Wail

+++

Kaboooom!

Bang, cracklecrackle—

A violet explosion ripped across the battlefield sky. The clashing spellcasters Oz and the Lion King turned the heavens upside down.

Kwaaaaaah—!

On the ground, the central battlefield raged no less fiercely. The Citadel Lord’s fists pounded the earth relentlessly.

“Hey, wanna dance? Where are you aiming those strikes, hmm?”

Facing him, Lilith seemed far more relaxed than against Brudhild. Unlike Brudhild, the Citadel Lord lacked meaningful resistance to mental attacks, struggling considerably against Lilith.

“Come here! Attacking from that distance, you’ll never hit! Kyahahahah—”

“…”

He was also hindered by needing to protect the fallen Brudhild behind him.

But the situation shifted as the grayish frozen world manifested.

Woooong—

“Huh?”

The rain and air stilled.

Sensing the ominous shift, Lilith turned her head, the Citadel Lord halting his strikes mid-motion.

Shortly after, they sensed one Vanguard Commander’s presence vanish.

“…”

“Truly, an astonishing skeleton.”

Lilith’s expression hardened while the Citadel Lord flashed a wry smile.

Tap tap tap tap…

“Lilith, the…”

“Ah, you startled me!”

Oz appeared behind Lilith.

The Citadel Lord looked skyward. The Lion King still battled Oz’s myriad clones, seemingly all mere phantasms.

Unmatched in sheer output on the continent, he nonetheless could not contend with the millennia-old Demigod’s techniques.

“We should… retreat… and regroup at the final line of… defense…”

“…”

Retreat.

At that dreaded word’s utterance, Lilith gnawed her lower lip. The Demon Lord’s forces, routed and retreating.

A century ago, she had suffered that same nightmare – forced to cede a path towards the Demon Lord to the Alliance.

“…The final line? We are the final one. The last Vanguard Commanders guarding our Lord… Ah?”

“He still… remains…”

“But even so, only three Vanguard Commanders. We lack any specialized anti-Războlnic Commanders…”

“Surely, the Great One’s… arrangements… are in place…”

The Citadel Lord took heed of Oz’s words.

‘Arrangements?’

As if some mere Vanguard Commander like Satan, not even a Saint, could arrange anything against this?

“Prepare… to teleport…”

“…”

Lilith finally nodded, and they took flight towards the Demon Lord’s Citadel.

“Where do you think you’re goinggggg—!!”

Twang!

Accompanied by a roar, Heineken came charging from the frontlines, unleashing a Thrown Spear strike.

But Oz’s completed spell teleported them away before the projectile could reach, the spear piercing only empty air.

“Damn, shit…!”

Heineken clenched his fists in frustration, but the Citadel Lord calmly watched their departure.

‘From the start… pursuing them would have been futile.’

Brudhild had achieved meteoric late-bloom growth to surpass both Monarchs, aided by his matchup advantage over Lilith – that was how he had triumphed.

All four Vanguard Commanders slain this war were feats of Lord Enoch and the enigmatic skeleton. Outside the Citadel, the surviving Vanguard Commanders remained formidable adversaries.

“Huhh, retreat—ahh!”

Deprived of commanders, the Demonic forces withdrew in disarray. But the Alliance would not let them escape so easily.

“Hmm!”

The Lion King raised both arms skyward.

[Hellfire Elemental Sorcery: Elemental Unification – Purgatory]

Fwooooosh—!

“Hiiik…!”

“St-Stop! Cease your advance!”

A towering wall of raging flames erupted behind the retreating Demonic forces, blocking their withdrawal.

“This can’t be…!”

“Where are our Commanders?! Where are the Vanguard Commanders?!”

Oz and Lilith had no intention of concerning themselves with mere foot soldiers. They were preoccupied with their own survival, devoid of camaraderie as the most vicious beings.

“There are no more Vanguard Commanders! Wipe out the remnants!”

“Waaaaaah—!!”

Without their Vanguard Commanders, the Demonic forces stood no chance against the combined Alliance including all its Heroes. The battlefield swiftly concluded.

“We are victorious! All hail Lord Războlnic!!”

“Oo, ooooooh! All hail! All hail!!”

Thus, the total war between the Demonic and Alliance forces concluded in a resounding Alliance victory.

+++

“So it has come to this.”

“Indeed.”

Doyun and Vyuskr walked across the battlefield amidst the post-battle proceedings, reminiscing on times past as they steeled their resolve.

“We have… reached the Demon Lord once more.”

Having routed the entirety of the Demonic forces, Doyun’s final destination was the last location – the Demon Lord’s Citadel.

There remained only two unanswered questions he had failed to glean from Azure and Crimson.

‘Just what…’

Doyun briefly lost himself in contemplation before Vyuskr’s voice snapped him from his reverie.

