At the Flaming Hall

The hall burned with a constant, flickering crimson glow. The flames that danced along the braziers crackled like whispers of the war that had just ended. Every seat was filled—each of the Five Pillars present, their auras heavy, sharp, and lingering with the scent of battle.

Veymar leaned back casually in his chair, a smug smile curling on his lips. "Well, it's nice to see everyone's still alive."

Dragos turned his head slowly, his molten gaze narrowing. "And what exactly do you mean by that? Were you hoping someone wouldn't make it back, Veymar?"

Veymar shrugged, still smiling. "No, no, just making sure none of my dear elders broke a backbone or two."

Dragos' grin turned dangerous. "You really know how to piss me off."

Malphas slammed his fists on the table, the flames responding with a sharp hiss. "That's enough. We're not here to argue. We'll begin when Lord Azreal arrives."

Orvath, standing silently at the far end, clenched his fist behind his robe. Lord Azreal... come quickly. If you take any longer, the next war will be between the pillars themselves.

Then the grand doors of the hall groaned open.

Azreal entered, his black cloak dragging behind him, Hulk towering at his back like a living shadow. The room fell into silence as every Pillar stood in unison.

Azreal walked past them, gaze unreadable, and sat at the head of the table. "Let's begin."

---

Chamber of Scarlet Flames

"Cassy!" Laisa's voice echoed through her chamber. "Hurry up!"

"I'm coming, my lady!" Cassy rushed in, arms full of gowns. The bed behind her was already buried under dozens of flowing dresses in red, gold, and midnight black.

Laisa stood in front of her mirror, biting her lip in thought. "I'm late to the meeting... but this isn't something I can rush. I need to look perfect for Lord Azreal."

Cassy blinked, panicked. "But, my lady—do you really think this is the right time to be picking a dress?!"

Laisa turned with a grin. "Of course it is. A queen must always look the part."

Cassy sighed, giving in. She walked to the bed and held up a stunning red gown with subtle golden embroidery. "This one. It brings out your eyes."

Laisa took it, admiring the cut. "Hmm... not bad, Cassy. Perhaps you're not as fashion-blind as I thought."

"Thank you, my lady," Cassy said, bowing as Laisa vanished into the washroom, humming to herself.

Moments later, Laisa emerged with her robe tied around her and her hair wrapped in a towel. Two maids came in and helped her dress, their hands moving swiftly to secure her form-fitting gown and pin up her silver hair. When it was done, Laisa looked into the mirror, smiled, and nodded. "Perfect."

---

Back at the Flaming Hall

Azreal's voice echoed firmly. "Begin."

Orvath stepped forward, clearing his throat. "The infernal war is over. All the evolved infernals were eliminated. Lord Azreal personally handled Y'tharion while the rest of the Pillars took down the human infernals."

The Pillars murmured among themselves.

Veymar chuckled. "Lord Azreal fought Y'tharion—? Tch, now I'm jealous."

Selmora laughed coldly. "I would've loved to know if that freak could scream."

Dragos remained quiet, fists clenched beneath the table. He fought Y'tharion—no... he must've defeated him. And just like that, the gap between us grows again... damn it!

Azreal raised his hand. "Correction. I didn't fight Y'tharion— I fought Zarion."

Everything stopped.

Xaltheon narrowed his eyes. "Zarion? That name isn't in any record."

Azreal looked at each of them. "Y'tharion, Sin, and Death... they were all parts of one being—Zarion."

The temperature dropped. Even the flames dimmed.

Malphas muttered, "He used Soul Refraction... split his soul and fooled the gods themselves."

Selmora said slowly, "So all three were just fragments. That means even the legendary Y'tharion was a lie."

Xaltheon leaned back, thoughtful. "But how can we be sure 'Zarion' is even his real name?"

Azreal's eyes gleamed. "He wielded the complete Y'tharion mark. There's no mistaking it."

Orvath adjusted his glasses. "That proves it then... Zarion is real."

Malphas nodded. "A master of deception."

Orvath continued. "Each Pillar defeated the human infernals they were assigned. But... oddly, a few of them were resurrected during the battle."

Azreal folded his arms. "I heard. Still, you won."

Dragos smirked. "They were just small fries. Nothing like before. No evolved strength, no new abilities."

