In the end, Yuru vanished after saying those words.

RAAAAAARGH!

All that remained was the monster, roaring in rage.

『…My lord?』

Syltanaro called out to Clay, who still had his eyes fixed on the spot where Yuru had disappeared.

RAAAGH!

『My lord!』

Only when the monster came charging again, swinging both its arms, did Clay finally lift his feet from the ground.

Swoosh!

He narrowly slipped between the monster’s lunging arms, spun in the air, and slashed its neck with his sword.

Guh—?!

As Clay landed, the monster stumbled, clutching its throat.

There was no Yuru now to heal it. All the wounded creature could do was stagger backward, then finally collapse to its knees.

THUD!

As expected, its legs gave out first. The massive body slowly toppled to the ground.

BOOOOOM!

Dust exploded into the air in a wide burst.

Syltanaro held her breath at the sight. Clay had taken the risk and struck at the perfect moment. His courage and precision were overwhelming.

‘Incredible.’

Even with the unexpected appearance of a former comrade, he hadn’t lost his composure.

‘But that was definitely…’

Just earlier, the one who spoke to Clay had been none other than the Grand Mage of the Blue Tower.

‘She didn’t look like that before.’

Syltanaro knew about Yuru, of course. She had seen her since the days of the former Demon King. She remembered well the kind of person Yuru had been.

Back then, Yuru hadn’t had the courage to step forward like that. Her eyes weren’t filled with the fixation she carried now.

‘Well… it’s not my place to worry.’

Her change wasn’t Syltanaro’s concern—at least, not unless it began to affect Clay.

‘But he remains composed.’

Syltanaro believed Clay was quietly focusing on what he needed to do.

“…Hah.”

She was half right.

But also, half wrong.

Letting out a faint sigh, Clay furrowed his brow slightly.

‘She’s grown stronger.’

Yuru seemed stronger every time he saw her. It was almost as if she had taken his transformation into the Demon King as her own trial—and honed herself through it.

‘No… more than that.’

When he sliced off her hood earlier, Clay had realized something.

She had deliberately left an opening.

‘She’s going to become a real nuisance if this continues.’

He had known of her talent. But he hadn’t anticipated this rate of growth. She had already been nearing the peak as a mage.

Who would’ve predicted she’d evolve even further from there?

Step. Step.

So many thoughts—but right now, something else took priority. Clay shook off his distractions and approached the fallen monster.

‘I must not be swayed.’

Yuru hadn’t given up on him. That lingering obsession was chasing him. Getting caught in it now would be dangerous.

“So much magia…”

The corpse of the monster glowed a deep violet. It had devoured an unfathomable amount of corrupted mana.

『My lord, there…』

At Syltanaro’s voice, Clay turned his gaze to the monster’s neck.

Half-submerged in blood, a ring had begun to reveal itself—glinting faintly.

“The Ring of Luanac.”

An artifact once worn by the shadow god Luanac, born from the Black Spring. It could store all manner of power.

It was especially effective at storing magia, and had been a highly coveted item even among High Demons.

“So it had it.”

Even after sending some demons to search for the Ring of Luanac, they had failed to find a trace. Now he knew why.

Still, if Yuru hadn’t retrieved it, there was no guarantee he would’ve found it himself.

‘Had it been left alone, they might’ve moved it elsewhere.’

Back when the Demon King’s army started moving, Yaphenon would have relocated strategic artifacts for wartime security.

This wasn’t speculation. Clay had confirmed it himself in the war strategies outlined during his time as a Hero.

‘Except for the Origin Prayer.’

That one artifact—he had been sure—Utor would keep with him to the end.

And he had been right. It was how he ultimately retrieved the Origin Prayer.

“Syltanaro. Step back.”

At Clay’s command, Syltanaro returned to her human form and backed away.

Clay glanced at her, then stepped up to the monster’s body and reached with his left hand toward its throat.

Crunch!

Like uprooting a root buried deep underground, Clay gripped the ring and pulled it free.

Zzzzzzzzzz!

Suddenly, the magia absorbed from all the other monsters in the forest surged in his hand like a rising inferno.

“Kh!”

“My lord!”

“Don’t come closer!” Clay stretched out his other hand to stop Syltanaro from approaching.

“This is mine to endure!”

Rumble rumble rumble!

A tremor spread through the ground like an earthquake.

Clay grit his teeth and forced the ring onto the index finger of his left hand.

“!”

Magia stored within the ring surged into his body.

It was like water from a high place flooding down.

“Ghh?!”

The impact made Clay stagger. His heart raced as blood pounded through his veins like thunder.

‘This much…?’

It wasn’t just a gift.

‘Yuru… that woman…’

Had she been waiting here just to deliver this magia?

Even the ring had been part of the “wrapping.”

Sizzle!

It felt like he had put on a ring heated in lava—pain exploded in his finger. His mouth fell open as he focused entirely on enduring it.

