"HAAAAAAAH!!"

'GRUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!'

In the blink of an eye, the Hero and the crimson dragonkin released their magic power in a violent clash, closing the distance between them. A moment of silence followed—then, an earth-shaking impact erupted, sending debris flying in every direction. At that moment, the girl—Freesia Greyfrost—moved.

"Let’s go, Levia!!"

"Y-yes!!"

Until now, the young assassin noble had been hiding in the shadows, barely shielding herself from the aftermath of the battle. But she followed Freesia’s lead.

Standing there in shock would only result in getting caught up in the battle of the Hero and becoming a hindrance. More importantly, they still had something they needed to do. A duty entrusted to them.

They had to check on and rescue the girl he had thrown himself away to protect.

"First, we’re digging out all this rubble!!"

"O-okay!!"

The imperial castle, where the "Blood" princess had been imprisoned, along with its underground chambers, lay crushed under a mountain of debris. At first glance, the chances of her survival seemed hopeless. Still, Freesia and Levia poured their remaining strength and magic into clearing the wreckage, relying on the faint remnants of magic lingering in the air.

Clearing the debris piece by piece would be too inefficient. So, Freesia conjured a massive, conical ice chunk and spun it rapidly, grinding away at the ground in large swaths. As she channeled her magic, grimacing at the grating noise of ice and rubble colliding, she heard a familiar voice through the cacophony.

"Lady Freesia!"

"Prince Chronos! Schvia! Thank goodness—you’re safe!!"

Turning around, she saw Chronos and Schvia standing there. Ever since entrusting them with the in the garden, she had been unable to confirm their safety. Seeing them unharmed now was a relief.

"We’ll help too!"

"We just… need to dig, right?"

"Yes! Please!!"

The two of them already knew how the battle between the Shadow Dragon and Claym had ended. The distant sound of clashing blades and the absence of the Hero here allowed them to grasp the situation.

With more hands—especially with the help of Schvia’s Gravity Magic—the speed of clearing the rubble increased dramatically. The ground was rapidly being dug out, and as the debris was removed, the faint magical presence they had sensed from deep below became stronger.

—There’s still time!!

Convinced of this, Freesia and the others dug with all their might.

"HAAAAAAAH!!"

'GRUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!'

The imperial castle was already abandoned—or rather, it had collapsed into a mountain of rubble. The once-beautiful gardens and grand gates were now buried beneath the wreckage, reduced to a pitiful sight. The imperial soldiers who had once guarded the castle were nowhere to be sensed.

Freesia and the others had already retreated, shifting their focus to searching for the "Blood" princess.

In other words, the only ones left in this entire area were the Hero and the crimson dragonkin. With no one to hold them back, they could fight without restraint—freely, instinctively, and without care for anything else.

"UURAAAH!!"

'GRUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!'

The azure-colored Hero's sword and the dragon-slaying blade fused to his right arm whipped through the air, carving sharp arcs. Both fighters targeted only one thing—the neck. Their honed swordsmanship, trained with the singular intent of delivering fatal strikes, made their movements eerily similar.

"'────!!'"

A deafening clash of steel. A sharp, grating sound that stuck to the ears, making brows furrow. Their blades met as if drawn together, locking in a fierce struggle. But neither stalled. Their speed only increased.

'GRUAA!!'

The dragonkin roared, unleashing countless chains of blood into the air. These high-performance external units, serving both offense and defense, moved semi-autonomously in response to the Hero's actions.

"Tch—Even after all that, you still have enough magic to use this!?"

The chains rained down from above, aiming to bind the Hero. Reacting instinctively, he withdrew his sword and created some distance, conjuring countless blades of light that shot toward the blood chains simultaneously. However, the dragonkin’s magic was superior in raw power. Not all the chains could be destroyed.

"Like hell I’ll lose to this—!!"

With sheer force of will, the Hero conjured a barrier of light, blocking the remaining chains. As shattered links scattered around him, he immediately transitioned into a counterattack.

'GRUUGAAA!!?'

The Hero's blade, now reinforced with concentrated light, struck true, embedding deep into the dragonkin’s shoulder.

—He's reaching his limit!!

Normally, the dragonkin—no, he—would have dodged that strike without fail. But now, the fatigue was obvious. Seizing the moment, the Hero closed in.

"OOOOOOOOOOHHH!!!!"

Once more, countless blades of light appeared around him, slashing in all directions. The Hero's attacks left wounds across the dragonkin’s armored scales. But his opponent would not go down so easily.

'GRUAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!'

Wielding the dragon-slaying sword, the dragonkin transformed his own gushing blood into deadly weapons, slicing into the Hero's pale skin without mercy.

Their thoughts burned white-hot. Their wounds multiplied rapidly. Some gashes deepened to the point of being unmanageable. With every exchange of attacks and defenses, magic drained from their bodies at a terrifying speed. The blood spilling from their wounds was becoming impossible to ignore.

—It hurts. It burns. I’m exhausted. My body is heavy. I’m scared…!!

As the battle escalated, Weiss’s consciousness wavered. The relentless cycle of pain, exhaustion, and the looming specter of death clouded his mind. He was beginning to forget—

Why was he enduring this?

Why was he throwing himself into this endless, merciless struggle?

────I'm counting on you, Weiss. You're my only hope────

“Hah────Not yet!!”

