I couldn't turn my head.
Couldn't move.
But the moment the void tore open behind me—
I heard it.
A sound like a vacuum, a force so strong it seemed to pull at the very fabric of existence itself.
The void howled. Twisted. Collapsed.
Like something had ripped through reality itself.
And then—
Through all the chaos, through the roaring nothingness—
A voice.
Calm. Unshaken. Absolute.
"I found you."
My distortion time activated instantly.
The ability to see one second into the future.
But even with it—I saw nothing.
Nothing.
No warning. No movement. No answer to what just happened.
All I knew was this—
Eindva, who had been seated untouched upon her throne, was now—
Gone.
Her body split in half.
So was her throne.
And slowly, before my very eyes—
She crumbled.
Not into blood. Not into flesh.
Into dust.
Into nothingness.
And then—
Silence.
The vacuum ceased.
The void stood still.
And where Eindva once sat—
Stood the man who had done the impossible.
Sieg Brandt.
Suddenly, I could move again.
The invisible chains that had locked my body were gone.
I collapsed forward, head first, catching myself against the ground.
My breath came ragged, uneven.
But instinct took over.
I forced myself up, my body still shaking from what just happened.
And without thinking—I reached for my sword.
I raised it.
Pointed it.
At him.
But even now—who was I kidding?
This man had just killed Eindva.
Not battled her. Not struggled against her.
Killed. Her.
A God.
And he did it like she was nothing.
Sieg took another step forward, looking at me with those cold, measuring eyes.
Then—he sighed.
"A thank you would be nice, kid."
I didn't answer.
Because suddenly—everything around us began to crumble.
The void—the endless abyss that had surrounded us—
Was dissolving.
Like ink washed away by water.
Like it had never existed at all.
Eindva was dead.
And then—
The world snapped back.
The weight of the real world crashed down on me.
The cold, damp air of Drakenburg's underground filled my lungs again.
We were back.
I staggered slightly, my grip on my sword loosening.
"Wha—what just happened?" I managed.
My voice felt small.
Sieg stood in front of me, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
Then, finally, he spoke.
"Seems like this realm is never free from its problems, eh?"
His tone was almost casual. Like what just happened was just another inconvenience.
"First, the Seven Demons," he continued. "Thankfully, the Heroes of the Realm handled that. And now we have these…"
His gaze drifted to the empty space where Eindva had once sat.
"Outer Gods."
His voice was calm. Unshaken.
"Trying to control us. Trying to conquer us."
His eyes snapped back to mine.
"I won't let them."
"You've been hunting them?" I asked, my voice low.
Sieg nodded once. "Aye."
His answer was short, but his tone carried weight.
Like this wasn't the first time.
Like Eindva was just one of many.
He exhaled slightly, gaze steady.
"I noticed it the first time we met. Thought it was The Mother."
"But the energy was too strong."
His expression didn't change. Unshaken. Absolute.
"Listen to me, kid."
He stepped forward, just enough that I felt the sheer presence of him—a force beyond men, beyond war.
"We can't let these Outer Gods invade our realm."
"This isn't about the kingdom. Or Valkthara."
"This is about our world. Our realm."
His hand shifted slightly, resting near his hip—near the sabre that had just ended a God.
"We've lived all this time without one. We don't need one."
His gaze locked onto mine, cutting through me like a blade.
"Join me."
"And we hunt the Gods together."
"Eindva ain't the only one."
I couldn't answer.
Not right away.
I felt something tighten in my chest.
This was bigger than me. Bigger than just my power.
This was about the entire world.
Could I even handle that?
I had wanted strength.
Wanted to be invincible.
But a war against Gods?
Against beings that existed beyond my understanding?
My grip on my sword tightened.
"Eindva gave me my power," I said slowly.
"And you just killed her."
I exhaled, staring at my own hands. Hands that had taken life. That had grown stronger. That had killed Rikard, killed Astrid, killed Rhazan—
"I don't know if I can fight with you. Or with anyone else. Without her—"
I swallowed.
"I'm just a regular soldier."
Just a frontline feeder.
Just cannon fodder.
Meant to die so that stronger men could win.
Sieg was silent for a moment.
Then—he lifted his weapon.
His sabre.
And for the first time, I saw it up close.
It wasn't steel.
Wasn't forged metal.
It looked like it wasn't even real.
Like it was a piece of something else.
Something that shouldn't exist in this realm.
The blade was dark, too dark, absorbing light instead of reflecting it.
Every edge, every curve felt unnatural—wrong.
It was like looking at a wound in reality itself.
"Try to use the power she gave you," Sieg said, voice unreadable. "The Gods might be dead—"
His gaze didn't waver.
"But their gifts always linger."
I closed my eyes and focused.
On Rikard.
On Astrid.
For Rikard—a memory.
Not of war. Not of blood.
But of something simple.
A night in the barracks, sitting by the fire, bowls in hand—challenging each other to see who could slurp their noodles the loudest.
The memory was vivid. The way he laughed, the way he smacked his chest proudly when he won.
That was Rikard.
That was the memory I called upon.
And then—
He appeared.
The same phantom warrior.
The same solid but ghostly figure.
Still Rikard.
But the moment he materialized—I felt it.
The power inside him—amplified.
I clenched my fists, and—there it was again.
A raw, surging strength running through my veins.
This was different.
A new power buried inside me.
Not from Rikard.
Not from Eindva.
But from her.
Astrid.
It wasn't just strength. It wasn't just power.
It was rage.
A berserker's fury, coiling beneath my skin like a sleeping beast, ready to awaken the moment I needed it.
Even Sieg could tell.
He studied me, then exhaled through his nose, impressed.
"Impressive," he said as he sheathed his sabre.
Then—his next words hit harder than I expected.
"The King told you to kill all the Skarnhaal, correct?"
His eyes flickered slightly.
"Did you do it?"
And then—
"Like your father did?"
I tightened my jaw.
"...No."
I told him everything.
About the deal I made.
About the duel.
About how the Skarnhaal now planned to leave this realm instead of reclaiming it.
"Good. You were wiser than your father."
Sieg nodded slightly, then turned, motioning for me to follow.
"Come on. Let's get out of this underground."
I hesitated for a fraction of a second before sighing, sheathing my sword. With a single thought, Rikard vanished.
And as I stepped in line behind Sieg, the question left my mouth before I could stop it.
"You knew him?"
Sieg didn't slow his stride.
Didn't look back.
Didn't hesitate.
"Aye," he said.
"I'm the one who killed him."