Even now, with the fighting ended, the golden dragon's presence pressed down on the area like an invisible weight. The abyssals were gone, but the air had not yet relaxed.
Even the wind seed reluctant to move, as if nature itself was wary of drawing the dragon's attention.
Sothing like awe flickered across the 9-star tar's expression.
And sothing else.
Trepidation.
The hand finished speaking.
Slowly, deliberately, the 9-star tar's clenched jaw loosened. The fury in his eyes dimd, reined in by the threat of getting his ass beaten by the golden dragon.
Then he looked directly at Kain.
The anger and suspicion that Kain had been bracing for did not co.
Instead, the man looked… tired.
Older than he had monts ago.
The kind of exhaustion that did not co from battle alone, but from the long period of holding a line that ended up crumbling futilely despite all of his best efforts.
In the blink of an eye, the 9-star tar vanished.
Kain barely registered the movent before the man reappeared directly in front of him, standing less than three steps away. There had been no sound, no warning—just displacent.
Kain's heart skipped.
Instinctively, he straightened his posture.
The 9-star tar studied him for several long seconds.
Those seconds stretched uncomfortably, each heartbeat loud in Kain's ears as he waited to see whether this eting would end in conversation—or catastrophe.
Finally, he spoke.
"I no longer care where you co from," the man said, voice low and hoarse. "Or why you were in that relic. Or why you have so strange similarities to that Dragon Abyssal."
Kain blinked.
"I no longer care what your purpose is for coming here," the man continued. "Or what secrets you carry."
He looked past Kain, briefly, toward the southern district where the majority of the populace now lay.
"As long as you can help defend this fort."
Naturally, he wasn't hoping for Kain to defend the fort himself.
The aning beneath those words was clear.
Keep that dragon here.
The hope was naked in his gaze.
Kain felt his stomach tighten.
He understood exactly what the man was thinking.
Yes, four out of five abyssal demigods stationed here had fallen.
But so what?
At best, that had bought them ti. Nothing more.
The 9-star tar knew it as well as Kain did. The Abyss could simply assign new demigods to this front, and when that happened, he would be powerless to stop them alone. He could escape, of course. He was strong enough to abandon this place and survive.
But doing so would condemn everyone left behind—and likely many others beyond this fort.
Every other major defensive point covering an abyssal exit along the eastern continent's north had already fallen. This fort was the last one still standing, and it was also the hardest to defend.
The portal here was the most stable, the only one that allowed abyssal demigods to cross with any consistency. The other openings were weaker, more volatile, and unable to sustain large-scale incursions.
Those forts had not fallen because they were indefensible.
They had fallen because their demigods and 9-star tars in charge of them were corrupt.
They had fled with their families to the central or western continents, abandoning the east without hesitation.
This man had not.
He still had a conscience and sense of responsibility as a peak existence.
And standing before Kain now, his unspoken hope was painfully clear: that the golden dragon could be made to stay. After all, sothing so overwhelmingly powerful could hold the line alone.
With that golden dragon stationed here, no abyssal army could advance. Not without paying a catastrophic price.
It was a great idea.
But unfortunately...
Kain exhaled—and shook his head.
"I can't," he said.
The shift in the 9-star tar was imdiate.
Disbelief.
Then anger.
Then grief.
A wave of aura surged outward, heavy enough to make the air tremble. Kain felt pressure crash down on him, instinct screaming—
And then it vanished.
Cold.
Absolute.
Kain felt it before he saw it.
Aurem's gaze, distant and impassive, had settled on the 9-star tar.
The warning was clear.
The aura withdrew at once.
Kain exhaled shakily, heart pounding.
…Guess this disobedient son was at least conscionable enough not to stand by and watch his father get bullied—or worse.
The 9-star tar closed his eyes briefly.
When he opened them again, the fury was gone—but the exhaustion remained.
"You refuse," he said flatly.
"I can't make that promise," Kain replied quickly. "Aurem won't stay here."
Silence.
Then the man laughed once. Soft. Bitter.
"Of course he won't."
Kain hesitated, then stepped forward slightly.
"But I can still help," he said.
The 9-star tar's eyes snapped back to him.
Hope flared.
"How?"
Kain gestured toward the south.
"I can help lead those remaining to support you in defending this fort"
The fleeting hope in the 9-star tar's gaze died.
"…They're civilians," the man said flatly. "Unawakened."
"I know," Kain replied. "That's the point. I can help them to awaken as beast tars."
The 9-star tar stared at him as if wondering if he were sick in the head.
Then shook his head.
"You're saying nonsense," he said. "If they had the talent to awaken, they would have already."
Kain t his gaze steadily.
"Buuuut...what if?"
The man frowned.
"What if," Kain continued, "they can beco beast tars?"
Silence.
The 9-star tar looked at him like he was being sold a miracle tonic by a street con artist.
"That's impossible," he said. "But if they all could—"
"—then you should be able to barely hang on, right?," Kain finished calmly.
He nodded, hesitantly.
"Yes. I could."
Clap
Kain broke the solemn atmosphere by clapping loudly, face breaking out into a grin.
"Great! Then let's get started."
The 9-star tar searched his face.
Long.
Hard.
But he chose to go along with this farce for now. What other option did he have?
Kain didn't mind his gaze.
"Give so unawakened people," he replied. "Preferably ones who already have so combat experience."
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