“This life, I survive to fight alongside you.”

“Hm? Ah. Now that you mention it, so it is.”

They felt immensely moved yet tinged with melancholy, thoughts turning to their absent comrade.

In the end, the three would never stand united for this final battle. So they mused.

“…I miss that bastard.”

“…”

Uncharacteristically sentimental words left Vyuskr’s mouth.

They briefly mourned Heckleous’ demise, but not for long. For now, they advanced towards the climax.

“Though in this form I cannot join you at the Demon Lord’s Citadel… I believe you alone will suffice.”

Like all denizens of the continent, Vyuskr voiced his faith in Doyun.

“Once more, deliver this land from calamity. Războlnic.”

“…”

His friend’s lingering words made Doyun keenly sense the imminent conclusion.

“…I will.”

As he had many times before across countless iterations, Doyun gave a light reply.

As they entered the central battlefield, recognizing the pair, a general hurriedly approached.

“Allegiance! Great Lord Războl…”

“Dispense with formalities. Report the situation.”

“A-Ah, yes, sir!”

The general recited the collated battle report. Doyun continued walking as the trailing general relayed the details.

Hundreds of thousands of soldiers, tens of thousands of Paladins had perished valiantly in this grand clash. Corpses littered the surroundings.

While a resounding victory that had eliminated the enemy forces after slaying four Vanguard Commanders, their own situation was equally dire. Moreover, Doyun himself was severely depleted.

‘We will need to regroup and refit once.’

Vyuskr listened alongside Doyun as the general continued his report, occasionally glancing at the skeletal figure yet not pausing.

Though an unidentified undead, Vyuskr had Lord Enoch’s trust and proven instrumental this war – certainly not one a mere ten-thousand-man commander could presume to address recklessly.

“…Also, we failed to apprehend Vanguard Commanders Oz and Lilith!”

“Of course those two slipped away, the most troublesome bunch.”

Having relayed the broad strokes and major details, the general neared the end of his report.

“Lastly, one of our Heroes lingers between life and death!”

“Between life and death, you say?”

“Part of their heart was cleaved! Our greatest healers and mages strive mightily, but the prognosis is effectively zero!”

“…Recover the remains, and prepare a grand funerary rite following our impending regroup.”

Doyun did not take it heavily. The death of comrades was commonplace for him.

Though unable to take vengeance next iteration as before, the entire continent would laud their honored demise.

And their death would serve to unify the Alliance’s resolve before the coming battle at the Demon Lord’s Citadel, elevating them eternally as a rallying symbol for Doyun the Regression Turner and the continent’s future.

As always, Doyun remained coldly pragmatic in his outlook. Vyuskr was no different.

Yet the subsequent report brought them to an abrupt halt.

“Yes! I shall report to His Excellency the Lion King as well. We shall prepare the grand funerary rites for Lord Războlnic, Lord Brudhild Vyuskr!”

Thud.

“…What?”

Shhhhhhh—

As the report and footsteps halted, the intensifying rain drowned out the ensuing silence.

Doyun and Vyuskr stared at the general uncomprehendingly.

“Y-Yes, sir?”

The mood turning glacial in an instant, the flustered general faltered in his words. He knew neither the skeletal figure’s identity nor its relationship to Lord Enoch and Lord Brudhild, only bewilderment.

“Wh-Why those expressions? Have I… made some m-mistake…?”

“What did you just say.”

The rasping voice prompted him lowly yet urgently.

The previously taciturn skeleton’s sudden speech made the general jolt.

“Sir?”

“What did you just…”

“There is no hope.”

At the gloomy voice from ahead, Doyun and Vyuskr turned their gazes.

A cluster had formed around something, mostly comprising high-ranking Alliance figures – Heroes, elite Paladins including Elrois, and healers still pouring forth their arts.

A high-ranking cleric healer shook his head grimly.

“Any further healing or emergency treatment risks shock from overheal syndrome. We have exhausted all measures, but revival is impossible even within a royal citadel’s facilities, let alone here.”

“Ah…”

The Paladins channeling healing stepped back, opening a gap amidst the crowd – revealing the object at its center to Doyun and Vyuskr’s eyes.

A man, lying atop a pool of blood.

Comprehending the situation, Doyun squeezed his eyes shut. Vyuskr, expressionless, simply gazed with his pitch-black empty sockets.

“…Vyuskr.”

“…”

No response came.

Though having endured countless agonies over the years, Doyun found this silence unbearably, horrifyingly cruel.

Eventually, Vyuskr broke into a run towards the crowd’s center.

The man lying there was…

“Everyone, join hands and bid farewell to this great Hero on their…”

“Nooooooooooooo—!!!”

The wailing cry of a skeletal father.