Nil had already been at her limit long before fear killed her. When she created the chains to restrain Aeren, she poured everything she had into them. Those chains were not simple magic—they were a fusion of her Light and Dark spirits, a spell far too heavy for her body to sustain. The instant Aeren shattered them, the spell backfired violently. Nil felt the backlash tear through her magic core, shredding her connection to her spirits. But she did not stop. Even after losing most of her power, she still tried to protect Jarek. She forced her exhausted spirits to act again, pushed their dwindling life to shield him.
That final attempt cost her everything.
Both her spirits—Light and Dark—were pushed beyond their limit. When she attempted to save Jarek, her own magic collapsed completely. Her arms were left mangled from the recoil. And she had nothing left to heal herself. Still, she forced the last drops of magic out of her body. She tried to mend her wounds. She tried to stay alive.
But she lost everything in that moment—her magic, her strength, her spirits, her defense, her hope. And then Samarth—their last chance—lost his divinity. Or rather… Aeren crushed it. And with Samarth's defeat came the final blow—not physical, but emotional. Fear wrapped around Nil's heart and squeezed. Her mind shattered under the realisation.
She felt every agony she had endured—the backlash, the helplessness, the despair—all at once. And Nil died. Not from a wound, not from Aeren—but from everything inside her collapsing. Because the master of Dark and Light had died, her spirits died with her.
Her body fell beside Olivia.
THUD.
The sound snapped Olivia out of her spiraling fear for a moment. She turned her head slowly, almost mechanically. Nil lay there, unmoving. Blood seeped from every orifice of her face—eyes, nose, mouth, ears. Her skin pale. Her body still. Olivia blinked, dazed, then felt something wet sliding down her own cheek. She reached up with trembling fingers and touched her face. Her fingers came away red.
Blood.
Her heart clenched violently, as if a fist were squeezing it from the inside. A deep, suffocating unease filled her chest—unsettled, uncomfortable, wrong. Instinctively, she clutched her chest with one hand, gasping. Her body trembled. Her mind trembled.
"There's… nothing wrong. Calm down. Nothing is going to happen," Olivia whispered to herself, forcing the words out between trembling breaths.
They were lies. She knew they were lies. But they were the only thoughts she had left to cling to. She repeated them again and again, desperately trying to force her mind into believing something—anything—that might keep her from dying the same way Nil did.
But Nil's corpse lay right beside her—lifeless eyes staring into nothing, skin pale, magic gone. Olivia's heartbeat skyrocketed. Her chest tightened painfully. She clutched her heart with both hands, her face twisting into a grotesque mix of fear and anger. She glared at Aeren through watery eyes.
And every step Aeren took toward Samarth only made the crushing pressure around her grow heavier. More suffocating. More lethal.
"Ugh—!"
Olivia coughed and vomited blood, collapsing onto her knees. The metallic taste filled her mouth, and her vision blurred red around the edges. Around her, Samarth's begging echoed through the hall—pathetic, broken, desperate—yet no one moved to help him. No one even dared to stand.
Their legs trembled violently. Their bodies shook. Fear dominated every inch of the ruined hall. Olivia lay sprawled on the bloodstained floor, consciousness hanging by a thread.
"I… have to leave this place," she whispered, her voice barely audible. She forced her trembling hands onto the ground, dragging herself forward inch by inch. Her limbs felt heavy. The very gravity of the hall felt like it was increasing with every moment Aeren lived, every breath he took, every step he walked.
But she still crawled—slowly, painfully—trying to escape the suffocating pull of death that Aeren's presence created. She didn't dare look back at Aeren. She didn't dare look at Samarth.
She only moved. Because if she stopped…She knew she would die too.
***
A short distance from Olivia…
Emily lay collapsed on the ground, in almost the same condition. But slightly—slightly—better. Her breathing was heavy, ragged, and painfully loud in her own ears.
She could hear every tremor, every desperate inhale, every gasp that sounded like it might be her last. She was on the edge of losing consciousness—barely clinging to awareness by force of will alone.
Everyone else had already fainted. But Emily stayed awake for one reason: To protect her master. To protect Samarth from the monster walking toward him.
