The boy holding Princess Marianne descended slowly, his boots touching the shattered ground of the arena. The silence that followed was heavier than steel—no one dared to move, breathe, or speak. His voice, calm yet commanding, echoed through the air.

  “I am Shadow,” he said, his golden eyes gleaming beneath his hood. “Emperor of the Shadow Realm: Shadow of Creation and the real ruler of Obsidian Heaven of Silhouette. We are the real deal. Not losers like those who take hostages to prove their worth.”

  He paused, letting the words settle like thunder before a storm. His faint smile deepened. “I guess I don’t have to prove myself. My appearance is enough, isn’t it… Mr. Fake?”

  The atmosphere trembled.

  As if answering his declaration, the girls in sleek black bodysuits and the six figures surrounding the cube straightened their stance. In perfect unison, they repeated his words, their voices layered with pride and unshakable resolve:

  ? “We are Obsidians — the unyielding force of darkness that shapes the light.

  We are the Obsidian Heaven of Silhouette — where Shadows rise and legends are forged.”

  Their chorus echoed through every corner of the arena, a hauntingly beautiful sound of loyalty and power.

  The six figures stepped forward one by one, introducing themselves with divine confidence:

  ? “Radiant Blade of Shadows.”

  ? “Arcane Empress of Shadows.”

  ? “Ethereal Innovator of Shadows.”

  ? “Strategic Luminary of Shadows.”

  ? “Sage Princess of Shadows.”

  ? “Phantom Huntress of Shadows.”

  Each name carried its own weight—titles earned through battles that ordinary people couldn’t even imagine.

  Shadow’s expression darkened as he turned his gaze toward the cube that had once imprisoned a woman. “The one you captured,” he said coldly, “is Shadow’s Divine Matriarch Goddess. It’s really unforgivable… so as you’ve messed with the wrong person…”

  He tilted his head, his tone sharpening into a knife’s edge. “Villanea.”

  Gasps filled the air. Every noble, every hero, even the queen herself looked horrified. Villanea? But he was supposed to be dead!

  Shadow smiled faintly, a knowing, almost amused curve on his lips. He approached the fake “leader” who had been boasting minutes ago. With one fluid movement, his hand glowed with obsidian light, and he sliced off the man’s mask.

  The mask fell, shattering against the marble floor.

  Light revealed the face beneath—Duke Villanea himself.

  The crowd erupted into chaos. Shock, disbelief, and fear tangled in the air. Marianne covered her mouth, her eyes wide.

  Villanea staggered back, trembling. “Y-you—how are you—”

  Shadow’s voice was soft, yet terrifyingly calm. “Hell Magic: Miseries of the Unknown World.”

  From Villanea’s own shadow, countless dark, skeletal hands burst forth—ghastly, clawed, and dripping with shadow mist. They grabbed his arms, his legs, his face—dragging him down into the black abyss below.

  “W-wait! No! STOP! NOOO—!”

  His screams echoed for only a moment before they were swallowed whole. The ground darkened, then stilled. Villanea was gone—consumed by his own shadow.

  A heavy silence followed.

  Then, panic spread. The general audience screamed and ran, terrified by what they had witnessed. Soldiers dropped their weapons. Nobles scrambled toward the exits.

  But amid the chaos, the seven figures of the true Obsidian Heaven of Silhouette stood motionless—an unshakable monument of power and pride.

  Shadow looked down at the spot where Villanea had vanished, his voice low but resonant.

  “The era of deceivers ends here. The true shadows have returned.”

  The arena that had once roared with cheers was now nothing but a hollow shell of echoes and dread. Dust drifted in the air. The nobles had fled, terrified of the name Obsidian Heaven of Silhouette—a name that had shaken the empire to its core.

  Only a few remained.

  The Cardinal Heroes stood their ground, their weapons gleaming with divine light. Queen Gizelotte, calm yet fierce, observed from her throne-like seat, her eyes narrowing. Prime Minister Heron stood beside her, sweat gliding down his temple, though he tried to hide his unease. Princess Marianne’s knights—Chelsea, Sheele, Himan, and Maika—formed a protective circle near their princess, their eyes darting between Shadow and the Obsidian soldiers who now surrounded the arena.

  The tension was unbearable—until it shattered.

  A cry tore through the silence.

  “AMAHIKO!!”

  Deathes lunged forward like lightning, her blade cutting through the wind with deadly precision. Her tears glittered under the sunlight, rage and heartbreak in every movement.