At last—

Huff, huff…

It stopped.

“My lord!”

Syltanaro ran to him.

“Are you all right?!”

Huff… huff…

Catching his breath, Clay lifted his head.

“Yeah.”

What he felt in that moment was a kind of pressure.

‘Yuru… what are you becoming?’

Perhaps it was something closer to dread.

♧

“Lady Yelena.”

In Ezer—

The elves were using a detached wing of the imperial palace as a temporary residence.

“They say the Blood Lord has appeared in Yaphenon.”

An elven soldier, having come to report to Yelena who remained in the study, continued.

“We don’t know the details, but if the Blood Lord has surfaced, the entire continent could be in danger. We should begin preparations at once…”

The soldier trailed off mid-sentence.

Yelena was staring blankly beneath the desk, not reacting.

“Lady Yelena?”

He called again, but she remained motionless.

Seeing this, the soldier sighed quietly and left the room.

“How was it?”

“Same as always. Not a word.”

At the question of a fellow guard stationed at the entrance, the soldier let out another sigh.

“She has to know how dangerous the Blood Lord is. But I don’t think she’s recovered from the guilt of what happened to the Hero.”

“Hmph, that’s a real problem.”

“First, I’ll report the appearance of the Blood Lord to Her Majesty the Empress of Ezer. Lady Yelena at least responds to her, somewhat.”

Just as the soldier turned to leave the wing—

Step. Step.

Empress Tia of Ezer approached with a small escort of guards.

“You’ve just come from speaking with Yelena, I assume?”

She spoke the moment she saw the elven soldier exiting the annex.

“How is she? Is she resting well?”

“Ah, well…”

Though caught off guard by the unexpected visit, the soldier quickly composed himself. He had planned to speak with her anyway.

“She is resting… but I’m not sure she’s doing well.”

“I see.”

“…Pardon?”

“I’ll speak with her directly.”

“Ah—Your Majesty!”

The soldier called out urgently.

“The Blood Lord has appeared in Yaphenon!”

“I see.”

“Yes, so… Wait, what?”

The soldier blinked in confusion at Tia’s calm reaction, then inhaled sharply.

“Y-Your Majesty, the Blood Lord is an ancient god! That means something sealed has broken loose!”

“I know.”

“Then we must take immediate—!”

“I said,”

Tia’s gaze met his directly.

“I know, didn’t I?”

“…!”

Though her expression hadn’t changed, the pressure in her eyes silenced the soldier completely.

“Then,”

With a faint smile, Tia turned and continued walking. The soldier couldn’t bring himself to stop her—he just stood there, stunned.

“Your Majesty.”

As they walked down the corridor inside the annex, Lilien, Captain of the Royal Guard, spoke.

“It seems Emperor Lutan’s warning about the Blood Lord appearing in Yaphenon was true.”

“Indeed. Our own intel confirmed it, and now the elves say the same.”

Tia let out a dry chuckle.

“Why do you think Lutan told us?”

It hadn’t been long since unpleasant tensions between Ezer and Krata had flared up. Yet Lutan had sent another unofficial letter to relay this news.

‘If anything, it just proves his own involvement.’

Raising her finger to her lips thoughtfully, Tia’s eyes narrowed.

‘Ah.’

Then, a sly smile crept across her face.

‘I see, Lutan. You want to remind me you still control the board, don’t you?’

If the Blood Lord truly was heading for the Demon King, just as Lutan wrote, then it meant he still had powerful weapons at his disposal.

‘Including himself, of course.’

Even if he looked like an old man, there was a reason Lutan could afford to be so arrogant.

And Tia didn’t deny that the reason was convincing.

Lutan could rightfully be called the strongest human alive.

‘Though he never did face the Hero directly.’

Lost in thought, Tia soon found herself standing in front of Yelena’s room.

Knock knock.

“Lady Yelena, Her Majesty—”

“It’s fine.”

Tia raised her hand to stop Lilien mid-sentence and stepped forward herself.

She opened the door and found Yelena sitting there, blank and unresponsive.

“Yelena.”

At the sound of her name—

Yelena slowly lifted her gaze.

“…Tia.”

“I told you to rest properly, didn’t I?”

Tia approached her, eyes level.

“If you want to keep up with Clay as he walks down a different path, you need the strength not to fall behind.”

“!”

Yelena’s eyes widened.

“I—I’m sorry. I acted foolishly again…”

“Don’t blame yourself, Yelena.”

Tia reached out and gently brushed her cheek.

“You’re just… a pitiful soul.”

Simply being part of the Hero’s party had dragged her into all this. Tia tried to comfort her.

“But now, you need to get your head on straight.”

With eyes dark and wholly unfitting for a saint, Tia whispered,

“We must reclaim Clay, even if we have to devour this continent to do it.”

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