Even so, the Hero recalled his promise with him, steeled himself, and reasserted his resolve. At this point, technique and skill were secondary; what mattered most was an unyielding spirit—the sheer force of will to face the powerful foe before him with unwavering courage.

He narrowly dodged the approaching Dragon-Slaying Blade by a hair’s breadth and prepared to deliver his strongest strike.

“Luminous Vanish────”

“Guaaagh! Gahhh!!?”

However, he hesitated when his opponent, the dragonkin, suddenly spewed a massive amount of blood from his mouth, letting out a pained cry.

“Clay-kun!!”

Without realizing it, the Hero found himself worried about the dragonkin, who was writhing in agony. As he scanned the battlefield, he saw that, in the relentless sky-high battle, the dragonkin's body had finally surpassed its limits. He could no longer withstand the immense power he had taken upon himself, and his body was beginning to break apart.

Like a flickering candle in the wind. His refined movements and precise magic had vanished, and he could no longer properly defend against the Hero's attacks. On the battlefield, he was nothing more than a standing scarecrow—an overwhelming opening. There was not even the slightest reason for the Hero to let this moment slip by.

“Kh…!!?”

Yet, as he saw the dragonkin suffering, memories of their shared hardships and friendship flashed through his mind, and in this final moment, he hesitated. The sky-colored sword in his grip lost its gleam, his heart wavered, and his precision faltered.

And then, it was none other than his own master who rebuked him────

“Do not… hesitate────”

It was Claym Bradley.

“Strike him down in a single blow!!”

There was nothing strange about it. It was just like him—exactly what he would have said. It was also the very first lesson he had ever taught.

“Tch… I understand────!!”

Thus, the Hero, Weiss, resolved to slay the enemy before him with the greatest magic at his disposal.

Surging waves of overflowing mana. This was the ultimate secret technique of a Hero’s lineage, an ancient skill safeguarded through the ages. A holy, untainted blade of light, meant to annihilate all before it—foes, monsters, dragons, and even demons.

“Radiant Blade of the Dragon-Slaying Light—Brightness!!”

Prismatic light particles surged forth, the densely concentrated blade of light piercing through the dragonkin’s formidable scales and carving a massive hole in his chest.

“Agh…gah────”

Blood erupted in a crimson spray. The dragonkin could not even scream, left utterly powerless.

“────I’m sorry.”

As the dragonkin collapsed to the ground, utterly drained of strength, the Hero clearly heard the fading, remorseful voice of the master he so respected and the dear friend he cherished.

“Clay-kun!!”

Having successfully vanquished the Demon King, the Hero immediately shed his title and returned to being nothing more than a weak, ordinary boy. He rushed to embrace his fallen, blood-soaked friend.

The dragonkin—Claym Bradley—was still breathing. Over half of the dragon scales that once covered his body had fallen away, revealing his human form once more. Yet the gaping wound in his chest was fatal. Blood flowed endlessly from it, an undeniable sign that death was imminent.

“I need a healing elixir—now!!”

Weiss took out the highest-grade recovery potion he had kept in reserve and poured it generously over Claym’s massive wound.

“Wha…why!?”

The moment the elixir touched Claym’s body, an abnormal heat surged from within him, evaporating the potion. Witnessing this, Weiss felt his mind spiral into panic.

The dragon’s blood still flowing through Claym’s veins had already fallen into abyssal corruption. His body, now transformed into something monstrous, rejected the holy power of the elixir. Unaware of this truth, Weiss could only feel lost, confused, and utterly desperate.

“No! This can’t be happening! You can’t die here! We finally defeated the cause of Alice-chan’s suffering! You’re supposed to be happy with her now! You can’t die! Even if the world allows it, I—Hero Weiss Brightness—will never allow it! So please, I beg you! Don’t die! Stay alive!!”

He cried, wailed, and screamed—his anguished voice echoing across the barren battlefield.

There was no way to seal the wound or heal him. Weiss could do nothing but watch as his dearest friend succumbed to death. He loathed his own powerlessness, his inability to do anything. Why wasn’t it him instead? Why did Claym have to suffer like this? He resented the world, cursed it, and despised its cruelty.

But reality remained unchanged. It mercilessly forced its truths upon him. Weiss could do nothing but watch as Claym’s body continued to crumble, his form breaking apart as if fractured from within, blood spilling relentlessly.

“Ugh…aaaaah…AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!?”

Overwhelmed by frustration and guilt, Weiss finally began to break under the weight of his despair.

“Are you okay!? Clay! Weiss!”

A familiar voice called out from behind him. Instinctively, Weiss turned toward it, desperate for hope.

What he saw were his comrades, those who had fought alongside him until now. Among them stood the one person Claym Bradley had cherished more than anyone else in this world—Alice Bradley.

“E-Everyone────”

Seeing that the girl Claym had risked everything to save was unharmed, Weiss felt a fleeting moment of relief and regained his composure. But the dire situation remained unchanged.

“No way────”

As Freesia and the others rushed to Claym’s side, they gasped and fell into despair at the sight of his broken body. However, his younger sister alone remained composed, her eyes showing not even the slightest hint of resignation.

“Please don’t worry. I will absolutely save my brother.”

With those resolute words, the girl with crimson eyes, filled with unwavering determination, unleashed the power she had kept hidden for the past six and a half years.