  Shadow didn’t move. His hand lifted lazily—just a single finger. Clink!

  The sword stopped mid-swing.

  A spark of pure disbelief flashed across everyone’s faces.

  Deathes trembled. Her voice cracked with sorrow, “Why… why does it have to be you, Amahiko? Why are you standing there… as Shadow?”

  Her words echoed across the arena.

  A murmur spread among the heroes. Even the Obsidian soldiers paused, their black armor reflecting the light of burning torches. The Cardinal Heroes looked at Shadow in shock, their hearts pounding.

  Queen Gizelotte frowned, confused. “Amahiko…? Who is that?” she whispered to Heron.

  Heron hesitated, unable to answer. He didn’t know what was more terrifying—the revelation or the calm smile Shadow still wore.

  A faint smirk tugged at Shadow’s lips. “Guess the mask’s fallen, huh?”

  With a flick of his hand, a wave of black mana surged forward, striking Deathes. She barely dodged, rolling across the cracked floor as the air burned around her.

  Shadow slowly descended from the air, his cloak fluttering. He set Princess Marianne gently onto her feet. “Stay close,” he said quietly.

  Marianne’s heart pounded so fast it hurt. She didn’t understand everything—but when she looked at him, she could feel it. The same warmth, the same aura that once drew her in.

  Her knights rushed to her side instantly.

  Chelsea and Sheele, their disguises melting away, revealed their true forms—beautiful, lethal, and loyal. Their aura of darkness clashed against the light of the royal soldiers, each breath charged with battle tension.

  Behind them, Himan and Maika drew their weapons, ready to defend their princess even if it meant dying in that moment.

  Meanwhile, the Obsidian soldiers, those who had remained silent, began clashing with the royal knights. Their movements were swift—too swift. The clangs of blades and bursts of mana turned the once-festive arena into a warzone.

  Shadow turned his head slightly and spoke in a cold, commanding tone, “Ririsa, Claire—take Alice back to base.”

  “Yes, my lord,” the two girls said in perfect harmony.

  With a flick of his hand, the cube imprisoning Alice cracked and shattered like glass. Time resumed for her. Alice collapsed, weak but alive. Shadow caught her gently and handed her over to Ririsa.

  “Take care of her,” he said softly.

  The girls nodded. Then, wrapping themselves in black mist, they vanished—teleporting back to the Obsidian base.

  Now only four shadows remained beside him: Angelica, Sayo, Beta, and Gamma. Each of them took their position, the air around them pulsing with dark energy.

  Across the battlefield, the Cardinal Heroes regrouped around Deathes, their leader. Her breathing was heavy, her eyes blazing with conflict and pain.

  Heron finally found his voice and shouted from the stands, “Your Majesty! That’s him! The one who destroyed the Crimson Outpost! The one who defied the Church!”

  Queen Gizelotte didn’t flinch. Instead, her gaze focused sharply on Amahiko—on Shadow. There was no hatred in her eyes, only a silent recognition. A ruler’s instinct told her: This man isn’t an enemy driven by greed or chaos. He’s someone who fights for something deeper.

  She crossed her legs and leaned forward, her voice low.

  “Then show me, Shadow of Creation. Show me why the world trembles before you.”

  Shadow smirked beneath his hood. “As you wish, your majesty…”

  The wind shifted. The air itself felt heavier.

  He raised his sword, its obsidian edge gleaming with a dark flame. His four shadows moved behind him, their mana synchronizing like a dark orchestra.

  Amahiko—now fully revealed as Shadow—lowered his stance, eyes glowing gold.

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  “Let’s start the show.”

  And the next instant—

  The entire arena exploded into battle.

  The atmosphere around me was frozen—like time itself held its breath.

  Queen Gizelotte, the proud ruler of this empire, was about to call her knight—Cease. But when her gaze turned toward her side, he wasn’t there.

  He was kneeling.

  Before me.

  The sound of her breath caught. Gasps echoed around the arena.

  “Cease…” Gizelotte’s voice trembled slightly—not in fear, but disbelief. “What are you doing?”

  Cease said nothing. His eyes, usually sharp with loyalty, were filled with calm obedience.

  That calmness only enraged her further.

  In a flash, she summoned her sword—its crimson aura cutting through the tension. “Serparian!”

  The blade screamed as it swung toward me, glowing with her royal magic.

  But before it could reach, Cease moved—his own sword blocking hers with a clang that shook the ground.

  Sparks scattered between them.

  “Why… why are you siding with him?!” Gizelotte demanded, her voice echoing across the ruined arena.

