The Wrath of Dire: Endga at Silver City [Part- 4]
"[Fire Vortex]."
A spiral of fla erupted between Rias and the monster. A roaring column of blazing death tore the night open—ripping it apart. The sudden blast of light and heat hit everyone like a punch to the face, forcing eyes shut, arms raised. It was a wall of fire—no, a storm—a hellfire storm that sucked the air dry, turned it into ash.
Dire staggered back, growling, "What—?!"
Through that burning wall, a figure stepped out. Slow, steady. Flas licking at bare skin but never burning him.
Leon.
His eyes—gold, sharp—burned like they could cut through the smoke, wild hair tossed by the wind. Shirtless, chest marked with half-healed cuts, blood crusted at his jawline. Muscles tight and coiled, every part of him pulsing with raw power. His pants clung wet and dark to his legs, and around him, ash swirled, drifting like ghosts. The air bent around his presence. The aura he carried glowed again—imnse, unholy, alive.
The Fire Vortex was his spell.
Leon had risen. And once more, he stood tall.
All nine of the warriors froze in disbelief, their eyes wide.
"D-Darling...?" Aria whispered, her voice shaking.
"He’s standing... after all that?" Rias said. And others breathed in relief.
He rembered. In that instant—when Black and others had shouted to move Rias, when Rias and other stuck in molten lava and Dire was about to be attack on Rias—his system had flared to life. The five-minute countdown was over. His recovery was complete. Strength flooded back into his limbs. The damage undone. Mana pathways cleared.
The system had offered him a pill—one he bought without hesitation, spending 500 black points. The effect was instant. All of his depleted mana surged back, filling every cell with heat, with power, with purpose. He rose. He acted.
Now—he had returned.
But Leon didn’t speak to them. His gaze never wavered.
He looked only at Dire.
"You’ve burned enough of my city," Leon said, his voice deep and calm, but carrying the weight of a rising storm. "Now I’m going to bury you in it."
Dire blinked, as if unable to process what he was seeing. A mocking sneer crept across his cracked lips. "You’re back? Hah! But that doesn’t change anything. It just increases the number of corpses. One more corpse—yours."
Leon didn’t bother replying. He simply raised his hand.
A glowing blue rune flared on the scorched earth.
"[Aqua Wolf]."
The ground trembled as a great shimr rose from the molten soil. Water burst upward, forming into the shape of a massive wolf, its body rippling with liquid magic. It howled—a sound that cut through fla—and pounced, turning the searing lava into clouds of steam. Dire flinched, retreating a step as the beast swept past.
Leon slamd his foot down again.
Another rune blood.
"[Terra Shiver]."
The land quaked. The scorched terrain cracked beneath them. Ice veins rippled out through the magma. The lava binding Rias—and others—shattered as freezing energy spread like a curse through the earth. One by one, the trapped bodies were released. The molten chains snapped. The magical restraints crumbled.
Steam rose in waves. And through it all, Leon walked.
Between smoke and fla, between stunned enemies and recovering allies—he stepped forward, unhurried.
That’s when Dire noticed it. Truly saw it.
"You... You’ve beco more powerful."
Leon’s gaze didn’t flicker. "I always was."
Behind him, they gathered without hesitation. Rias, now released, swiftly took her place by Leon’s side, crimson eyes blazing. Tsubaki’s sword shimred in her grasp, and though she said nothing, her gaze was fixed on Leon’s back with unwavering resolve. Cynthia moved next, composed and graceful as ever, followed by Aria who lifted her chin with quiet determination. Syra and Kyra stepped forward together, their presence bold and unyielding.
Across the other side, Black, Ronan, and Johny advanced with steady steps, silent but resolute. No words were needed—only the echo of their purpose.
They stood behind him—his won, his n, all of them. United. Unshaken. Facing the terror together. And now, the monster would no longer face one man—but ten.
