The air trembled over the battlefield. The earth lay buried beneath a mixture of mud, blood, and fragments of battered armor; the stench of iron mingled with choking smoke and the lingering trace of incinerated mana.
Amid the mountain of corpses, Arnos struggled to his feet. His golden armor lay shattered, one shoulder plate split in half, a trail of blood running down his face. Though he was breathing heavily, his grip on his sword never loosened.
In front of him, a young Douglas soldier desperately tried to crawl away. Arnos seized him by the neck and hauled him off the ground without mercy.
—Lusian! —His voice tore through the roar of battle.— Look at him!
He pressed the edge of his sword against the young man's throat.
—If you don't surrender now, they will all die!
Lusian stopped dead. He looked at the recruit, then fixed his eyes on Arnos.
—Is this the justice you believe in?
Arnos gritted his teeth, blinded by desperation.
—It's the only thing I have left.
—Threatening a man who lies defeated and defenseless... —Lusian began walking toward him with steady steps.— That's not justice.
—Shut up!
Arnos threw the soldier aside and charged. His sword came crashing down in a savage slash capable of cleaving through a steel shield. Lusian dodged at the last instant; the blade struck the ground, sending a dense cloud of dust into the air.
Arnos immediately spun and thrust again. Lusian deflected the attack with composure. He attacked once more, and the duke dodged again. When Arnos came at him a third time, Lusian stepped forward. The hero's sword barely grazed his shoulder, but the duke answered with a surgical slash that tore through a section of his opponent's golden breastplate.
Arnos staggered backward.
—Is that all you've got? —Lusian taunted.
—No!
Arnos roared and charged again. He no longer fought with the polished elegance he had once possessed. His movements had become heavy, abrupt, and chaotic, but that was precisely what made them unpredictable. He feinted clumsiness, changed the angle of his blade midway through an attack, and struck even when he appeared to have lost his balance.
A thrust grazed Lusian's cheek, leaving a thin red line from which fresh blood began to flow.
Arnos flashed a crazed smile.
—I have you.
Lusian wiped his cheek with the back of his thumb.
—No. —His gaze remained unwavering.— At least now you're actually fighting.
Arnos charged once more, and steel collided.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Each impact sent a dull vibration through their arms. Arnos lacked the energy to sustain such a frenzy, but he refused to yield.
—The gods chose me! —He brought down another slash, which Lusian blocked head-on.— They gave me this power! —He struck again, forcing the duke a step backward.— They entrusted me with the lives of thousands!
Arnos raised his sword above his head with both hands.
—I am their will!
Lusian met his gaze calmly.
—No.
Arnos's greatsword came crashing down, but Lusian did not retreat. He stepped forward instead, closing the distance and slipping inside his opponent's guard.
Arnos's eyes widened, but it was too late.
Dainsleif pierced through his defense, the blade sinking directly into his throat.
Arnos froze.
The sword slipped from his lifeless fingers.
For several agonizing seconds, he remained standing, staring blankly at Lusian, as though still hoping to hear one final word of encouragement from the heavens.
No answer came.
His body collapsed heavily into the mud.
The Hero of Earth was dead.
For a moment, no one moved.
A crusader slowly lowered his sword.
—The Hero...
Another took a step backward.
—Arnos is dead.
The news began spreading through the ranks like an infection.
For the first time, the soldiers understood that those chosen by the gods could die just like them.
Several hundred meters away, Elizabeth walked through the smoke. Blood stained her dress, and a deep wound ran across her arm, but she kept moving.
Then she spotted Delora.
The heroine could barely remain standing. One hand was pressed against her abdomen, her breathing agonized. Hearing footsteps through the fallen leaves, she raised her head.
Their eyes met in the gloom.
Delora broke the silence.
—So you came.
Elizabeth said nothing. She continued closing the distance.
—I thought you'd hide behind the walls of your kingdom.
Elizabeth stopped dead.
—You handed me over to them.
