I Died and Received an SSS-Rank Unique Ability-Chapter 73: Battle of Dark Castle

Within hours, the once-chaotic energy of the castle faded into an eerie stillness. The narrow corridors, once filled with endless footsteps, laughter, and chatter, had fallen silent. No more bartering of artifacts, no eager discussions of new techniques. Even the castle courtyard—usually bustling with movement and life—now stood deserted. Everyone loyal to Aemond was already inside the throne room, listening intently as he delivered his speech.

"...We have been betrayed by our own kind..." His voice thundered through the grand chamber, echoing off the stone walls. As he scanned the crowd, he noted the missing faces. He knew where they had gone. There was no turning back—he had taken a step that could not be retraced.

"But fear not, my people," he continued, raising his arm high. "We will purge the traitors who bow to the demon. We will cleanse our society of its corruption!"

A wave of cheering erupted from the crowd. Weapon artifacts surged into the air like a forest of jagged steel, lifted high by those ready to follow him to the end.

Outside the castle, however, the atmosphere was starkly different.

A mass of figures stood silently before the gates, their faces darkened by grim resolve. At the forefront stood Ayla, flanked by Dain, Klein, Ezra, and a host of Awakened.

She swept her gaze across the group. Their numbers weren’t terrible—no, in fact, the odds were winnable. And yet, a weight pressed against her chest, a sense of foreboding she couldn’t shake.

But she didn’t have time to dwell on it.

A rhythmic thudding began to echo from deep within the castle. Heavy, deliberate footsteps approached. Then, the towering gates creaked open with a deep groan, revealing a flood of people—an army—with venom in their eyes and weapons in their hands.

At the front strode Aemond, calm and composed. A smug smile tugged at his lips, but his eyes remained cold and hollow.

"None of you have to die tonight," he said, voice cutting cleanly through the tension. "Drop your weapons, bend the knee, and you will be forgiven."

Silence gripped the field.

Some looked to each other, uncertainty flashing in their eyes. But no one moved. No one surrendered. They all knew that submission meant death of a different kind—slow, yet inevitable. Life in the Demon Realm was not life at all.

"So be it," Aemond said, voice hardening.

With a flick of his hand, a silver spear materialised in his grasp.

He turned to his people and gave a single, sharp nod.

The battle erupted from his command.

A thunderous roar split the air as both sides surged forward. Bodies collided with explosive force. The first wave fell quickly—those with Dormant Cores stood no chance against the Awakened. The disparity in power was merciless. Blood splashed like ink across stone. Heavy pools of crimson seeped into the earth, staining it dark.

The clash of weapons, the screams of the wounded, the fury of magic and steel—it all blended into a deafening storm of violence. Yet amid the chaos, Ayla heard nothing. The world around her faded.

Before her stood a single figure, still and focused.

Aemond.

The one who had caused all of this. An Awakened—stronger, faster, and more dangerous than anyone Ayla had ever faced.

He lunged forward without warning, his silver spear slicing through the air, aimed straight for her face.

Ayla activated her ability in the blink of an eye, dodging the strike with practised ease. She knew she couldn’t overpower an Awakened. Her mana capacity, her control—it was all limited by her Dormant Core. But she pushed it to its edge. Her core was saturated, her skill sharpened to its absolute peak.

She countered.

Her dagger flew toward Aemond with blistering speed, but he parried with ease. A wicked smile curled across his face.

Not far from her, Dain fought with desperate fury against not one, but two Awakened soldiers. His coin had already fallen a second time, but the relentless assault was taking a toll even on someone as massive as him.

Still, the plan hinged on him.

If he couldn’t keep the Awakened busy long enough, the rest of the strategy would fall apart. They were too fast, too strong, and too many for the Dormant soldiers of the group to handle.

And then there was Klein.

The one person on whom the entire battle truly depended on—the one who was not known for his combat prowess, but rather, the lack of it.

Standing back from the carnage, sweat beading down his face, Klein maintained a wide-range debuff that stretched across the battlefield. Fifteen Awakened—including Aemond—were fighting under its weight. It was the only thing keeping the field remotely balanced. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

Beside him, a bag of mana crystals sat open, ready to replenish his essence as needed.

Guarding him stood Iris, the brown-haired girl with a rapier at her side, eyes locked on the field for any signs of approaching threats.

Then, two enemy soldiers emerged from behind a corner, sprinting toward Klein.

Iris didn’t hesitate.

She dashed forward, her rapier tearing through flesh in two swift strikes. The soldiers crumpled to the ground. But as she withdrew her blade from a lifeless body, a third attacker appeared—far closer to Klein.

Too close.

Iris reacted instantly, but she was just a heartbeat too late.

The attacker’s blade slashed through Klein’s leg as he turned at the last second. Blood burst from the wound. His ability faltered for a split second.

And in that second, everything changed.

Klein barely dodged a follow-up strike as Iris reached him, intercepting the attacker. He refocused immediately, recasting the debuff, but the damage was done.

That brief moment was all the enemy Awakened needed.

With the oppressive weight of the debuff gone, they surged forward like unleashed beasts. Dormant soldiers were cut down in a matter of seconds, the tide of battle turning viciously against Ayla’s group.

The girl stood at the centre of it all, drenched in crimson. A deep gash split open across her thigh, blood pouring freely. Aemond had landed strike after strike the moment the debuff fell, overwhelming her defence.

Now, he stood before her, spear at the ready, grin wide across his face.

"Last words?" he asked, voice mocking.

Ayla opened her mouth, but only blood came out.

Aemond raised his spear, ready to end it all.

Then, before he could take a single step, a heavy roar tore through the sky.

A deafening roar split the heavens.

The battlefield froze, and every head turned upward.

A massive shadow tore through the clouds, wings wide and ice-cold eyes burning with fury.

The enormous figure descended from above, and for the first time since the battle started, Aemond’s smile vanished from his face.