Inside Shizu's mind, in the midst of endless darkness, the Demon King rests upon a throne made of dried blood and skulls. His name is Phaul Lucius. With his hand on his chin and his gaze fixed on a pool of blood before him — where Shizu's distorted image flickers like a living reflection — he questions himself in silence.
— It makes no sense… — he murmurs, his voice echoing through the whispers of the abyss. — That boy's arrival in this world, the attack against Babadar… and my awakening. Maybe I'm imagining things, but this is all far too suspicious. The pieces are moving too quickly. I shouldn't have awakened yet. And much less should this weak vessel be capable of leading a revolution out of nowhere…
Phaul slowly leans forward, approaching the pool. The red glow illuminates his face, revealing an expression of doubt and irritation.
— Why did I wake up so early? — he continues, in a lower tone. — Why does this boy act as if he has already lived through this war? Why is everything happening so fast… and so unnaturally forced?
Silence becomes absolute.The pool of blood begins to bubble, projecting Shizu's face.The Demon King, now with a sharp and penetrating stare, whispers the final question as if the darkness itself were listening.
— Who are you… Shizu Mark?
On the battlefield, the sound of destruction spread everywhere. Babadar, surrounded by her pulsing purple aura, landed hard on the ground after a high leap. As soon as her feet touched the earth, she spun her war hammer and dashed toward Anin with brutal speed.
Anin ducked at the exact moment the devastating strike passed over her. Taking advantage of the opening, she lifted her sword and unleashed a slash charged with dark aura.
— Frontal Slash!
Babadar dodged to the right, narrowly avoiding the blade. But before she could regain balance, Laura appeared above, surprising her with a colossal rotating fire sphere held between her hands.
— Flaming Sphere!
Babadar looked at the attack that would crash onto her in seconds. Her fingers tightened around the hammer's handle; her arms tensed, muscles swelling as her aura exploded outward in a purple pulse. At the instant the fireball would hit her, she swung her hammer in a perfect arc, colliding with Laura's technique.
The resulting explosion consumed everything around them. Violent winds swept across the field, raising dust and embers.
Laura shielded her face with her arm.
— If that didn't hurt you… then I'll just have to start putting more effort into the next attacks.
As the smoke began to clear, silence fell for a brief moment.
Through the flames, Babadar walked slowly. She dragged her hammer across the ground, her piercing gaze fixed on the two of them. There wasn't a single scratch on her. No burns. No sign of impact.
Then, with a cold voice, she asked:
— Was that little flame supposed to hurt me?
Carlius pushed himself up with difficulty, his entire body burning with pain. The smell of blood and dust suffocated him. As he looked around, his face twisted in horror — everything was destroyed, and he… he was powerless. Without his right arm, cut and poorly bandaged after being crushed by the tyrant, he collapsed to his knees.
The cold ground received him as he hit his hand against it, frustrated, feeling useless.
But then… something held his hand.
Carlius widened his eyes in surprise. He looked down — Anistina, lying on the ground, had extended her weak arm, holding his hand as if it were her last anchor.
She lifted her head with effort, her voice breaking as blood slid down her lips.
— Ca… Carlius… you still… still can fight… (urgh…) — If you can still stand… then fight… fight for the good of the people… for everyone that tyrant has hurt…
She breathed heavily, her eyes trembling.
— Fight… fight for me…
Her words cut through Carlius like a blade. He squeezed her hand, desperate.
— But… but I'm not strong enough…! I couldn't even protect you! What am I supposed to do?… What do I do, Miss Anistina?!
Trembling, Anistina tried to stand. The open wound in her stomach spilled blood uncontrollably, but she insisted, leaning on Carlius' shoulder. He tried to stop her:
— N-no! Don't move like that! You'll bleed even more!
But before he could continue, a sharp sound echoed.
TAP.
Anistina had slapped him.
With a serious expression, her eyes firm despite the pain, she grabbed the collar of his shirt.
— Don't give up! — her voice cut through the air — Be strong! — No matter how difficult this battle is… no matter how much you think you failed to protect me…
She took a deep breath, blood dripping down her chin.
— Now is the time. The time to protect those two… and everyone out there waiting for us.
Carlius froze, speechless.
Anistina, nearly out of strength, stared directly into his eyes.
— Don't give up… please… If there is still any strength left in you… fight. — Fight like you've never fought before…
She smiled faintly, even weak.
— If a fifteen-year-old boy led an entire revolution… then you, too, can defeat that tyrant.
Carlius' chest tightened. That… that reignited something inside him.His eyes filled with emotion and admiration.
He laid her down carefully, seating her on the ruined ground.He grabbed his massive sword firmly, his gaze resolute.
— Very well, my lady… I will bring us victory. For all of us. And when everything is over… I'll come back here. We're going to celebrate together.
He took a deep breath.
— So… hold on!
Carlius ran, sword on his back, determination burning in his eyes.
Anistina watched him leave… and as she saw him disappear into the chaos, her mind was pulled back, to memories she had tried to forget long ago.
FLASHBACK
The garden inside Babadar's castle was quiet that afternoon. Red roses stood in rows, vibrant and beautiful.Anistina observed one of them with a neutral expression, lost in thought.
— Hey, you there! — a voice called.A tall man, simple armor, a huge sword on his back. A guard.— You… aren't you the tyrant's third commander?! What are you doing here alone? Aren't you afraid someone might ambush you?
She looked him up and down, expressionless."Is he stupid? Or just very foolish?…"
Placing her hand on the sword's hilt, she replied coldly:
— And since when would a commander feel fear? Do you really think someone would dare ambush me here? — Know your place before speaking to me.
The man swallowed hard.
— S-S-Sorry, commander! I just thought I'd try talking…
She only sighed, unwilling to prolong it.
— You are forgiven. Now leave.
But he stepped closer again.
— Do you like flowers?
Anistina looked at the rose.
— I don't like nor dislike them. I simply observe them. I find them beautiful… because of this red color. Even among many, they stand out. They're not easily hated.
The man smiled lightly and touched one of the roses.
— If they catch your attention for being beautiful… maybe you like them more than you think.
She stayed silent. Then murmured:
— If we were flowers… flowers that hurt and kill innocent flowers… would we still be beautiful? Even with petals stained this red… a red that never washes off?
The guard answered with a calm smile, looking at her hair blowing in the wind.
— Flowers are flowers. Even stained, they don't stop being what they are. If they hurt others… then they had a reason. Nothing is done without reason.He looked at the rose.— And even if they had committed atrocities… I would still love them. Because I love flowers.
Anistina slowly turned, confused and touched.
"He… would still love them? Even stained?… Could it be that… I also…?"
She stepped closer.
— So you mean that… even with red petals… they can still be saved?
— I believe so — he answered, smiling warmly. — A flower doesn't stop being a flower just because its color changes.
Something inside her cracked — and rebuilt itself.Tears streamed down silently.
The guard hugged her gently.
— So… there is still salvation? — she whispered, barely believing.
She took a deep breath, wiping her tears.
— What… what is your name?
He smiled firmly.
— I am Carlius Adelgran.
Back in that disastrous reality, Anistina watched Carlius run off, the sword on his back, more determined than ever. The pain still burned in her stomach, blood continued to pour… but for the first time in a long while, a genuine smile appeared on her face.
She let out a weak laugh, almost a sigh, letting her body relax for a moment.
— Carlius… you fool.