Leon began walking toward the looming figure, this ti with no one holding him back. Neither Mia nor Lira nor the others tried to stop him. His pace was steady; each step etched with finality. Then his voice rang out, cold and clear— "Let’s end this night’s nightmare."
As if his words carried weight beyond steel, the others nodded. His wives stood to his left, shining with resolve. His loyal subordinates held their ground on the right. The battle had shifted—ten against one.
And the monster laughed.
A low, crackling sound erged from beneath its twisted helm. "Hah... Nine to one? It was nothing. What do you think ten will do? Pathetic." His voice dripped with amusent, taunting them like they were children playing with swords.
Leon, however, showed no anger. He didn’t react—not in the way the monster expected. Instead, he turned slowly, golden eyes calm, and looked at those standing with him.
"You all... fall back," he said quietly. "I’ll finish this alone."
Shock rippled through the group.
"What?" Rias stepped forward. "No! We’re fighting together!"
Black’s voice rang out firm. "My Lord—we swore to fight at your side."
Leon didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. "I’m not asking. I’m telling you. Fall back. I’ll end this in one move."
His tone wasn’t harsh, but final. It wasn’t a command of pride—but of trust.
"Form a strong barrier behind ," he continued. "Protect the civilians, the maids, those below Master rank. Make sure no one else gets hurt. This strike... won’t be light."
They wanted to argue—his wives, his n—but sothing in his voice stopped them. It wasn’t arrogance. It was certainty.
"Just trust ," Leon said softly, his golden gaze steady.
Black and Ronan exchanged glances—and in that silent look, a mory stirred. Of the man who had once walked into death and returned with victory. They had trusted him then. And he hadn’t failed.
His wives wavered, golden eyes eting golden eyes, stubborn hearts eting a will even firr than their own. Then, with silent sighs, they began to move—slowly, reluctantly, but with trust that ran deeper than words.
They reached the civilians, forming a protective circle around them. The city still burned in the distance, but their focus was here. On him.
And the enemy scoffed. The monster, now revealed as General Dire, clicked his tongue with disdain.
"Tch... still playing the noble protector, are you, Leon?" Dire sneered, his voice curling with mockery and venom. "So, it’s true—you really are that sentintal little princeling they used to whisper about behind closed doors." His eyes narrowed, a cruel grin stretching across his face. "Back when this all began, I’ll admit... I enjoyed our little scuffles. You pretended to be strong, wore the mask well—but beneath it? You were always just a weak fool trying to act like a warrior." His voice dropped, cold and final. "But I’ve had enough of this farce. No more gas. No more theatrics. Tonight... it ends."
But Leon... only smiled. That smile wasn’t cruel or angry. It carried no bitterness. It was a tired smile—one worn down by years of war and loss—yet behind it was a blade’s edge, quiet and absolute.
"I’m also fed up—with your endless monologues, your fake theatrics... and your face," Leon replied softly, his tone cutting through the air like frost on glass. "So, let’s finish this."
The mont those words left his lips, Rias and the others moved swiftly, positioning themselves closer to where the civilians had been safely escorted, joining the gathered maids and soldiers. There was no need for commands; instinct and battle-forged trust guided their steps. In seamless unison, their fingers danced through the air, tracing familiar patterns as glowing spell symbols blood like fireflies. Chants rose softly from their lips, resonating with practiced harmony. Within seconds, a twin-layered barrier ignited into existence—the first, a dense weave of defensive auras drawn from their imnse Grandmaster Realm might.
The second, a specialized elental shield. Rias and Kyra’s magic moved like a dance—flowing smooth and sharp, every move exact. Syra and Tsubaki unleashed raw power—wild, fierce, untad. Aria and Cynthia stood close, side by side, their connection forged through countless fights, backing each other up with sharp, seamless precision.