Delora lowered her gaze, defenseless.
—Yes.
The lack of excuses seemed to fuel Elizabeth's anger even further.
—Why?
Delora slowly raised her eyes.
—Because I was afraid.
Elizabeth had not expected that confession.
—We were all afraid. —Delora swallowed hard.— The gods said it was a necessary sacrifice. They said that if we didn't cooperate... millions would die.
Elizabeth clenched her teeth, filled with contempt.
—And you decided my life was the price to pay.
—Yes.
Silence fell heavily between them.
Delora raised her hand, and a spear of light materialized between her fingers.
—I'm sorry.
She threw it.
Elizabeth twisted aside instinctively. The spear grazed her face and buried itself in the trunk of a tree.
The next instant, Elizabeth had already closed the distance.
Delora tried to retreat, but it was too late. Elizabeth struck her arm, throwing her off balance, seized her by the throat, and slammed her violently against the bark.
—I was afraid too —Elizabeth hissed.
Delora coughed, blood trickling from her mouth.
—I know...
—No. —Elizabeth brought her face closer, her voice glacial.— You know nothing.
She released her.
Delora fell to her knees, and the sword slipped from her limp fingers.
—If I hadn't handed you over... —she murmured weakly.— the ritual would have continued.
Elizabeth froze.
—And?
Delora closed her eyes.
—You would have died.
Elizabeth stared at her for a long, agonizing moment.
—I would rather have died.
Elizabeth's blade pierced Delora's abdomen.
The heroine's eyes widened as the air left her lungs. Elizabeth slowly withdrew the steel, and Delora's body collapsed forward.
Between her frozen fingers, a small dark ring was revealed.
Elizabeth recognized it instantly.
She picked it up, feeling the energy contained within it sear her palm.
Delora raised her eyes one last time, barely able to speak.
—Elizabeth...
Elizabeth stared at her in impassive silence.
—I forgive you —she said.— But I do not absolve you.
The blade fell one final time, and Delora's breathing ceased.
Elizabeth took several unsteady steps.
Then, suddenly, a voice broke through the fog.
—Elizabeth?
She stopped.
Lusian emerged from the smoke.
For a second, neither of them said a word.
He saw the blood staining her dress, the open wounds, the dirt covering her face.
In that instant, the entire world ceased to exist for him.
—What did they do to you? —he exclaimed, striding toward her.
—Lusian...
He seized her by the shoulders, barely restraining his strength.
—Where are you hurt?
—I'm fine...
—Don't tell me you're fine! —His voice tore through the distant murmur of battle.
Lusian desperately searched her body with his eyes: her arm, her neck, her torso, her ribs.
His hands were trembling.
Elizabeth had never seen him so shaken.
—Can you breathe?
—Yes.
—Does anything hurt?
—No.
—Are you sure?
Elizabeth held his gaze firmly.
—Lusian.
At last, the duke went still.
She opened her hand and showed him the dark ring resting in her palm.
—It's not my blood.
Lusian lowered his gaze to the piece of jewelry.
—Whose is it?
Elizabeth closed her fingers around the ring.
—Delora's.
Lusian understood everything.
He asked no further questions. He closed his eyes for a moment and released the breath he had been holding in his chest.
When he opened them again, he looked at her with a mixture of sharp relief and reproach.
—You could have died.
Elizabeth offered a faint smile.
—But I didn't.
—That doesn't change the fact that... —Lusian stopped, unable to finish the sentence.
—Lusian...
—What?
Elizabeth parted her lips.
It's me.
The woman the world calls a monster.
But the words never came.
Elizabeth remained silent as she watched him.
For the first time since stepping onto the battlefield, genuine terror tightened around her chest.
It wasn't fear of the gods.
Nor of the Crusade.
Nor even of her own nature.
She was terrified that Lusian would discover who she truly was.
Because if merely seeing her on the brink of death made him tremble like that...
what would happen when he learned that the woman standing before him was the Demon Queen?