Orvath hesitated. "Except... only the infernal who faced Lord Xaltheon wasn't resurrected."

The room turned toward Xaltheon.

Xaltheon nodded. "It makes sense. I killed it and then sealed it. Perhaps... the seal disrupted something."

Azreal closed his eyes. "I see. That explains it."

Just then, the doors opened again—softly this time.

Everyone turned.

Laisa entered, walking gracefully, her crimson gown shimmering with each step.

Veymar smirked. "And here comes the lady of the hour."

Laisa bowed lightly, holding her dress. "I'm pleased to see you doing well, my Lord."

Azreal gave a small nod. "Yes."

She took her seat.

Orvath cleared his throat, eager to steer things forward. "As I was saying—apart from the infernals' bodies, the reconnaissance team found nothing of importance at the Graveyard of Reason."

Azreal leaned forward. "Meaning it was cleared before the war began?"

Orvath nodded. "That's the most logical assumption."

Suddenly, a soft hum lit the air as a glowing blue panel opened beside Azreal.

Sarah's voice emerged. "The key to the Hollow Realm still hasn't been located, my lord. But it appears that whoever holds it hasn't made a move yet."

She continued, "If I may suggest—"

Azreal's tone turned ice-cold.

"Sarah."

The air dropped instantly. Pressure hit the room like gravity folding in on itself.

"Know your limit."

Sarah's voice stuttered. "I—I apologize, my Lord." The panel blinked out immediately.

No one spoke. Even the flames seemed to tremble.

Azreal stood up slowly. With a snap of his fingers, a glowing crimson portal tore open behind him. He stepped through and vanished as the gate sealed shut.

Silence reigned.

Selmora finally spoke, "I wonder what made Lord Azreal so furious."

Veymar grinned. "Who knows? That man's more emotionless than a stone... until he isn't."

Laisa rose from her seat.

Xaltheon teased, "Leaving already?"

Dragos added with a smirk, "You should try arriving early and leaving late. Don't you think that's better for appearances?"

Laisa turned to glance at him but said nothing as she walked out, her heels echoing on the polished floor.

Malphas stood. "Let's leave it at that."

One by one, the Pillars began to exit.

Orvath moved quietly, trying to slip away unnoticed.

But Veymar appeared beside him, grinning from ear to ear.

"Running off so soon, Orvath?"

Orvath jolted. "I—I have an experiment to attend to."

"Oh? Something urgent?"

Orvath nodded quickly. "Yes. About the human infernals."

Veymar's grin widened, tilting his head. His eyes glinted with something darker.

"Heh... Orvath, tell me—do you know what human infernals feel when they're truly afraid?"

Orvath froze in place, coughing from the pressure in Veymar's voice. "I... I haven't experienced that," he admitted. "But it seems possible. After all, they were more or less human, weren't they?"

Veymar's smile widened, playful but sharp like a blade. "Exactly. That's what makes their fear so deliciously raw." He stepped closer, shadows dancing around his figure. "Now then... let's head to your lab, Orvath. I'm in the mood to be educated. Intrigue me with the wonders of science."

With a snap of his fingers, a crimson gate formed behind him—swirling with dark mist and a faint echo of laughter. "Shall we?"

Orvath hesitated, but nodded. "Y-Yes."

He stepped in first, disappearing into the mist. Veymar followed right behind, twirling his finger with glee. The gate sealed shut with a soft crackle, leaving the hall silent once more.

---

Nena's Room

The door creaked open gently. Azreal stepped in, his expression quiet, yet heavy with thought. Inside, Nena turned as if she had been waiting. She stood immediately. "You're back."

Azreal nodded. "Yeah."

She looked at him for a moment, then smiled softly. "I'll excuse you both." She brushed past him quietly, closing the door behind her.

Azreal walked to the bedside, sitting beside Aria. His fingers gently curled around hers, his thumb brushing her palm as he stared at her sleeping face.

A whisper echoed in his mind—"The world... or Aria."

His chest tightened.

He lowered his head slowly, resting it against her hand. "What am I supposed to choose..." he muttered.

Then—warmth.

A sudden touch stroked his head.

His eyes snapped open. He lifted his head quickly—

Aria's eyes were open, glowing faintly with life.

She whispered in shock, "Azreal...!"

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