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Beyond the outer city walls, near the forest's edge where Kael had first emerged accompanied by Yselda, Aurelia and Storm, a brutal battle raged.
The once-tranquil scenery had become a nightmarish battlefield. From afar, one could see the vast fields of crops set ablaze, hear the clashing of steel, and witness the radiant beams of light form powerful spells in the sky.
Mages and aura warriors fought desperately against the White Devil, trying to deflect its attacks and restrain it for as long as possible.
From atop the outer wall, Liora observed the scene, her expression dark with worry.
The devil had drawn its sword, and with each swing, devastation followed. Even from a great distance, its monstrous form was burned into her memory — its glowing white, spiky hair, the scarred and burned gray torso, and a face utterly devoid of human features.
Her anxious thoughts drifted to the moment Kael first revealed his plan to deal with the fallen god.
"Once he appears, he will instinctively move toward the Estate. The White Devil's consciousness is long gone; it sees anything in its path as an obstacle." he analyzed, his voice eerily calm.
"Do not injure him until he attacks me first. Focus on evasion and keeping him at bay. You will not be able to stop his sword if he perceives you as a threat, he will only become fiercer." Kael explained, before describing the most common attacks that the devil might perform, from simple sword strikes to some high ranked spells.
Liora and the other elders had been taken aback by the depth of Kael's knowledge. The attacks he described matched exactly what they had witnessed before. It could only mean one thing; Kael had either fought this monster himself or had learned about its abilities from an unfathomable source.
Then—
ROAR!
A thunderous battle cry snapped Liora from her thoughts.
The voice was familiar. Vek.
Commander Vek was a rank 6 aura grandmaster, a warrior who had reached the peak of mortal strength. And yet, even he was barely holding his ground against this monster, suffering a deep wound while trying to parry an attack.
After hearing Liora's briefing, Vek had immediately formulated a strategy to keep the devil distracted, displaying not only his brilliance but also his immense combat experience. He had taken the role of a frontline fighter, engaging the enemy up close, drawing its attention toward himself.
To sustain his endurance, he and his squadron of elite aura warriors fought in rotation. Every few attacks, they would swap positions, giving Vek a brief moment to recover.
Encircling the battlefield, the remaining Dawnblade troops formed a wide perimeter.
They were all mages — some rank 5, though most only rank 4. The true elites of the Dawnblades had fallen in battle a year ago. With their current forces, they barely retained their status as a major clan. Any more losses, and they would be reduced to a medium-sized force.
But this battle wasn't just about prestige or power. Losing meant destruction.
Elder Roderic, the head physician, proposed handing the artifact over or leaving it while evacuating. However, these suggestions were shot down instantly; they lacked time to evacuate the entire town, and the enemy attacked everything within its senses, as if displaying its arrogance.
Be it children, women or soldiers left behind, none would escape alive. Although its attacks would be lighter, its not something that the average person could survive.
The mages bombarded the enemy with spells; restraining its movements, shifting the ground beneath its feet, clouding its senses, and healing their wounded. Though their efforts created momentary openings, no attacks were made.
Only ten minutes had passed since the battle began.
The aura warriors strained every muscle to slow the devil's advance, but despite their efforts, the monster drew closer to the city wall at an alarming pace.
In truth, keeping the devil engaged was simple; one only had to attack. The moment combat ensued, it would have no choice but to fight.
But that was not an option.
Even Ryker, the patriarch, a demigod who had achieved metamorphosis, had only managed to injure it in their last battle, never kill it. And back then, they had a far greater army at their disposal.
Right now, this was the best they could do.
Vek continued to fight with precision, leading his warriors in a flawless display of Dawnblade swordsmanship, a style that used light to blind and corner the enemy. But against this monstrosity, a creature that fought purely on instinct, such tactics were nearly useless.
Liora, watching from afar, clenched her fists. She could see it clearly—the devil was drawing nearer.
Even as a fallen god, its raw power dwarfed that of mortals. If it chose to lunge forward or simply ignored its attackers, nothing could stop it from reaching the Estate instantly.
But Kael had assured them otherwise.
Why?
His reasoning had been vague. He had simply called it a habit, an action ingrained into the devil's very being.
And yet, when Liora thought back, Kael's words rang true—the White Devil had only fought aggressively once engaged in battle.
Perhaps it was trying to conserve its dwindling divine mana? But that explanation felt too simple, too convenient. If this was merely instinct, why did Kael refer to it as a habit?
The implications were unsettling, but Liora pushed them aside.
At that moment, a figure appeared beside her without a sound—like a ghost materializing from thin air.
It was Lyssara, her personal servant.
Unlike common attendants' white clothing, Lyssara's dark blue robes marked her as a retainer. A retainer's status was vastly different from a mere servant's—they were entrusted with the clan's secrets and granted immense privileges.
Most retainers wore deep crimson, symbolizing blood, loyalty, or sacrifice. But Lyssara's blue uniform signified wisdom and elite status.
Unlike others, Lyssara had not earned her rank through service to the clan—she had been sent directly by Queen Selene and had sworn an oath.
