Mitsuki raised his shotgun and sword to shield himself. The ground beneath his feet shattered, cracking in multiple directions—just like the bones in his arms, which creaked painfully with a dry snap he could barely hear over the roar of the storm.

The impact traveled through his entire body like an internal shockwave, making the ash clinging to his skin tremble and peel away in tiny particles that the rain immediately washed off.

The sound of crystal flowers shattering mixed with the rain, creating a sharp echo that pierced the ears, while everyone’s eyes remained fixed on Mitsuki’s lifeless face.

In that fraction of a second, the princess asked him:

"Answer me—who are you?"

Confused, Mitsuki looked into her eyes, but said nothing. His gaze was empty, as if the question held no meaning within his numbed mind.

By then, Marco was already at Cinderella’s side, ready to cut her in half once again. Azel stood with him, his expression focused, breathing unevenly but never taking his eyes off the enemy.

The princess reacted, moving her other two arms. She blocked both of their strikes while crushing Mitsuki with her remaining two arms. The impact triggered a small explosion of water and ash dust, sinking the ground even further beneath them.

Behind them, however, Monar extended his hand.

A green and red light, in the form of a translucent sphere, slowly danced above his palm. Its surface rippled like liquid, pulsing with something ancient and alive. It trembled as if it had a will of its own, reacting to changes in the surrounding prana. Rain struck its glow, merging with its translucent color and creating small waves across its surface.

"The divinity of two beings who chose different paths..." the elf whispered.

The sphere began to shake violently, emitting a low hum that spread through the air like a constant vibration.

"They fuse to give birth to the origin."

Mitsuki’s expression didn’t change. Suddenly, his body disintegrated into damp ash particles that fell heavily beside the princess, spreading like a dark puddle sliding across the tiles.

With a brief impulse, he spun on his axis, reassembling his form in an instant.

His shotgun roared. He aimed and fired. What followed were searing flames, released with such force that they still resembled a massive laser beam, cutting through the rain and evaporating it along their path, leaving behind a trail of vapor that distorted space itself.

Cinderella raised her swords to block the burning light, but Marco dropped to his knees, feeling the sting of friction, and sliced her heels in a precise motion.

She fell to her knees as the blue firelight faded, and Azel surged forward, driving his knee into her face. The impact echoed with a dull crack, sending fragments of ash scattering from her features.

Cinderella tilted to the side from the blow, but recovered immediately. She rose and swung her swords with overwhelming force. The flowers obeyed her will, and the spikes grew as the battle intensified, bursting violently from every available surface.

Monar whispered:

"The origin is darkness; the Science of Good and Evil."

Great currents of wind burst from the magic circle beneath his knees like a mysterious vortex guided by his brief words, lifting dust, ash, and crystal fragments that spiraled around him in chaotic motion. For a moment, this drew the princess’s attention—but she had no choice but to keep fighting the adventurers.

"Darkness became energy, and that energy has watched us since the beginning."

A strange, translucent green hand manifested beside Monar. It touched his shoulder with familiarity, like an ancient gesture, and Monar’s relaxed yet pained expression became completely serene.

At the same time, two demonic, ethereal hands covered his nonexistent eyes with the cruelty of a being from the abyss, their long, thin fingers pressing gently as if trying to take full control.

"It was the song of a rebel, echoing across the universe."

The demon took control.

"It was the cry of a proud being of light, hungry for power."

Monar returned.

"This is the heart of the beginning—to end the tragedy or to bring it forth in the light of our origin."

The Lord of Green spoke:

"Heart of the Void."

The sphere exploded. A massive crimson and green wave spread across the arena, expanding like an invisible tide that swept through everything in its path, covering Monar’s friends in its mysterious luminous mantle—a mantle that gradually turned purple, as if darkness itself had offered its flames.

Then, wrapped in that mantle of power, Marco’s speed and strength increased so monstrously that his body became a blur appearing across the battlefield, leaving trails of water and ash behind him.

The same effect filled Azel’s soul, and he pushed with all his strength against Princess Guinevere Cinderella, forcing her back with the rebound of their clashing blades, generating waves that made the air tremble.

However, there was something strange Monar didn’t understand.

Mitsuki, who moved between Azel and Marco, attacking the princess at incredible speed, received none of the mantle’s energy or its benefits.

"Why isn’t he...?"

Even the Lord of Green and the primordial demon had no answer.

The battle exploded in intensity. Marco appeared everywhere as if teleporting, his attacks coming from impossible angles. His cry of pain and fury filled the scene, accompanied by the violent clashes of steel.

Azel clenched his fist tightly and finally drew his bowstring. He created a light arrow with his magic, but it was corrupted by the purple aura surrounding them—darkening, growing denser and heavier, transforming into an even more destructive arrow than his blood arrows.

How was that possible?

When Azel released the arrow, it tore through the air with a deafening hum and disintegrated the upper half of the princess’s body, leaving a momentary void where matter had been.

Marco wasted no time, cutting the remains to pieces while Mitsuki fired once more.

’I feel... strange...’ he thought.

He loaded, aimed, and fired.

’I don’t understand what’s happening to me.’

The remains of the lower half of the princess’s torso were reduced to nothing, scattering like dark mud across the tiles—but no notification appeared. Clearly, she had a way to avoid being erased forever.

However, Mitsuki wasn’t thinking about that.

’It doesn’t hurt.’

He advanced toward where the princess would reappear. Instinctively, Azel and Marco followed, synchronizing their movements without needing words.

’I can’t think.’

Part of the castle suddenly exploded. From within the rubble, dragging all the dampening ash with it, Cinderella raised her sword, and all the wet dust began to rise into the sky, forming a massive dark ring held by nine curved pillars that latched onto nearby buildings, warping the very structure of the kingdom.

Obeying Cinderella’s will, the rain clouds split apart, as if cleaved by a divine force, revealing blinding sunlight descending upon the immense ring, illuminating the ash with a sickly glow.

Everyone knew what that meant—and they wouldn’t allow it.

"You won’t do it!" Monar shouted.

Azel loaded dark arrows and fired. A storm of them formed in the sky, falling like an inverted rain, piercing parts of the ash ring and striking the princess.

She swung her sword in a wide arc, releasing a blade of fire that disintegrated the arrows before they could make contact.

Soon, Marco and Mitsuki stood before her. Both attacked. Their swords clashed, causing nearby debris to fall with every impact, breaking loose from weakened structures.

The princess advanced, forcing them back—but Mitsuki planted his foot forward and refused to yield. His boots sank slightly into the wet ash as he held his ground.

’I...’

Clang! Swords... Again and again.

’I have to win.’

A screen before his eyes... in that dark room.

’I must win. I always win.’

His strength didn’t increase—but his battle instinct did. Marco continued coordinating his movements, adapting to Mitsuki’s irregular rhythm. Together, they managed to cut off two of Cinderella’s arms. Mitsuki aimed his shotgun from behind and fired.

Cinderella turned to defend, but Marco thrust his sword through her blade, piercing her defense at an impossible angle.

An arrow flew straight toward her head and nearly decapitated her. Dry ash splattered everywhere, mixing with the rain in a black downpour—and the ring above them trembled, as if on the verge of collapse.