinding levels, and Satou felt spatial magic activating—felt reality being torn open, felt a dimensional gateway forming beneath the four heroes.

He reached them just as the teleportation completed.

His Void Fang blade swept through the space where Gattychan’s neck had been a microsecond earlier.

Cut nothing but empty air.

The four heroes were gone. Vanished. Teleported away by emergency extraction magic that had activated the moment Valentine’s protective sanctuary had failed.

Satou stood alone in the empty space, his Void Fang blade still raised, his bloodlust still blazing, staring at the spot where his targets had been.

Gone.

The white light faded completely, leaving no trace of who had cast the teleportation or where the heroes had been taken.

Satou’s hand clenched around the Void Fang blade, frustration warring with tactical acceptance. The heroes had escaped.

They escaped. They’ll return. This isn’t over.

But dwelling on what couldn’t be changed was pointless. There were more immediate concerns.

He turned towards Seraphina’s unconscious form still resting where he’d positioned her. Even from this distance, his enhanced perception could assess her condition—the burns covering thirty percent of her body, the deep impact wounds, the complete magical exhaustion that had forced her demon lord form to dispel.

She was alive. Breathing. But she needed proper healing, not just the emergency stabilization her own demonic constitution provided.

Satou crossed the battlefield in seconds, his enhanced speed carrying him to her side. He knelt beside her unconscious form, taking in the full extent of her injuries up close.

Valentine did this. Nearly killed her. Would have killed her if I’d arrived even five minutes later.

The thought sent a fresh surge of cold fury through him, but he pushed it down. Valentine was dead. Consumed. The threat eliminated.

Right now, Seraphina needed him.

He lifted her carefully, one arm under her shoulders, the other under her knees, cradling her eight-foot demon lord form against his chest. Even unconscious, even depleted of all corruption magic, she still maintained her standard demon appearance—purple skin, pointed ears, the otherworldly beauty that marked her as something beyond human.

"I’ve got you," he murmured quietly, knowing she couldn’t hear but saying it anyway. "You’re safe now."

Then he activated [SHADOW ABSOLUTE MOVEMENT] and began teleporting back toward the settlement, covering ground in a series of instantaneous jumps, each one bringing him closer to where Jessica would be coordinating healing efforts.

—----

[THE SETTLEMENT - MEDICAL STATION]

The settlement’s medical station had been set up in one of the more intact buildings near the Third Line defensive fortifications. Jessica was there, her hands glowing with golden healing magic as she worked on a severely wounded orc warrior, her face showing the exhaustion of hours spent healing critical injuries.

Around her, other wounded defenders waited for treatment—goblins with missing limbs, serpentfolk with shattered scales, humans with deep sword wounds, demons with holy-fire burns.