She tried—tried with everything she had—to push herself up. To stand. To move. But her body refused. Her limbs shook violently. Her muscles spasmed from fear. She could barely breathe, much less rise.
Her face twisted, looking as if she might break into sobs any moment—yet no tears fell. Instead, blood streamed from her eyes like crimson tears. Still, she refused to close them.
She forced her magic—every last drop—into keeping her vision clear. Into keeping her breath steady. Into staying conscious.
Her trembling hand stretched toward Aeren and Samarth—a pathetic, hopeless crawl. But her fingers couldn't move even an inch forward. She was stuck. Bleeding from her eyes. Desperate. Barely alive. And through the haze, she heard her master's voice—Samarth's broken begging echoing across the hall.
"P… ple…as… don't… kill… him…" Emily whispered, her voice nearly gone.
She tried to plead for her master's life, but no strength remained. Her body wouldn't move. Her voice was shattering. She could only watch. Helpless. Unable to reach them. And then—it happened.
Aeren finally reached Samarth.
Drip.
Drop.
A soft sound echoed through the ruined auction hall—Rain. Rain began falling through the broken ceiling, tapping against shattered marble and blood-soaked floors. The faint drip-drop filled the suffocating silence of fear.
Aeren stood over Samarth, looking down at him. His single remaining eye half-opened, heavy with exhaustion. He was losing blood fast. Barely holding on—But still standing. Still alive.
"Lord Heaven… please help me!" Samarth screamed, his voice breaking, loud enough to shake the very air. Lightning cracked across the sky in response—as if Heaven itself acknowledged his plea.
Aeren looked down at him, expression unreadable. And then—a voice echoed across existence. Not from the sky. Not from the hall. But from the Universe itself.
"HAHAHAHA… yes. This will do." The Cosmic Ocean answered. Aeren's smile widened slowly. This—this was the voice he had been waiting for.
The voice that confirmed the truth of his path. His half-closed eye snapped open, glowing with a light that cut through the rain-splattered hall. The Universe had called him. The Cosmos itself had acknowledged him. This was why he had targeted Samarth first. Not Jarek. Not Nil. Not anyone else.
Samarth's death was the trigger the Universe needed. Aeren raised his remaining hand.
"Hmm. What will you do, useless being?" he said quietly, almost tenderly—mocking both Samarth and the Cosmic Ocean at once.
He lifted his fist, ready to end Samarth's life with one final strike. Ready to provoke the cosmic force that hovered just beyond the veil of reality.
Aeren needed to see the Cosmic Ocean up close. He had glimpsed it once before during a pause in reality or nothingness—something beyond the Universe, beyond existence. But two things had blocked his path:
The Universe itself.
And
The Heart of Loneliness beating in his chest.
If he died now, without seeing it again, he would never reach that place. He could not allow that.
Aeren's fist descended.
BAM—!
His punch shattered the ground, sending a shockwave through the ruins—but Samarth was no longer there. He had vanished. The earth trembled—but the sky trembled harder. Not from Aeren's punch.
From welcome.
A crackling roar spread across the heavens as the universe rejoiced. A surge of cosmic light washed down, shaking the ruined hall.
In a burst of impossible radiance—the Universe expressed pure happiness. Bodies that had died in the auction hall reformed, gasping back to life. Those who still had something left to heal were healed.
But those broken beyond repair—those crushed by Aeren's hands—remained dead. Nil did not return. Her spirits were gone. Her life had ended with fear itself. Olivia revived, but trembling, pale, barely breathing.
Aeren ignored all of it. He looked forward—and saw Samarth. No—what was wearing Samarth's body. Samarth stood upright, but there was no trace of the man anymore. No fear. No pain. No pleas.
Just emptiness.
His eyes glowed like twin galaxies—shining with the cold, vast brilliance of the Cosmic Ocean. Aeren's lips curled upward. He stepped forward, standing across from the cosmic-possessed Samarth. And for the first time in the entire battle—Aeren felt something like relief.
The Universe had descended. The Cosmic Ocean had answered him.
This is the true beginning.