  I placed my hand gently on Cease’s left shoulder.

  “You’ve done enough,” I said quietly.

  His body shimmered like water, rippling, melting—then disappearing entirely.

  Gizelotte’s eyes widened. “He… vanished?!”

  I smiled faintly. “You never realized, did you? That wasn’t Cease. That was Crave, my shadow clone.”

  Her sword wavered slightly. “You…”

  I took a step forward. My voice softened—almost tender.

  “Mom, aren’t you going to wish me a happy birthday?”

  She froze.

  “What…?”

  “Mom?” she repeated, disbelief shattering her tone. “What are you talking about? I don’t have any son.”

  I chuckled quietly, shaking my head. “After abandoning me seventeen years ago, you can’t possibly imagine I’d still be alive, right?”

  Her pupils trembled.

  “But…” I continued, raising my left hand, “…you recognize this star, don’t you?”

  A glowing mark pulsed under my skin—a celestial pattern intertwined with veins of light.

  Gizelotte’s sword lowered slightly. Her lips parted, her voice trembling. “How… how can you possibly be living?”

  Behind her, I heard faint whispers—Deathes’s voice, shaken, breaking through the silence. “Amahiko… is her Highness’s son?”

  Marianne gasped, her hand over her mouth. Her eyes darted between me and the queen, her heartbeat echoing in the air. My… little brother?—I could almost read the thought in her expression.

  Even Heron, the ever-calm Prime Minister, was drenched in sweat. His face turned pale, his knees slightly trembling.

  I smiled bitterly. “Don’t be surprised. Thanks to you, I found a good mother like Notalia, loyal servants like the Silver Dragon Monarch and the Nine-tail White Fox. I also found the life I always desired.”

  I paused, my tone softening to a whisper.

  “So I have no grudge against you, Mother Gizelotte.”

  But her answer wasn’t calm—it was an explosion of rage and confusion.

  “Don’t call me that!” she screamed, rushing forward, swinging Serparian again.

  The blade clashed against mine with a ringing cry. The ground cracked under the pressure of our mana.

  I looked straight into her eyes. “But why can’t you recognize me after spending a whole year with Cease?”

  Her attack faltered.

  “How could you not notice?” I continued, stepping closer, our swords locked. “Same face. Same aura. Same power.”

  Her eyes widened further with every word I spoke.

  “I even spent a night with you… in my real body,” I whispered, my voice sharp enough to pierce through her soul, “…and you already forgot me.”

  Her sword shook. Her grip loosened.

  A single tear rolled down her cheek as memories flooded her mind—the moments that had felt off, the subtle warmth she couldn’t explain, the familiarity she ignored.

  Regret flooded her expression.

  If she hadn’t abandoned her son that day—if she had chosen differently—perhaps this confrontation would never have happened. Perhaps… he wouldn’t stand before her as an enemy now.

  I walked past her slowly, her sword falling to the side. She didn’t stop me. She couldn’t.

  Heron flinched as I approached. I could feel his fear radiating off him like heat.

  Without a word, I raised my sword.

  He met my strike head-on, blocking it just as I expected.

  Our blades clashed—steel against steel—and the next act of this tragedy began.

  The fight had been a dance of persistent, low-level strikes. My katana, a shimmering extension of pure mana, sliced through the air, and I kept up the barrage. Slice, slice, slice. One by one, my attacks came, not for immediate damage, but to test, to wear down. Heron was my target, and he was blocking every single one, the strain etched onto his face. He was barely keeping pace with my relentless, yet uncommitted, assault.

  Then, the complication: the Deathes joined the fray. They flanked me, a pincer movement of blades and shadows. I was forced to dodge and parry, blocking the strikes from both sides while maintaining pressure on Heron. It became a messy, three-way engagement.

  Suddenly, the whole atmosphere changed. Mother Gizelotte drew her own sword. Her eyes were alight with a fierce, cold resolve, and her attack on me wasn’t a skirmish—it was a declaration. She was coming to kill.

  This was no longer a warm-up. I became serious.

  I sidestepped past the two Deathes, a blur of motion. One moment I was there, the next I was gone, only to reappear behind Mother Gizelotte. I struck—a quick, sharp blow—which she instinctively blocked. Before she could counter, I disappeared again.

  The next moment, I was attacking her from the front. She blocked it with a flash of exceptional reflex, but her focus was now fragmented, her eyes desperately trying to track my phantom movements. She had lost sight of me.

