He was worried about Mamil’s condition, but assumed that his body had merely gone limp from exhaustion. Even if he was too tired to get up, it shouldn’t be critical. After all, Mamil had carved a path of fire through the Demon King’s spatial distortion for his sake. If he could save his strength for now, his condition would improve later. Cadel believed that. It was an utterly irresponsible delusion.

“Tea…… Teacher……”

Lying collapsed, Mamil was in a state far beyond anything Cadel had imagined. He looked horrific. Blood pooled beneath his head, and sparks flickered over his body. His form, soaked in blood and wounds like a crushed pomegranate, was entirely dyed red. Only the stark white of his hair gave away that this was Mamil.

Frozen as if struck from behind, Cadel stood rooted at the sight of his teacher’s ghastly figure. His eyes, rolling stiffly, turned toward Modeleine, who had been guarding Mamil. His gaze seemed to ask—What the hell is going on? Why aren’t you healing him? In response, Modeleine simply shook his head slowly.

“……Garuel. Garuel……! Fall back, now. Come here and heal Mr. Mamil…… Teacher, please! Hurry!”

Calling out to Garuel in desperation, Cadel ran over and knelt beside Mamil. Modeleine, instead of offering an explanation, moved forward, leaving them behind. Taking his place, Cadel wiped the blood from Mamil’s eyes and fumbled over his limp arms and shoulders. He tried desperately to find any sign of life.

In his confusion, Cadel yelled at Garuel, who had just spotted Mamil, to hurry up. But the moment Garuel left the front lines to heal Mamil—

“Kh……!”

A wind woven from demonic energy swept through violently, instantly filling the corridor. His vision darkened, and his body was blown back by the force. Amid the vicious demonic energy, Cadel held Mamil tightly and braced himself against the shaking.

“Please hang on, Teacher. Just a little longer……”

As he curled over Mamil’s limp body, shielding him, the faces of Hyron and Sorin flashed like lightning in his mind. Their final expressions as they were swallowed by the swamp of death. Their still faces and dim eyes overlapped with Mamil’s current state. To shake off that prophetic image, he bit down hard on his lip.

“Garuel……!”

“Knight Commander! Where are you? Say something! Call my name!”

“Garuel, Garuel, Garuel, please……!”

Separated within Emilia’s demonic energy, they couldn’t properly hear each other. Voices seemed to echo faintly from somewhere, but they couldn’t be pinpointed—neither who was speaking nor where they were.

Cadel despaired as Garuel failed to appear no matter how loudly he called. He tried not to cry, but the tears flowed on their own. He could feel it because they were touching. He knew—the life of the teacher he held in his arms didn’t have much time left.

And then Mamil, lying in the arms of his one and only disciple, whispered quietly.

“Will you let me see your face?”

At that raspy voice, thick with blood, Cadel lifted himself from where he had been pressed flat. His tear-streaked, messy face came into view. His expression was contorted, and snot and tears streamed down—he looked just like a child about to break into sobs. At that sorrowful face, Mamil gave a faint smile. Raising his loosely relaxed hand, he wiped Cadel’s nose and gently tugged on his earlobe.

“Teacher. You can’t close your eyes. Just a little longer. You can’t leave me behind. Okay? Please?”

What Mamil’s fingers had caught was the small magical tool that had always been fixed to Cadel’s ear. As he gently removed the earring, the color that had been taken from him gradually returned. The soft wheat-colored hair and the warm brown eyes that held a clear light. A face that, despite the strong will within, looked infinitely gentle and tender, fragile enough to bend under the slightest pressure. At the sight of Cadel’s true face, which he hadn’t seen in so long, the corner of Mamil’s lips trembled briefly.

“I took you in at first because you were Jenga’s bloodline.”

“No, no. Please save your strength. Just breathe. Don’t do anything else. I’ll bring Garuel somehow.”

He had only spoken a single sentence, yet Cadel shook his head in horror as if his teacher had just pulled out his own heart. But Mamil, though he couldn’t argue with his disciple’s dramatics, had no intention of closing his eyes. The howling demonic energy slashed at his cheek, and the roaring winds seemed to bore into his ears—but Mamil steadfastly continued.

“I put quite a bit of effort into you, in place of the old friend I couldn’t protect.”

“Teacher……. Please…….”

“Before I realized it, I’d grown quite fond of you. You, my one and only disciple, came to feel like a grandson. Or perhaps, a son.”

“Don’t speak like this is the end…….”

Cadel’s face, so much like Jenga’s. Even his air was reminiscent of Jenga’s youth. He always stirred a nostalgic ache in Mamil. Seeing Cadel brought back vivid memories of the days spent with Jenga.

But strangely, with death standing so close, Jenga no longer came to mind. The man reflected in Mamil’s eyes now wasn’t Jenga, but Cadel Lytos. A truly cherished disciple, the one he’d finally held dear after so long. He had once vowed never to grow attached to anyone again. And yet, this boy had broken that vow so easily, taking root within him.

“I was fated to live out my life in regret for failing to protect him. But if I can defy that bleak fate by offering the last of my life, then it is an honor.”

“No……. No, don’t say that. You’re not going to die, okay? You’re going to stay with me, right? Why do you keep saying things like this?!”

“Cadel. Look at me properly. Etch your teacher’s final moments into your eyes.”

He couldn’t bring himself to look. He didn’t want to believe this was Mamil’s end. He didn’t want to face reality. He thought Mamil would always be there to protect him—a reliable teacher, an eternal adult in his life. He had even shamelessly hoped that, if he ever left this world and his subordinates behind, Mamil might look after them from time to time.