Black, Ronan, and Johny pushed forward too, their strength steady and solid, holding the barrier firm like iron pillars. Together, they ford a grand protective do around civilians, maids and soldier and ourselves, a fortress of shimring energy. The second layer, shaped by elite mages and Grandmaster-tier maids from above, hung like a celestial veil—clear as crystal, silent as starlight—guarding all within from the storm to co.
Outside that cocoon of divine protection, Leon stood still.
He exhaled slowly, his chest rising and falling as he centered himself. His eyes, golden and steady, settled on General Dire. Not with rage. Not with panic. Just a steady stare, as though reading the final line of an old story. Then, tilting his head back, Leon gazed up at the shrouded heavens above—a sky drowned in a curtain of black and crimson clouds. A whisper of mory brushed against his mind... a spell buried deep within the Sixth Elent Codex. One he hadn’t dared to cast before.
He sighed again, this ti more deeply.
System, he spoke silently. That spell... I want to use it.
The system’s voice stirred, echoing inside him like a flicker of ancient thought.
[Host, are you certain?]
The system’s voice echoed within his mind, steady but laced with caution.
[That spell... it’s not just a dual-cast. It’s the fusion of two nesis elents. Don’t mistake it as a re combination—those forces were never ant to rge. Their collision could beco unstable if you’re not careful.]
I know, Leon replied without a pause, his inner voice calm and resolute. But I still want to.
There was a brief silence, like the system itself was hesitating—then ca its quiet answer.
[Very well, host. Good luck.]
Leon nodded. Beneath his boots, the ground trembled. He shifted his gaze—and there it was.
A monstrous figure approached from the smoke and rubble. Its every step made the earth quiver, an abomination born of hatred and void. But Leon didn’t flinch. He simply raised one hand into the air, fingers spread wide in a dramatic arc.
"[Holy Sun]," he whispered.
At once, the world changed.
High above, ancient rune sigils burst into the sky, swirling around his arm like wild, tangled threads of light—divine and frantic. A small golden orb appeared, nothing more than a glowing sphere hanging silently. Then it rose, higher and higher, climbing until it hovered fifty ters above, spilling an otherworldly light over the night. The dark sky, once tight and suffocating, now shone with a strange, pure radiance. The Holy Sun floated there—shining like a miniature star, its beams scattering shadows like burning paper.
The battlefield stilled.
Behind Leon, even the crowd that had gathered fell into stunned silence.
Lira stood close to the edge of the barrier, eyes huge, hands pressed tight to her chest. Her voice barely a whisper, shaking. "D-Darling... has Holy Elent?"
Her words barely left before a hush fell—thick and heavy—across the battlefield. Civilians clustered behind lines, eyes fixed, mouths open, staring up at the golden sun blooming out of nowhere above the city. Soldiers stopped dead, weapons halfway raised, breath caught sowhere deep in their throats. Even the kids peeking from behind their parents or stone walls blinked in wonder, faces lit by that warm, impossible glow.
"A sun... at night?" a little boy mumbled, squeezing his sister’s hand till his fingers hurt.
"Is this... magic? Or... is it sothing divine?" an old man whispered, dropping down to his knees, eyes wide.
"No way... that’s Duke Leon... he’s shining like a god," gasped one of the city guards, sweat trailing down his brow.
"I thought he mastered four elents—but this... this is holy magic," murmured a mage in disbelief, his staff trembling in his grip.
"Papa... is our lord going to save us?" a little girl asked, her voice soft and unsure.
"Yes," her father answered without hesitation, eyes never leaving the light. "He always does."
All around, gasps rippled like waves through the crowd, and disbelief began to morph into sothing else—hope. Awe. Reverence. The holy sun above continued to rise, defying the darkness, defying despair. And at its center stood Leon, motionless beneath its glow, as though heaven itself had answered his call.
Even Black, a man who had fought beside Leon in countless brutal wars, felt his eyes widen. He had always known Leon was a master of four elents—fire, wind, earth, and water. But Holy? That had never been ntioned. Not once.
Shock rippled through their ranks like a disease.
And Dire—
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