  That’s when I struck. I appeared in front of Heron and delivered a blindingly fast blow. He couldn’t react in time. He coughed blood and was sent slamming into the arena’s wall. He was out of the immediate fight, left reeling and off-guard.

  The two women, Mother Gizelotte and one of the Deathes, tried to press their advantage, attacking me simultaneously. I simply disappeared again.

  When I rematerialized, I was directly in front of the other Deathes. Without hesitation, I delivered a powerful kick that launched her high into the sky. I followed her ascent in a flash, appearing above her. As she tumbled, I kicked at her belly. She desperately managed to block the blow with her sword, but the sheer force of the strike was too much to absorb. She plummeted, a screaming meteor, and slammed into the ground, leaving a small crater.

  I turned my attention back to Mother Gizelotte. In one swift movement, I grabbed her, lifting her clear off the ground, and threw her at the downed Deathes. They collided in a tangle of limbs and armor. I walked over and placed a foot directly on top of them, channeling a tremendous amount of gravitational force through my step. They screamed, utterly pinned and crushed by the sudden, impossible weight. They wouldn’t be moving anytime soon.

  I turned and walked toward Heron. He was already on his feet, fully recovered from the earlier blow, his eyes focused and intense.

  I looked him straight in the eye and said, “The fight has just started.”

  The sound of steel clashing against steel echoed through the arena, followed by the low hum of magic thrumming in the air. Dust scattered as two powerful forces collided — Beta and Gamma stood at the center, facing off against Kei, Tifa, and Taiga.

  Kei gripped his spear tightly, its tip crackling with Storm Vein, a lightning attribute enchantment that amplified both speed and precision. Tifa had her twin daggers drawn, shimmering with a faint purple glow — her Void Edge enchantment allowed her to slice through mana fields with ease. Behind them, Taiga stood firm, his enormous shield gleaming gold, protected by the Aegis Core, a divine artifact that nullified most elemental attacks.

  On the other side, Beta and Gamma took their stances — each mirroring the way I trained them. Both wielded katanas infused with their mana, but unlike me, they seamlessly combined swordsmanship and magic in perfect harmony.

  Beta’s voice rang out softly, “Dark Flare: Abyssal Bloom.”

  Dark petals spun from her blade, swirling around Kei and Tifa like a deadly storm. The magic pulled in light, dimming everything in its radius. Kei reacted quickly, sweeping his spear in a circular motion to disperse the petals with a surge of electricity.

  “Not bad,” Gamma muttered beside her, smirking. “But let’s not make this easy for them.”

  She lifted her hand, summoning three glowing orbs that rotated around her sword — Light Burst: Solar Veil, Earth Tremor: Gaia’s Roar, and Wind Slash: Tempest Fang.

  The ground cracked open as glowing fissures ran across the battlefield, dust flying into the air as wind blades spiraled outward. Kei barely dodged, using his spear’s reach to vault himself above the blast. Tifa darted between the falling debris, her daggers slicing through the wind, while Taiga slammed his shield into the ground, shouting,

  “Aegis Barrier: Titan’s Resolve!”

  A shimmering dome of light expanded outward, blocking the oncoming shockwave. The earth’s tremor ceased as the impact was absorbed by the barrier.

  Beta wasn’t done. She switched elements mid-swing — Aqua Surge: Leviathan’s Flow — sending waves of condensed water mana rushing toward the barrier. Steam hissed as Taiga’s shield glowed red-hot from the collision.

  Before the steam cleared, Beta’s eyes flared crimson.

  “Hellfire Bloom: Infernal Dance!”

  Flames burst from beneath her feet, spinning upward into a spiral that melted through the steam, creating fiery petals that rained across the arena. The flames clashed with Tifa’s daggers as she twirled through them, each step cutting through fire trails with her Void Edge.

  Gamma dashed beside Beta, her light magic enhancing her speed — Radiant Step: Lumina Shift. She moved like a flash, appearing before Kei in an instant. Their weapons clashed — his spear and her katana sparking violently.

  Kei growled, “You two really are his disciples.”

  “And you really don’t hold back,” Gamma smirked, pushing back with another swing.

  Tifa appeared behind her, daggers slicing through the air, but Beta intercepted just in time, her katana clanging against Tifa’s. Sparks illuminated their fierce expressions.

  The sound of battle intensified — fire roared, earth rumbled, wind howled, and lightning cracked. Each of them was a whirlwind of movement and precision.

  Taiga raised his shield once more, defending both Kei and Tifa as Beta and Gamma unleashed another wave of combined spells —

  “Darkness + Light Fusion: Eclipse Breaker!”

