The throne room still crackled with the fading remnants of Tatsuya's final blow. Dust floated in the still air like lost souls, swirling around the ruins of what had once been the seat of the Demon Lord Ryouma's empire.
Tatsuya stood silently, his ice sword embedded in the cracked obsidian floor. His chest heaved with exhaustion. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, but he barely noticed. His mind was elsewhere, trapped in the memory of Himawari's final breath.
Behind him, Misaki Kazenime stepped cautiously across the rubble, her white sword still drawn. Her pink hair, usually bright and lively, was damp with sweat and clung to her face. Her wide eyes scanned the chamber, ready for any trickery, but found nothing but the hollow echo of their victory.
"It's really over," Misaki whispered, her voice trembling between relief and sorrow.
Tatsuya pulled his sword free with a grunt, slinging it across his back. "No," he said, voice low and heavy. "Not over. Ryouma's dead, but the damage he caused…"
He didn't finish. He couldn't. Not with the weight of his daughter's death choking him.
The doors behind them creaked open. Instantly, Tatsuya and Misaki turned, weapons raised.
But it wasn't another enemy. It was Nyxarion.
The former Demon Lord, now wearing simple black armor, strode into the ruined hall with a grim expression. His long silver hair cascaded down his back, and his sharp violet eyes quickly took in the destruction.
"You did it," Nyxarion said, stopping a few paces away. His gaze fell to where Ryouma's ashes scattered across the floor. "You avenged her."
Tatsuya didn't respond. A knot of guilt twisted in his gut. Avenging Himawari didn't feel like the triumph it should have been. It felt hollow.
Nyxarion's face softened. "There is… something you need to know."
Tatsuya's eyes narrowed. "What?"
Nyxarion hesitated. Misaki stepped closer, sensing the tension rising again.
"Ryouma wasn't acting alone," Nyxarion finally said. "He was just a pawn. A front for a greater evil." He turned and pointed toward the distant mountains beyond the shattered palace walls. "The true enemy still waits. The ancient being that once ruled before even my time… the one who whispered into Ryouma's ear."
Tatsuya's jaw tightened. His hand instinctively gripped his sword. "Who?"
A shadow fell over Nyxarion's face. "His name is Vaelgorath, the Devourer of Worlds."
Silence stretched between them.
Misaki shivered. "I've heard that name… in old legends."
Nyxarion nodded. "He was sealed away centuries ago. But the seal is breaking. Ryouma's bloodshed weakened it." He paused. "The death of so many… including your daughter… helped fuel it."
A fresh wave of rage coursed through Tatsuya. He clenched his fists so tightly that lightning crackled around them.
Misaki placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Tatsuya… we have to stop him. For Himawari. For everyone."
Tatsuya looked at her, seeing the pain in her eyes mirroring his own. He exhaled slowly. He couldn't drown in grief. Himawari wouldn't have wanted that.
He nodded. "Then we finish this. No more pawns. No more distractions. We end it at the source."
Nyxarion allowed a small, approving smile. "Good. Because we don't have much time."
The trio left the ruined palace behind, riding across the barren plains atop summoned steeds. The journey was grim and silent. The land itself seemed wounded, scarred by Ryouma's reign—forests blackened, rivers dried to dusty bones, villages reduced to ash.
As they traveled, memories of Himawari flooded Tatsuya's mind.
Her laughter when she chased butterflies in the fields near their home.
The way she clung to his arm when she was scared.
The pride in her eyes when she first summoned a spark of her own lightning magic.
Every memory was a dagger twisting deeper into his heart.
Misaki noticed the dark cloud over him and quietly moved her horse closer. She didn't speak; she simply rode beside him, offering silent support. That small gesture helped more than words ever could.
By nightfall, they reached the base of the Shattered Mountains. Jagged peaks loomed overhead, wreathed in dark mist. Somewhere beyond them, Vaelgorath stirred.
They made camp in the shadow of an ancient ruin. As the fire crackled, Nyxarion unrolled an old map across a stone slab.
"The seal lies at the heart of these mountains," he explained, pointing to a spot marked with an ancient symbol. "Guarded by the remnants of the First Demon Lords. Creatures older than time itself."
Tatsuya studied the map, his face carved from stone. "Then we go through them."
Misaki swallowed hard. "All of them?"
Nyxarion's smile was grim. "All of them."
The firelight flickered across their faces. For a long moment, none of them spoke.
Finally, Tatsuya broke the silence. "I made a promise to Himawari," he said, voice raw. "I told her I'd protect her. I failed her once. I won't fail her memory."
He stood, the flames casting a long shadow behind him. Misaki rose beside him, her white sword flashing in the firelight.
"We fight together," she said firmly. "Always."
Nyxarion nodded. "Then prepare yourselves. Tomorrow, the real battle begins."
That night, as the others slept, Tatsuya sat alone on a rocky outcrop, staring up at the starless sky.
He took out a small, battered locket from around his neck. Inside was a picture of Himawari, smiling bright and innocent.
"I'm sorry, Himawari," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I couldn't save you. But I'll make sure no one else loses what I lost. I swear it."
The locket shimmered in the moonlight.
Far away, deep within the mountains, a pair of ancient eyes opened in the darkness.
Vaelgorath was waking.
And he was hungry.