Though still bound to her duties, Lyssara was regarded highly for her strategic mind.
She and Liora exchanged glances.
Liora's expression hardened—not as a facade, but as a habit, one formed in the past year.
Lyssara's voice was as emotionless as ever.
"Sir Kael is coming."
The weight of those words was immense.
It meant the battle was reaching its climax.
"The fight will not last more than fifteen minutes." Kael had predicted. "Once I appear, the White Devil will go into a frenzy. It will attack viciously. All you need to do is hold it off for a few moments."
Kael had spoken as if he had already foreseen every move of the battle.
And he had been right.
The elders had understood one thing—when the horn appeared, the monster would charge toward it, just as it had before. Previously, Ryker had been there to stop it.
But this time?
Doubt lingered, but they had no choice but to trust Kael's words.
Lyssara's sharp eyes remained fixed on the battlefield, able to perceive even more details than Liora. The extent of her strength remained a mystery, but Liora knew one thing—Lyssara was powerful. Abnormally so.
Then—
A small figure appeared in the distance, walking leisurely with his hands clasped behind his back.
Kael.
His ghostly features, framed by the town's eerie emptiness, created an unsettling image of serenity.
Liora raised an artifact from her hip and spoke softly into it.
"We are ready."
In an instant, Yselda materialized beside them.
Her beauty was undeniable, and with the three women standing together, they formed a truly mesmerizing sight. Each possessed a distinct allure, under different circumstances they would have left any man captivated.
But there was no time for admiration.
Yselda's eyes locked onto Kael's approaching form. In her calm expression was a hint of discontent.
While they fought for their lives, he strolled forward without a care.
Without hesitation, she vanished—only to reappear before him in an instant.
A rank 6 spell, 'Teleportation'. Everyone here was aware of the complexity of this spell, to be using it repeatedly with ease, Yselda was unknowingly showcasing her power as a rank 6 mage.
Without a word, she placed a hand on Kael's shoulder.
In the blink of an eye, both were gone.
Liora and Lyssara turned their gazes back toward the battlefield, before Yselda showed up once again, taking Liora with her this time.
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The sounds of battle struck Kael's ears the moment he materialized in the outer ring of the formation, where the spellcasters stood. His white eyes flickered across the battlefield, taking in the relentless storm of magic unfolding around him.
A relentless barrage of spells surged through the air
magic dominated above all; binding incantations, roaring gusts of wind, lashes of condensed fire mana.
("How familiar.") he thought to himself, his expression unreadable.
His gaze shifted immediately toward the center of the battlefield.
Vek was mid-motion, preparing to deflect the monster's descending sword strike. The mages on the outer ring had already moved, knowing what would follow — the devastating aura attack that accompanied each of the devil's blows.
But then—
The white devil's sword halted mid-swing, its momentum vanishing as if swallowed by the void. The creature's featureless head twisted unnaturally, shifting toward Kael.
A thin line emerged where a mouth should have been.
Then, it split open.
SCREECH!
A horrific wail tore through the battlefield, sharp enough to pierce the soul. Warriors staggered, some clutching their ears in agony, their faces twisted in pain as they struggled against the deafening noise.
At the same time, an overwhelming force surged outward, pressing upon everything in its path. The devil's body shone with an eerie white aura, a suffocating, otherworldly energy that set the very air ablaze with tension.
It all happened in a single breath.
But for those present - warriors who had trained their entire lives, seasoned mages whose eyes could perceive the finest details of mana — it was clear as day.
This was an aura unlike any other.
Even the weakest among them was a Rank 4 combatant, a level of mastery that signified great talent, the kind that could secure a place in any prestigious clan. Yet, even among such warriors, the presence of Vek, a Rank 6 aura grandmaster, overshadowed them all.
And still, before this thing, even he struggled.
A Rank 7 demigod stood before them. An existence beyond the reach of mortals. The number of times such beings had been defeated by mortal hands could be counted on one hand.
The battlefield fell into a breathless silence.
The white devil's head remained locked onto Kael, its hollow face emotionless, yet leaving no doubt.
It saw him.
Then—
BOOM!
The devil's aura erupted outward like a tidal wave, distorting the very air around it. The force alone sent shockwaves rippling through the battlefield, pressing down on every warrior, every mage, like an invisible hand crushing their bodies.
Vek was one of the few people unaffected, his battle spirit did not waver in the least.
("It's weaker than last time!") he realized, gaining some confidence. He had learned through Liora about Kael's explanation-the monster in front of him could not absorb mana; it was long dead. What was in front of them was only the remnants of their previous fight.
Upon realising its strength even after having battled with Ryker, Vek's respect towards the deceased patriarch grew immensely.
("To think its still so energetic. Even if i have to sacrifice my life, you must perish today!") he resolved in his heart, glancing at the people surrounding him.
Tension surged through the ranks. Some faces paled. Others braced themselves, gripping their weapons tighter, steadying their breathing.
The echoes of the past battle crashed into their minds.
They all knew—
The white devil was counterattacking.
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