The Damned Demon

The cold wind over the northern cliffs of Rhogart Continent whipped through the ragged black cloaks of the Bloodburners as they crouched among the jagged stones. The distant plains below spread out in a gray, endless expanse, dotted by the pale silhouettes of countless werewolves, all tense and waiting. And in the very center, the one man Asher had been waiting to destroy.

Derek Sterling.

Rowena's crimson eyes narrowed as she scanned the scene, her long raven hair drifting around her face. She rested a gauntleted hand on the basalt outcrop before her, her voice low and taut with suspicion.

"I don't feel good about this," she murmured, her breath turning to mist. "He wouldn't challenge the Moon Guardian like this unless he's confident he can survive the full force of every werewolf clan in Rhogart. And he shouldn't be able to. Not with the few hundred men he brought with him."

She glanced over her shoulder at Asher. Even now, her husband's expression was carved from stone, his eyes locked unblinking on the direction at which Derek was.

"I know," Asher replied quietly, not looking away. "But…" He turned, finally, to Naida, who stood a step behind him. "Naida told us to wait."

Naida gave a nod of confidence and trust, making Asher feel reassured again.

"That's what we're going to do." His gaze drifted back out over the plains, following the icy horizon. "It's not like I can kill him without ensuring Arthur's safety first. Derek doesn't fight fair. He makes plans within plans. I can't risk jumping through that portal to Mars. If he closes it behind me, you'll all be trapped here with him and his thugs."

"Hmph." Rebecca crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her dark eyes glinting with confidence, "You don't have to worry about us."

Her voice softened slightly, though her chin remained lifted in defiance.

"We'll be fine. All of us are here for each other," she continued, her gaze sharp as a blade. "But as much as I hate his little goody ass, your son is probably suffering alone. Do you really want to lose him without even properly reuniting with him? Trust me—" She shook her head, her strands whispering over her shoulders. "—you don't want to know how it feels if the worst happens."

Asher's jaw tightened, her words striking home deeper than he cared to admit. His eyes flickered down, his breath roughening as a wave of memory threatened to splinter the control he'd fought so hard to maintain.

Arthur.

The child he never thought he'd see again.

The son he'd never been allowed to raise.

The son whom he never got to love and care.

The dilemma in his chest twisted deeper, darker.

Before he could speak, a cold wind swept over the cliffs, carrying a sudden swell of power that made every Bloodburner stiffen.

Asher lifted his head sharply, a flicker of relief softening his severe features as he felt the familiar, distinct auras descending toward them at high speed—strong, purposeful, impossibly alive.

He took a step forward, the wind tossing his moonwhite hair as shapes emerged overhead.

From the gloom of the Martian sky, dozens of figures swept down in a cascade of radiant light and shadow—Rachel, her blue hair whipping around her face as she clutched a spear of glimmering light; Amelia, gripping her staff with grim determination; Grace, her younger form regal and tall, flame-like vermilion mana pulsing around her silhouette; Yui and Hiroto, their expressions grim with shared purpose.

And among them—

Asher felt his heart twist as he saw her.

Layla Drake.

The Queen Mother of the Bloodburn Kingdom. The woman Rowena had mourned for a lifetime.

Her tall, regal figure descended gracefully, her black gown fluttering around her as she landed silently upon the basalt ridge. Her skin was smooth, deceptively youthful, and her eyes—crimson and deep as ancient wells—softened the moment they settled upon her daughter.

Rowena's lips parted soundlessly, her hand lifting to her throat.

"M-Mother…" she breathed, her voice no louder than the wind.

The Bloodburners behind her stared in stunned silence. Even Rebecca's jaw slackened, her mouth opening to speak but no words finding purchase.

Layla stepped forward, the fine embroidery of black dragons catching the last dying rays of the sun light.

"Rona…" she murmured, her voice calm yet thrumming with restrained emotion, "my child… it's been too long, hasn't it?"

Rowena's composure cracked. A raw, disbelieving sound broke from her throat.

"Is that…really you?"

Layla's gaze gentled, her lips curving into a warm smile that broke the icy reserve she wore like a mantle.

"In the flesh and soul, my daughter. I have waited for this moment for an eternity."

She extended her arms, palms open in quiet invitation.

Rowena took one trembling step forward, then another, until her knees buckled and she fell into her mother's embrace. Tears streamed down her cheeks as Layla's arms closed around her, drawing her close as if she would never let go again.

Rebecca finally found her voice, though it emerged hushed and strangled.

"How the hell…" she whispered, her eyes darting to Naida. "You…you never killed her, did you? You tricked us. All of us!"

Naida's smile was small, sad, and unrepentant.

"I am sorry," she said softly. "We had to fake her death…for reasons that were understood by those who needed to understand."

Rebecca snorted sharply, her throat thick. "And you wonder why I can't stand you."

