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The battlefield fell silent as Deamon chuckled, wiping blood from his lip.

"Damn, old man, I didn't see that coming," he said.

Elias smirked, adjusting his stance. "Well, I didn't want you to die anyway. We need to defeat that thing."

Marquis Arsel approached, his expression grim. "How do we even plan to kill that thing?"

"Simple," Deamon pointed toward the demon. "Hold him for ."

"What?!" they all shouted in unison. "That thing?!"

"Yes," Deamon affird. "I have to remove that fragnt."

Elias nodded, a rare smile on his face. "Okay, I trust you."

Marquis Arsel looked incredulous. "You're going to do that? You're weird for trusting him."

The demon, observing their exchange, let out a low growl, its third eye glowing ominously.

"Enough talk," Elias said, gripping his weapon. "Let's do this."

Marquis Arsel scoffed, tightening his grip on his sword.

"Tsk. Let's finish this."

He, Duke Elias, and Nyxtriel encircled the demon, coordinating their assault.

Nyxtriel lunged first, aiming a punch at the demon's jaw. The demon dodged, unaware of Arsel approaching from behind, who slashed its back, eliciting a guttural snarl.

Elias seized the mont, leaping to strike the demon's head.

The demon evaded, creating distance. But Nyxtriel was relentless, delivering a powerful blow to its back, sending it staggering forward.

Daemon leaped into the fray, his blade tracing arcs of energy.

"Be careful!" Elias shouted.

Too late.

The demon retaliated with a sweeping slash, severing Elias's hand. He scread in agony.

Arsel rushed to Elias's side, pulling him away from the ensuing onslaught as the ground split beneath them.

"Hold on!" Arsel urged.

Nyxtriel confronted the demon head-on, their kicks clashing with a thunderous shockwave.

They exchanged a flurry of blows, neither yielding.

Amidst the chaos, reinforcents arrived.

Duke Lark and his soldiers erged from the ruins of the kingdom.

Elias, bloodied, managed a weak smile.

"Lark... You made it."

Lark shouted back,

"I told you not to die!"

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the battlefield.

Nyxtriel seized the opportunity, wrapping her arms around the demon, restraining it.

Daemon, drained of mana, summoned his last reserves.

"Eclipse Claw!"

Dark tendrils coalesced into a spear as he charged.

The demon struggled, but Nyxtriel bit into its neck, causing it to howl in pain.

Daemon drove the spear into the demon's chest, attempting to extract the fragnt.

The demon retaliated, punching Daemon, but he held firm.

Marquis Arsel joined, channeling his astral energy to assist.

Together, they tore the fragnt free.

The demon let out a final, anguished scream as it disintegrated.

Daemon collapsed, the fragnt pulsating in his hand.

The demon shrieked as it collapsed, its body unraveling into black dust.

From the wreckage of the shattered palace, King Velrick staggered forward, screaming, "No! My demon son!"

"Yes!" Elias roared, staggering upright with Duke Lark's help. "The kingdom's safe."

"For now," Marquis Arsel muttered, patting Daemon's back. "Kid's sixteen and already outshining half the legends. Soone better make him a damn statue."

Nyxtriel stood still, watching Daemon carefully. "What about the king.What do we do with him my lord.?"

"Well..."

anwhile, Daemon was still staring at the fragnt.

It pulsed in his palm like a living heart—blood-red, jagged like crystal, glowing faintly with the sa shade as his eyes. Its power was nauseating, ancient, seductive. His core scread to claim it. His instincts whispered only one word:

Consu.

As the others spoke behind him, they didn't notice the shift—until Daemon muttered, "Thank you all... for helping get my fragnt back."

Then, without hesitation, he swallowed it.

"What—what did you just do?!" Elias barked, stunned.

"What the hell do you an 'thank you'?!" Duke Lark demanded. "You fought for this kingdom!"

Daemon slowly turned his head toward them, his eyes unfocused, jaw tightening.

"No. I never said I was saving this kingdom. I said I was after the fragnt."

"What...?"

Then it hit him.

A molten burn tore through his chest—he dropped to one knee, gripping his ribs as the fragnt liquefied inside him, sinking into his Astra core like hot lead.

"Gah—damn it...!" Daemon gasped, staggering back.

Nyxtriel stepped forward instinctively, but then—froze.

Sothing was wrong. Very wrong.

Her entire body shivered as an ancient chill passed through her. She stepped back.

"Are you alright?" Ansel asked, reaching out a hand.

Daemon's eyes snapped open.

Pitch black.

His sword flashed once.

SHINK.

Ansel's head dropped to the ground.

His body crumpled.

"You bastard!" Elias roared, raising his sword with a trembling hand.

Nyxtriel's voice was low, shaken. "My lord... Seraphiel?"

Daemon tilted his head toward her. "Hello, Nyxtriel."

Elias's jaw tightened. "What the hell did she just call him?!"

Nyxtriel's hands trembled. Her lips parted, but no words ca. She wanted to step forward—wanted to believe it was still him—but sothing in Daemon's eyes told her the truth.

They were colder now.

Empty.

"Nyxtriel..." Daemon said again, voice low. "Co."

She flinched.

That voice—it wasn't Daemon's. Not the boy who raised her. Not the lord she followed.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "You're not him. Please... whatever you are, give him back."

Daemon's gaze sharpened, and his lips curled into a faint smile.

"Since when does a weapon speak to her father with such defiance?"

From the rubble near the castle's edge, King Velrick stumbled forward and dropped to his knees, desperation etched across his bloodied face.

"My king! You've returned! I knew you would!" Velrick cried. "I've secured the fragnt for you—everything was for you! Let serve again, please!"

"You disgraceful worm," Elias growled. "You sold your kingdom for madness."

Daemon tilted his head and looked down at the trembling king, placing one hand gently atop Velrick's head.

"So... you're the one who denied this body its rightful power for all these years," he murmured.

Velrick blinked. "What do you—?"

CRACK—BOOM!

Velrick's skull exploded beneath Daemon's palm, a spray of bone and brain matter erupting like a ruptured fruit. The force echoed through the air.

Everyone flinched.

Nyxtriel stepped back in horror.

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