The words hung in the air like holy light breaking through storm clouds.
Then silence.
For a mont, everything stopped.
Eron’s eyes widened—as if waking up from a nightmare. His voice was small. Barely human.
"...What was I doing?"
He looked down at his hands.
"...Did I... beco the kind of person I hated?"
His legs faltered beneath him. His monstrous form wavered, black mana flickering with uncertainty.
"I tried to kill them," he whispered, horrified. "They’re just kids... seventeen, eighteen..."
But the power inside him roared again, dark and wild, like a beast caged too long.
He gritted his teeth, tears still streaming.
"No—stop—I... I won’t...!"
It was weaker now, but it still held him. Still fought for control.
His body launched forward again—claws against Luca’s blades—but it wasn’t a clean strike.
It was desperate. Splintered.
A man fighting not to win, but to lose.
To be freed.
Luca staggered under the blow—but he didn’t retreat.
He saw it clearly now.
Eron was holding back. Fighting the darkness. Choosing not to give in.
And so, with every ounce of strength he had left, Luca pressed forward.
"You’re still in there, Eron," he said, voice raw, eyes burning. "You’re still the sa man who helped others. Who loved his sister more than anything."
Eron scread—a sound not of rage, but agony. Like his soul was splintering apart.
"I SAID STOP—STOP LYING! You wouldn’t even have been born then!" he howled, his voice cracking, trembling. "How could you possibly know her?!"
But Luca didn’t flinch. His voice was soft—almost too soft to be heard amidst the storm still rumbling around them.
"I saw her," he said. "Not in so vision. Not from afar. I saw her through you. Through the you who loved her more than anything. And even after all that pain... even after everything they did to her..."
He t Eron’s stunned, wide eyes.
"...she was smiling."
Eron froze.
Luca stepped forward, blood running down his chin, hands barely steady.
Luca closed his eyes. The mory seared itself into his heart.
"May the Goddess bless you with a smile."
Silence.
The black aura around Eron flickered, wavering like a dying fire.
"She never lost hope," Luca whispered. "Even when you did. Even when the world turned to ash. Because she knew the Goddess wasn’t fake. She knew the world wasn’t entirely lost..."
He stepped even closer.
"...because there were people like you, Eron."
A pause.
And then—
Eron smiled.
Not the twisted, monstrous grin that had stretched across his face in battle.
No.
This was different.
Pure. Warm. Human.
A smile like sunlight after a decade-long winter. Like a flower blooming from stone.
His claws fell to his sides.
Tears stread down his cheeks, soaking the earth beneath him.
"What have I done...?" he whispered.
His knees buckled.
"I... I tried to kill them. Children. Just students..."
He pressed a trembling hand to his face, as if ashad to even look at Luca.
"Mirelle... my sweet Mirelle... if you could see now..."
He shook his head violently.
"I don’t deserve to live. Not like this. Not anymore."
The black corruption flared again, wrapping tighter around him, sensing his resistance. Hungry. Furious.
His hands began to claw at his own chest—but he held himself together.
Barely.
He looked up at Luca, eyes bloodshot and glassy.
"I can’t hold it back for long. Maybe... five minutes. That’s all I can give you."
He smiled one last ti.
"Kill while I’m still myself... Please. Let this end with my own choice. And thank you, child... for reminding who I once was."
Luca’s eyes burned with tears, but he nodded.
He turned toward the others—his voice steadier than it had ever been.
"Everyone. Now. Don’t hesitate. We only have five minutes!"
No one questioned it.
No one needed to.
Because in Luca’s voice... they heard truth.
And so, they moved.
Vincent leapt first, red blade wreathed in fire. Each strike clean, deliberate—an executioner’s precision masked by a knight’s sorrow.
Elowen rained arrows of pure mana from the rafters, her eyes misted but her aim true, each shot piercing the armor of shadows like judgnt itself.
Selena whispered a spell—her ice shield shimred with light, then she charged, magic amplifying every step. Her lightening sang as it cut through darkness.
Lilliane weaved between them, spells clashing, movents like dance, her expression focused and grim.
Kyle roared, earth rumbling beneath him as he summoned stone and fla, launching a barrage with everything he had left.
Aiden with his glowing sword, stabbing, slashing , empowering it with his light elent.
Finally , the strongest Seraphina, with the wind cutting through from her hands and water waves aid to destroy forming a water tornado.
Eron t them all.
Not as a man anymore—but as a maelstrom of sorrow made flesh.
But the corruption was fighting against him, too.
Every ti he struck, there was hesitation.
Every scream from his mouth was followed by a whisper: "Please... end this."
The ground trembled beneath them. The sky of the dungeon cracked, leaking in spirals of cursed energy.
They fought.
And fought.
And fought.
Five minutes.
It felt like eternity.
Then—
Everything stopped.
The fog lifted.
And there, in the center of the battlefield, knelt Eron.
Unmoving.
Head bowed.
Silent.
The corruption had vanished.
Only a faint hum of mana echoed through the shattered dungeon.
Everyone stood still.
Panting.
Bleeding.
But alive.
"We... we did it," Kyle breathed, almost disbelieving. "We finally defeated him..."
Relief washed over them like rain.
But at that mont...
A final surge of corruption exploded outward like a dying scream. From the blood crystal on Eron’s chest, raw power lashed like tendrils through the air.
"Look out!" Vincent shouted. "It’s not over!"
They braced—but the mana ca too fast.
And then—
Everything stopped.
Ti itself seed to freeze as Luca moved.
He didn’t understand it. Didn’t command it.
But his hands knew.
White saber— his body glowed. For a mont, everything stilled. The world itself paused, the chaos halted.
Black saber— he moved. A single slash. Like a rift carved through space and ti. A void of shimring light followed the trail, like moonlight cutting through ink.
SHRACK—
The corrupted blast shattered.
And so did the blood crystal embedded deep within Eron’s chest.
A cleave like the end of all things—cutting through the corrupted sky, the blood crystal, and fate itself.
Silence.
And then—
The crystal shattered.
A soft thud echoed as Eron collapsed like a falling tree.
Luca’s legs buckled. His body dropped, gasping for breath. But he crawled forward.
Crawled to the man who had once taught him how to hold a blade.
Eron looked up—barely. Blood pooled from his lips, but his eyes were calm now.
"You..." he rasped, "You freed ... Thank you... child."
From his chest, he pulled out sothing small—a broken piece of a silver brooch, its center cracked, but still faintly glowing.
He pressed it into Luca’s palm. "Let this... remind you... of who you are. No matter how dark it gets."
And then he closed his eyes.
His last breath was a whisper:
"Mirelle..."
Gone.
Luca clutched the brooch, tears slipping silently down his face.
And then—
He too collapsed.
The dungeon was quiet.
But hearts were not.
They had all seen sothing that day.
Not just a battle
.
But a soul... blackened by grief, yet still burning with love.
And a boy...
Who reached into that darkness—
And brought the light back.
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