But there was no real anger left in her voice. Only relief. At least Layla never died and it wasn't her fault. She finally felt a piece of her heart getting lighter.

Layla pressed her lips to the crown of Rowena's head, then gently drew back, cupping her daughter's damp cheeks.

"We'll reunite properly later, dear," she said, her voice turning quiet but iron-strong. She lifted her eyes to Asher, her crimson gaze locking to his with fierce purpose. "Son-in-law."

Asher met her stare without flinching. Both of them knew formalities could wait later.

"Your son is safe," Layla declared, her voice ringing clear and certain across the rocks. "Do what is necessary. Make his death as miserable as possible. So many lives rest in your hands now. We will be right behind you."

"He is safe?" he whispered.

For a single heartbeat, Asher's breath caught. Relief, savage and raw, tore through him. Arthur was alive.

But that relief calcified into something cold and deadly. His expression hardened, his eyes turning to slits of burning green.

That was all he needed to hear.

Without another word, Asher shot upward in a violent column of darkness, the air crackling with fire as he tore toward the sky.

Rowena lifted her tear-streaked face, watching him ascend.

One by one, the Bloodburners rose, their auras igniting in the gloom as they followed their king—silent shadows in his wake.

Rachel lifted her spear and turned to the Hunters behind her, her voice calm but fierce.

"As discussed, we are going to follow Hellbringer. This eternal war ends today."

And with that, they surged after Asher, leaving the cliffs empty, the cold wind whispering the promise of vengeance in their wake.

The wind itself seemed to die as Derek stood there, the Void Reaver's hilt gleaming in his gloved hand like a shard of ancient sin. His lone blue eye was wide, pupils contracted to pinpricks as he whispered, almost in excitement,

"Finally…everything I waited for…in the palm of my hand."

His breath came faster. All those years of schemes, bloodshed, and betrayal, all the sacrifices and unthinkable bargains—everything had led to this single moment.

But in the distance, a figure was speeding like a comet through the skies.

"No…" Asher mumbled upon seeing the Void Reaver in Derek's hand. He was too late.

But nevertheless. His eyes were burning green with raw killing intent. It didn't matter as long as he could just simply annihilate him before he could use it.

*RNNNNN*

But then the earth itself betrayed them all.

The ground began to shudder underfoot, softly at first—like a heartbeat swelling inside the crust of the planet. Then the vibrations turned violent, a monstrous groan tearing through the air as the plains buckled and cracked.

Derek whirled, his heart stuttering, as brilliant arcs of radiant blue and white lightning raked across the black sky. The lightning fell in sheets, striking the distant ridgelines with explosive booms.

Even Albert, who had stood impassive through countless abominations, felt the blood drain from his face.

"What in the name of—" he gasped, shielding his eyes as a bolt of searing light struck the First Tower.

A column of energy shot heavenward, so bright it was like a second sun had torn through the bedrock. The tower's vast obsidian silhouette fractured, plates of stone peeling away in a cascade of rubble. The werewolves nearest the blast collapsed, howling in agony as the radiant force scoured their senses.

Luna's breath caught in her throat as she watched, lips parting in silent horror. Lupus alone stood unmoving, his silver brows lowering in grim comprehension.

Asher's wings crumpled as he lost control, crashing to the ground in a plume of shattered ice from the sheer shockwaves from whatever that was.

He forced himself to one knee, covering his eyes with a trembling hand as blinding blue light seared across the plains.

"What the hell…?" he rasped, unable to comprehend why it felt as though the very marrow of the world was splitting apart.

The First Tower collapsed in on itself with a final, earth-shaking groan.

And then, impossibly, the brilliance began to fade.

For a single moment, silence claimed everything—a silence so absolute that every soul present forgot to breathe.

Out of the dying halo of blue and white stepped a shadow. No…a figure...somewhat resembling a human but much bigger.

As the haze unraveled, a colossal man emerged where the tower had stood—his height dwarfing even the tallest structures. Ten meters high, he loomed over them all like the memory of some primordial god.

His flesh glistened like polished stone, muscle rippling over his frame so thickly it looked as if he had been carved from blackened marble. His right eye blazed radiant blue; the left, a consuming white. A black beard framed a mouth curled in a disdainful sneer, as though every living being before him was a pest.

In his enormous fist, he held a spear longer than any pike, its shaft aglow with ethereal power that pulsed in rhythm with the planet's quakes.

He lifted his gaze, eyes locking onto the mortals below him—-looking at him with terror and shock.

And then he spoke, his voice a deep, reverberating thunder that rolled across the broken plains:

"Finally…"

The air around his words rippled with power, carrying the oppressive weight of countless lifetimes.

"…This sovereign's reign starts again."

Every heart seized in terror as Asher's vision cleared enough to see the face more fully—and the cold realization shot down his spine like a knife dipped in ice.

The giant's features were eerily, impossibly familiar...Derek's!