episode_0014

The Undying Monarch, Durhan.

He gathered all the deathly power he possessed and summoned a massive pillar of flame. The swirling, colossal ashen fireball atop his greatsword looked as though he had compressed the sun itself into his grasp.

Descending upon him was a sacred aura, one capable of purging all that was impure. It was nothing less than a mass of golden divine energy.

It’s not the strong who survive, but the survivors who become strong. A tale he had heard long ago suddenly resurfaced in Durhan’s mind.

By that logic, he—who had fought countless heroes and saints yet still lived—was stronger than any hero’s party.

An undefeated warrior who had survived endless battles against those who shaped the fate of the world—that was who he was.

The warrior who knew no defeat swung his greatsword. Infused with the power of the Death Lord, a sword that had once been wielded countless times by a mere human now clashed against the blade of the divine.

KWAARRRGH!

The collision of divine and deathly forces erupted into catastrophic devastation. Even as the once column-like fissure warped into a sphere from the shockwave, neither the mage nor the warrior retreated.

Their ultimate attacks were nearly equal in strength. But it was the difference in their affinities that decided the outcome.

The divine energy suppressed the power of death, smothering the flames. The divine blade pierced straight through the fire, aimed at the unholy being, the undead.

Durhan’s greatsword shattered under the force. Not satisfied, the divine blade impaled the undead’s body. A storm of golden light ravaged his form.

“GRAAAAAAAH!”

Whether from the frustration of defeat or the sheer toll of the battle, Durhan, for the first time, let out a piercing scream.

HSSSSSSS— His armor hissed like a scorching pot. The gauntlet that once seemed unbreakable was now riddled with cracks, and even his ribs were snapped in half.

This is the end. Marine internally called the match.

But Arina didn’t let her guard down. If she didn’t sever this persistent evil here and now, the defeat of the Demon King would remain a distant dream.

Maybe this is the final duty of a mage in a hero’s party. With that thought, she poured the last of her mana into one final blade of judgment—and dropped it.

The divine sword struck Durhan as he struggled to steady himself. The moment the golden blade met his obsidian armor—

Wriggle.

A thick black mist oozed from Durhan’s body. Arina’s blade halted mid-air, as if seized by the fog, refusing to erupt into its signature golden explosion.

Did it… block divine energy?

Arina frowned at the anomaly.

“What the hell…?”

After claiming he’d fight seriously, he still had something like this stored?

The black mist and the divine blade clashed, sparks flying as they eroded away at each other. The first to falter was Arina’s sword. With no mana left, she couldn’t follow through.

“Marine! Run—” “Arina, look out!”

A chill slithered down her spine. It wasn’t just instinct—Durhan, still spewing miasma, was now standing behind her.

“When did he—?!”

Had he slipped past in the split-second she looked away at Marine?

Her shock froze her. Having spent all her mana, she had no way to counter. A fist wreathed in black mist hurtled toward her head, intent on crushing it.

Clenching her eyes shut, she raised her arms defensively—

CRACK.

She heard impact, but no pain followed. Opening her eyes, she saw Marine blocking Durhan’s strike.

“Marine, you…?”

The black mist crawled up Marine’s arm like it had consumed the divine blade, but she endured it with reinforced mana.

“Arina! Don’t worry about me—just run!”

Arina didn’t waste time asking, “Then what about you?” She had learned from their adventures—sometimes, buying time for the wounded to escape was necessary.

They’d talked about this before. Luckily, both Marine and Arina had the skills to flee after stalling.

Their eyes met. Without moving her head, Arina flicked her gaze left. Then she immediately spun and bolted away.

The direction she fled was a feint—the real rendezvous point was where she had signaled. A simple trick, but enough to lose any pursuer and regroup.

As she ran, Arina glanced back at Durhan. The red glow in his hollow eyes had vanished.

Something’s wrong… This isn’t the Durhan I know.

WHIP!

A burning lash struck her from behind. With a yelp, Arina was sent sprawling.

“KYAH!”

As she skidded across the ground, pristine white legs stopped before her.

“My, my. For the infamous Liel Frost, your scream is rather cute, isn’t it?”

Arina’s eyes narrowed. The high-pitched voice she spoke in now had haunted her ever since she became a woman.

But hearing her—a succubus, of all things—mock it? That was an insult too far.

Lilith smirked, twirling her whip as she looked down on Arina.

“You bitch—” “Tch. Acting tough with no mana left?”

A mage out of mana was no different from a bow without arrows or a man without his cock. But Lilith still had her physical prowess and whip—even if her charms didn’t work on mages.

Right now, she could personally defeat humanity’s strongest mage.

First, break her mind. Then bewitch her. Heheh.

If she enslaved Liel Frost, she’d be the next Succubus Queen. First, she needed to crush that arrogance.

“Let’s see how long you can keep those eyes open!”

Salivating at the thought, Lilith swung her whip.

She underestimated one thing: though Arina’s body was ordinary, her spirit wasn’t.

For the weak, sheer nerve mattered more than strength.

And Arina’s resolve could rival even a berserker’s.

“AHH! IT HURTS! IT HUUURTS!!!”

Lilith recoiled as Arina sank her teeth into her arm like a rabid beast.

“LET GO! LET—UGH!”

Finally freeing herself, Lilith teared up. Then, seeing the teeth marks on her arm, her rage reignited.

“Are you insane?! What, you think you’re a fucking dog?!” “You don’t know what crazy is yet. Try me—or piss off.”

Though bold, Arina wasn’t interested in finishing Lilith now. Winning or losing didn’t matter—she had to escape before Marine ran out of time.

Lilith thought the same. Earlier, she had been ready to flee when Durhan was crushed, but now the tides had turned.

Since that brawler woman couldn’t harm Durhan, delaying was their victory. Keeping Arina here wasn’t just for personal gain—it was strategy.

But after getting bitten, hesitation crept in. Like a cat’s scratch hurting despite its size, Arina’s ferocity unnerved her.

Arina wanted to flee but had to fight; Lilith wanted to fight but feared retaliation. A tense standoff ensued.

You’re not backing down, huh?

Refusing to waste time, Arina lunged into Lilith’s guard. CRACK! The whip lashed her cheek, but she didn’t stop. She pulled back her fist—dead center—and struck Lilith’s solar plexus.

“GUH—!”

The hit left Lilith gasping, bent over in pain. The whip slipped from her hand—Arina seized the chance and drove an elbow between her shoulder blades.

“KYYAAAH!”

Ignoring Lilith’s howls, Arina followed up with a punch to the face.

“Guh… You bitch—!”

The pain only fueled Lilith’s fury. Adrenaline drowned out fear—only rage remained. Grabbing Arina’s hair, she yanked her down and smashed their foreheads together.

Arina staggered back, both women tumbling into the dirt.

“Damn brute!” “Says the biter!”

Punches flew. Hair was pulled. Legs kicked wildly. Dust clung to their skin as they rolled in brutal, untrained blows.

But experience won out—Arina knew where to strike.

“Hurk!”

One last hit to Lilith’s weak point left her frothing at the mouth, eyes rolling back.

“Guess you weren’t so tough after all.”

Kicking dirt onto Lilith’s unconscious face, Arina sprinted off.