I always thought I was prepared to face a Demon General.
After everything we had lived through—living cities, impossible portals, monsters that should not exist—it seemed logical to believe this would be just another step. A greater challenge, yes, but still something we could overcome together.
I was wrong.
The final chamber of the dungeon was far too vast to be called a room. The ceiling vanished into darkness, covered in black ice stalactites, and the floor resembled a frozen lake that had never melted. Each step made the cold crawl up my legs, as if trying to enter my body.
At the center, above a throne carved from ancient ice, he waited for us.
The Sixth Demon General.
There was no haste in his posture. No urgency. He stood there like someone who knew time was on his side. His body was tall, encased in crystalline armor that reflected bluish light. Where there should have been warmth… there was silence. Where there should have been life… there was absolute control.
"So this is the bearer of the flame."
His voice did not echo. It simply appeared inside my head.
My flame reacted immediately. Not with fury. With fear.
Aelthryn stepped forward. The elven bow in his hands seemed far too small for the weight of that moment, yet his presence was overwhelming. I had never seen someone of that class fight seriously until now.
"General," Aelthryn said, with absolute calm. "Your advance ends here."
The demon tilted his head slightly.
"Interesting. An elf who still believes in endings."
The attack came without warning.
The air froze. Literally. The space between us became solid for an instant, and the front line of the alliance was hurled backward like dolls. I could barely breathe. Elara dropped to her knees almost immediately, her mana evaporating under the pressure. Vespera tried to fire an arrow and missed—not due to lack of skill, but because space itself distorted the trajectory.
Liriel raised her hands, trying to conjure light. The magic responded… weak. Limited. Useless.
"Takumi!" Vespera shouted. "He's crushing us without even moving!"
Aelthryn advanced alone.
The elf became a blur of green and silver. His arrows tore through the air, each one charged with ancestral energy. For the first time, the General had to move. The impact was so strong that the ice beneath cracked.
For a second… just one… I thought we had a chance.
Then the General raised his hand.
The world slowed.
The ice responded to his command like a loyal army. Spikes erupted from the floor, the ceiling, the walls. Aelthryn blocked three, four, five—until the sixth pierced his defense and hurled him into a column.
The impact made my heart sink in my chest.
"SS class…" the General murmured. "Interesting. But insufficient."
I charged.
I didn't think. I didn't calculate. I simply went.
The flame exploded around the blade, burning the ice, forcing a path open. For the first time, I felt real resistance. The General looked directly at me.
And smiled.
The clash between us was not an explosion. It was absolute silence. My blade did not pierce. It stopped. Caught.
The General held the sword between two fingers.
"You are not ready yet."
I was thrown backward with a force that knocked the air from my lungs. I rolled across the ground, feeling the cold invade my bones. When I tried to stand, my legs failed.
That was when I heard Aelthryn's voice.
"RETREAT!"
He was standing again, wounded, bleeding, but with eyes aflame. A gigantic arrow of energy formed behind him, fueled by everything he had left.
"NOW!"
It wasn't cowardice. It was survival.
Vespera grabbed my arm. Elara could barely walk; I carried her. Liriel cried silently, trying to maintain a minimal barrier. Other adventurers covered the retreat, falling one by one.
The General did not pursue us.
He merely watched.
When we reached the exit corridor, the dungeon began to collapse. Not from loss of control—but by decision. The ice sealed paths behind us, signing the defeat like a signature.
Outside, we fell into the snow, exhausted, broken, alive.
Aelthryn dropped to his knees beside me.
"That… wasn't the end," he said, breathing with difficulty. "It was a warning."
I nodded. The flame within me trembled, ashamed, furious… and determined.
High on the mountain, I sensed two presences.
Rai'kanna and Lyannis watched from a distance, silent. They did not intervene. Not because they didn't want to—but because they understood.
That battle was not meant to be won.
Not yet.
As the wind carried the snow away, the General's voice echoed one last time in my mind.
"Grow, bearer of the flame. I will be waiting."
I closed my eyes.
We lost.
But we survived.
And right there, I swore that when we returned… the ice would learn how to burn.