  The arena shuddered under the power. Taiga’s shield barely held against the combined surge of radiance and shadow.

  Through the golden glow of the shield, I could see the reflection of all five warriors — panting, sweating, yet smiling.

  They were all giving everything they had.

  The battle had reached a point where neither side could afford a mistake — every step, every spell, every clash was a heartbeat away from disaster.

  None of them were backing down.

  The storm of creation and chaos continued to rage.

  The clash of magic and steel tore through the battlefield like thunder. Dust danced in the air, illuminated by bursts of mana that painted the sky in every shade imaginable. On one side, Angelica and Sayo stood with calm focus; on the other, Akira, Mayuka, and Rion unleashed their might.

  Rion’s eyes gleamed with unrestrained fury. The tip of his wand pulsed with seven distinct hues, swirling like a vortex of chaos.

  “All-Elemental Convergence: Origin Burst!” he shouted.

  From his wand, an array of magic erupted — fire blazing like the sun, water twisting into serpentine waves, wind forming invisible blades, earth rising as jagged pillars, lightning crackling through the air, ice freezing everything it touched, and darkness spreading like ink.

  I could feel the pressure even from afar.

  Sayo, however, stood unwavering. Her voice was calm, sharp, and resolute.

  “Arcane Synthesis: Sevenfold Barrier!”

  Seven luminous circles of different colors formed before her, each countering Rion’s element.

  ? The Azure Wall of Tides met his flames.

  ? The Crimson Aegis of Ember melted his frost.

  ? The Emerald Gale Shield deflected his lightning.

  ? The Obsidian Ground Ward absorbed his earth spikes.

  ? The Silver Flash Veil countered his darkness.

  ? The Golden Halo of Radiance broke through his shadows.

  ? And the Violet Mirror of Balance reflected the excess mana back at him.

  The battlefield exploded in color, the impact shaking the ground. Rion gritted his teeth, pushing his wand forward as he merged all seven elements once again into a roaring sphere of destructive energy.

  Sayo spread her arms and whispered, “Celestial Harmony: Divine Pulse!”

  The shield around her rippled, sending waves of mana outward like expanding ripples on a pond. The energy met Rion’s blast midair — the collision created a shockwave so powerful that it carved a crater into the ground.

  Meanwhile, Angelica faced Akira.

  Both held their blades in perfect stance, eyes locked.

  Akira lunged first, her sword enveloped in Blazing Aura: Crimson Saber. The flames trailed behind her like a comet. Angelica countered with her sword glowing faintly blue — Frost Dance: Azure Waltz.

  When their blades met, fire and ice clashed, creating bursts of steam that obscured their movements. They vanished within the mist, only to reappear with every clang of steel. Each strike carried precision and intent — Akira’s strength and emotion versus Angelica’s calm and grace.

  “Still as composed as ever, Angelica,” Akira said between breaths.

  “And you still let emotion control your blade,” Angelica replied softly, parrying another fiery swing.

  They pushed each other back simultaneously, both panting lightly, their swords trembling from the force of their clash.

  From behind, Mayuka raised her bow, pulling the string to her cheek. Her eyes glowed with focus.

  “Starlight Arrow: Comet Barrage!”

  Dozens of glowing arrows shot across the sky like meteors, streaking toward Angelica and Sayo.

  “Not today,” Sayo muttered, forming hand signs rapidly.

  “Sanctuary Ward: Radiant Dome!”

  A shimmering dome of golden light surrounded them. The arrows struck it one by one, each impact flashing bright as sparks flew off the barrier. But Mayuka’s assault didn’t stop; she leapt into the air, pulling her bow once again.

  “Celestial Draw: Luna’s Descent!”

  A single silver arrow formed — larger, sharper, and vibrating with divine power. It tore through the air, splitting the sky in two.

  Sayo braced herself, reinforcing her shield. Angelica ran beside her, raising her sword. Together, they struck the incoming arrow — Sayo’s barrier absorbed the force while Angelica’s blade cleaved through its core. The explosion that followed turned the battlefield white.

  When the light faded, both sides were standing, battered but smiling.

  Angelica looked toward Akira again. Their blades gleamed faintly under the residual mana.

  Sayo and Rion’s magic still clashed in the air like dueling storms, thunder and flame swirling above them.

  The battle wasn’t over — it had only reached its crescendo.

  And from where I stood, watching the chaos unfold, I could feel it…

  The true power of their determination.