Mamil had given him the strength to endure, dragged as he was into this world. He had offered wise counsel and real help. He had been a protective father at times, a kind grandfather at others, embracing Cadel unconditionally.

Would Mamil’s fate have changed if he had arrived a little sooner? If he had given up on killing the Demon King’s siblings? If he had ascended the castle from the beginning with the others, could he have protected Mamil? Maybe Sorin wouldn’t have died either. If he had chosen to end the war even a little faster, perhaps he could have saved more people.

The cost of his choices was heavy. So heavy that he could barely lift his head. Mamil gently patted his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t fight with you until the end. But be a better disciple than your teacher, and fight for what you desire.”

Even as he was dying, Mamil spoke each syllable with weight, wanting his words to reach Cadel clearly. And so, even amidst his tearful breakdown, Cadel could understand every word. It was agony. Mamil’s warmth, his tender concern for the future, his pure kindness—he poured it all onto this damnably pathetic disciple.

“I’m sorry. For coming so late. For being such a slow, useless disciple…… I’m really sorry.”

He couldn’t lift his head. He couldn’t look up to witness Mamil’s final moment. Though he barely managed to utter his apology, no reply came. The hand that had been patting his shoulder slowly fell. He knew what that meant. Cadel collapsed forward and held Mamil again, trying to feel the faint warmth still left in the unresponsive body.

A scream, raw and unlike anything he had ever uttered before, tore from his throat. But the corridor, swallowed by demonic energy, devoured even his grief. No one in that place could perceive Cadel’s pain.

* * *

“Leader……?”

The scream echoed vividly in Lumen’s ears, making his eyes narrow with focus. It was unmistakably Cadel’s voice, rising from the corridor now saturated with demonic energy.

‘That’s definitely Leader’s voice. What the hell is happening in there?’

It hadn’t been long since Cadel and Garuel had entered the corridor. Shortly afterward, Emilia had torn through space itself, scattering the demonic energy into the corridor. Lumen had immediately begun descending toward the now pitch-black corridor, but lacking flame magic, his fall took some time. Still, with everyone grouped up, he had expected nothing too serious to occur.

“Leader! What’s happening?! Van! Lydon! Sir Garuel! Yozen—! Someone, answer me!”

It was a scream Lumen had never heard before—raw, guttural, as if torn from the edge of despair. A sound made by someone flailing helplessly in unspeakable agony. What could possibly have happened to make Cadel suffer like that? Had someone died? But more than the death itself, Lumen feared the consequences of such a death on Cadel. Even knowing that made him seem cold, almost heartless, yet the thought remained.

Finally landing, Lumen threw himself into the corridor. Contrary to his fears, the demonic energy didn’t repel him—it accepted his presence without resistance. But the moment his feet touched the ground—

‘The wind—what insane force!’

The sheer gale tore at his entire body, far stronger than he’d imagined from a distance. Bracing himself against the corridor wall, Lumen dug in with hands and feet to withstand it. He raised an arm to shield his face, squinting hard just to see ahead.

The dense demonic energy made visibility poor. He could barely see a few meters ahead. Slowly, inching forward against the wind, Lumen began to search for Cadel. Anyone, really—he needed to regroup, gather strength. But the one who stepped into his path—

“How many should I kill first, I wondered. But since you came to me, I suppose I’ll start with you.”

Emilia.

She walked as if the storm didn’t exist—light on her feet, utterly unaffected. Her expression was calm, even amused, as she strolled leisurely toward Lumen. His brow furrowed as he instinctively gripped his sword. He had suspected she would appear, but with the wind so fierce, maintaining proper footing was difficult.

“What did you do to Leader?”

“Cadel Lytos? What did I do, you ask? Not much, really. I just thought tormenting him a little might make him a bit sad. But it worked even better than I expected. He’s sobbing uncontrollably. You can’t hear it, but I can hear every sound in my ears. His cries are so sweet. Sweet enough to lull me to sleep like a lullaby.”

As Emilia beamed like a young girl, Lumen’s expression turned cold. She sneered while watching Lumen, who continued to glow blue even amidst her demonic energy.

“Wonder how much more beautiful his cries will be if I toss your corpse at him? Want to find out?”

“…….”

“I’ll throw you in front of Cadel Lytos right before you die. Say your last words then. That boy will let out the sweetest scream in the world and follow you into death on his own.”

His heart felt as if it were being crushed. He wanted to rip her apart right then for so casually mocking Cadel’s pain. And he worried about Cadel breaking down from her cruel games. He wanted to run to him, hold him, and comfort him. But unless he could break down the wall standing before him, he couldn’t even take one step closer.

The screams that vanished like magic the moment he stepped into the corridor were probably because of this wretched demonic energy. In this place, only he and the Demon King could hear Cadel’s cries. The desperate pleas of a man on the verge of breaking.

So he had to answer. To say, look at me. There’s a man here who would come back to life a hundred times, just for you. So please, take my hand.

“Aren’t you curious? How I came back to life?”

“Hmm. Maybe the power Kelligan left behind pulled some trick? Like giving you a chance to kill me.”

“No. Kelligan’s blessing lives in me, not to kill you.”

“……Interesting. Then what for?”

“To protect the one I love. Kelligan respected that resolve and gave me one last chance.”

Gripping his wildly flickering sword tightly as if he had been waiting for this moment, Lumen muttered coldly.

“So cutting you down right now—it’s not that big of a deal to me. Step aside. I need to cut you down and go see Cadel.”