The Ancient Site of Castrum Kremnos, Edge of the Colossal Crater.
A howling wind swept across, stirring the unsettled dust, carrying a heavy, indescribable scent of char and the peculiar odor of cooled magma.
Mydei, the Crown Prince of Castrum Kremnos, stood frozen like a statue at the edge of the terrifying, two-kilometer-wide, bottomless chasm.
His face, usually as firm and resolute as steel, was now etched with a kind of blank bewilderment and a deep, inexpressible sense of being lost.
His gaze first dropped mechanically downwards—deep in the pit, that small, familiar figure (Phaethon) was huffing and puffing, wielding some tool as he diligently dug for something, completely oblivious to the apocalyptic surroundings.
Then, his gaze slowly lifted, sweeping with extreme slowness, almost sluggishly, across the entire vista of the Castrum Kremnos "homeland" within his sight.
As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but flat, scorched earth, twisted wreckage, and the silhouettes of collapsed buildings in the distance, as if gnawed upon by a giant beast.
All that was once familiar, every trace of home, had been almost completely erased.
His mind seemed to still be processing this overly impactful fact: he had only made two round trips through the Infinity Gates, which took maybe... thirty minutes in total? An hour at most!
And then...
Where's home?!
My enormous Castrum Kremnos—where the hell did it go?! Even if it was ruins, it was still the ancestral land that held countless memories and the history of his people!
Just... just gone? Transformed into this still-smoking giant pit and a blank slate?
This absurd level of "demolition" efficiency and thoroughness was indeed somewhat breathtaking. He didn't even know what expression to wear for a moment.
Deep Within the Crater.
Phaethon had no time to worry about the Crown Prince's complex emotional journey above. He was focused on wielding a specialized tool, carefully tapping and chipping away at a vast area of ground fused and solidified by extreme heat and pressure, now resembling obsidian, producing a series of *clink-clank* sounds.
"Found it!" His eyes lit up as he pried, with some effort, a section of twisted, deformed, and mostly missing strange metal wreckage from the vitrified material—the remains of "Skyfire 001."
He held it in his hands, carefully examining the horrifying state of wear and tear, the corner of his mouth twitching in pain.
"Tsk... Just as I thought, and this was only testing Mach 200. The force and heat generated at the moment of high-speed impact are indeed still too savage..."
He muttered to himself, sounding like an old craftsman mourning his tools. "If we increase the speed further, to Mach 500 or even higher... I'm afraid not even these remnants would survive. Everything would vaporize completely."
He sighed heavily, carefully storing the core remnant of "Skyfire 001," which had sustained over 50% wear.
*(Phaethon: Yes! Exactly! This version of Skyfire, launching one ridiculously awesome attack, doesn't require me to burn my lifespan, soul, or pay any irreversible price... sounds perfect, right?)*
*(But! What the hell is the cost?!)*
*(The cost is burning the "Skyfire" itself! Burning real money! Burning top-tier materials!!!)*
He desperately tried to console himself and engage in some positive mental reinforcement:
"Don't feel the pain, don't feel the pain... Out with the old, in with the new, right?"
He took a deep breath, as if convincing himself. "Look, didn't you just acquire... ahem, confiscate a highly intact Titan weapon, the「Blade of Fury」?
And those high-quality「Kremnoan Indigo Stones」you grabbed earlier! They're all valuable! A huge net gain!"
"Besides, launching an attack of this level doesn't require me to pay a heavy price in lifespan, health, or soul contracts. It only requires..."
His mental pep talk came to an abrupt halt as a cold number, uncontrollably, popped into his mind—that astronomical, liver-trembling cost.
Damn it! Can't even keep up the self-delusion!!!
Phaethon roared internally, the calm he was struggling to maintain on his face nearly crumbling.
Four million Balance Coins!!! A whole four million!!!
Piled up, that money could bury his scrawny self several times over! If he gave that money to that little miser Cipher, she wouldn't just come work as a cat-girl at the eatery; she'd probably cosplay as a cat-maid maid, pack herself up, and have herself delivered to his doorstep, complete with lifetime VIP after-sales service!!!
The mere thought of those glittering four million Balance Coins flying away on wings made Phaethon feel a sharp pang in his chest, worse than taking a direct hit from Nikador.
Clutching his chest, looking at the half-section of scrap metal in his hand, he felt his breathing become somewhat labored.
...
Phaethon finally climbed up from the edge of the fathomless giant crater. As he raised his head, he saw Mydei still standing like a stone sculpture by the pit's edge, though now accompanied by Tribbie.
Tribbie was on her tiptoes, earnestly patting Mydei's brawny arm, comforting him in her unique, somewhat childlike tone:
"There, there, Little Dei... Out with the old, in with the new, right? Look, now Castrum Kremnos... um, the Castrum Pit, is so spacious! No need for demolition if you want to build something new in the future. How great!"
Mydei's expression remained as tangled as a ball of yarn—grief, bewilderment, frustration, and a hint of speechlessness at the evaluation of "spacious."
Seeing Phaethon ascend, Mydei took a deep breath, suppressing all the complex emotions in his chest.
His gaze burned intensely as he stared at Phaethon, his voice carrying a barely perceptible tremor: "Phaethon, my country's... Nikador, that undying Titan... is truly... completely dead? This kind of... this degree of attack, can even an 'immortal body' not withstand it?"
Phaethon didn't answer immediately. His consciousness quietly sank into the depths of his mind, where a newly generated folder labeled [Nikador] resided.
Only then did Phaethon look up, meeting Mydei's gaze, and nodded affirmatively. "Yes. Nikador has indeed been killed by me."
Hearing this final verdict, Mydei's body swayed slightly. He then closed his eyes, as if finally shedding a heavy burden, yet also as if welcoming a kind of complete void. He needed time to digest it all.
Seeking to change the subject, Phaethon quickly glanced around. "By the way, where's Phainon? Why isn't he with you?" He tried to shift the focus away from the thoroughly dead Titan and the home-turned-crater.
However, Tribbie beside him immediately put her hands on her hips and began "lecturing" Phaethon, her anger palpable despite her short stature:
"Li-tt-le—Phae—thon!"
She drew out the syllables, her presence formidable even though she had to look up.