Her blade flared, white mana surging violently as she countered with a precise upward slash that cleaved through shadow and forced the demon to retreat a step. One step.
That alone was unthinkable.
Kael's fingers twitched.
His jaw screamed in protest as he forced it to move, blood spilling freely as he tried to breathe.
His leg burned, numb and agonizing all at once.
The saber girl shifted her stance, placing herself fully between Kael and Zhal'Mortis, wings of smoke and shadow looming over her like a stormcloud.
Her sword trembled from strain.
She glanced back at Kael briefly, white eyes softening just a fraction.
Another silent message passed through the bond.
"Rest… just for a moment."
Zhal'Mortis raised both arms.
Not with sound—there was still none—but with intent.
Zhal'Mortis spread his six wings wider, abyssal smoke pouring from them like a funeral tide.
The shadows thickened, crawling across the floor and walls, swallowing the faint light cast by Kael's astral residue and the white-eye saber girl's blade.
The Demon General of Death & Oblivion had understood something.
The human was broken.
But the others—
They were liabilities.
Targets.
The white-eye saber girl lunged again, sword flashing in a clean, precise arc meant to sever the demon's ribcage. Her strike was flawless, born of instinct and mastery honed through countless battles.
Zhal Mortis did not dodge.
He raised one skeletal arm.
The blade struck bone.
And stopped.
A shockwave rippled outward, cracking the stone beneath them. The saber girl was thrown back several meters, skidding across the floor, armor scraping violently.
She twisted mid-slide, digging her blade into the stone to stop herself, breath coming sharp and controlled.
At the same moment—
The shadows behind her moved.
Yumi felt it before she saw it.
Her beast instincts screamed.
"Kael—!" she tried to shout, but no sound came.
She turned.
Zhal'Mortis had vanished from in front of the saber girl.
He stood behind Kael.
Yumi's pupils shrank.
Kael was still on the ground, bloodied, jaw shattered, leg impaled, barely conscious. His chest rose and fell unevenly, mana flickering weakly like a dying ember.
There was no time.
So Yumi moved.
She didn't think.
She didn't hesitate.
She threw herself between Kael and the demon.
Her body shifted mid-stride, beast transformation surging violently as she forced every last drop of mana she had left into her muscles.
Her claws extended, fur bristling, tail snapping behind her as she raised both arms in a desperate guard.
Her eyes locked onto the hollow void where Zhal'Mortis's face should have been.
(If I can just buy one second…)
The Demon General raised his weapon.
A scythe formed from condensed oblivion and death, its blade curving unnaturally, inscribed with symbols that devoured light itself.
Oblivion Scythe.
The strike descended.
It did not cut flesh.
It cut existence.
Yumi felt it before it touched her.
A tearing sensation—not in her body, but deeper. As if something essential was being ripped away.
The scythe passed through her chest.
Her body froze.
Her eyes widened.
There was no blood at first.
A soul-deep agony that made her knees buckle.
Her beast form faltered, flickering violently as her mana collapsed inward. She tried to breathe, but her lungs refused to respond. Her heart stuttered, then beat once—hard—before slowing unnaturally.
She fell forward.
Straight into Kael's arms.
Her weight hit him, jolting his broken body. Pain exploded through his leg and jaw, forcing a strangled, silent gasp from his throat.
His arms moved on instinct.
They caught her.
Yumi's claws trembled weakly as they clutched at his clothes. Her eyes, once bright and lively, were already dimming, their glow fading like embers starved of air.
Kael's vision sharpened for the first time since being stabbed.
Not because of mana.
Because of panic.
"…Yu…mi…" he tried to say.
No sound.
But his lips moved.
Her gaze shifted slowly, painfully, until it met his.
She smiled.
It was small.
Weak.
Her lips moved.
Kael felt it through their bond—through the fragile thread of mana and trust that had grown between them since the dungeon.
"You… didn't leave me behind."
His hands shook.
"No… no, no, no—" his thoughts screamed. "Not like this. Not you."
Her body was cold already.
Too cold.
The Soul Brand on Kael's body flared violently, reacting to death so close, to despair so sharp it cut deeper than any blade.
Behind them, the white-eye saber girl turned.
She felt it.
The moment Yumi's soul was damaged.
Her eyes widened.
For the first time since Kael met her—
She screamed.
No sound came.
But the scream tore through the Domain anyway, distorting it, cracking the shadows as her mana surged uncontrollably.
She lunged.
Her sword became a streak of white fury as she slashed again and again at Zhal'Mortis, each strike precise, lethal, filled with raw emotion.
The demon was forced back.
One step.
Then another.
But he did not fall.
He raised his free hand.
The abyss beneath the hall opened.
Black symbols burned into the stone.
Grave Reversal.
The dungeon answered.
Death responded.
Yumi's body jerked in Kael's arms.
Her head snapped upward.
Her eyes—now completely dark—opened again.
But there was nothing behind them.
Kael froze.
His mind refused to accept what his eyes were seeing.
"…Yumi?" he thought desperately.
Her claws twitched.
Then moved.
Her body pulled itself free from his arms with unnatural stiffness. She stood, movements jerky, wrong, as if guided by invisible strings.
Her beast form stabilized—but it was empty.
The white-eye saber girl stopped mid-strike.
Her eyes widened in horror.
Zhal'Mortis spread his wings, satisfaction radiating from him like a grave wind.
The hollow Yumi turned slowly.
Her empty gaze locked onto Kael.
And she took a step toward him.
Kael's breath hitched.
This was worse than pain.
Worse than death.
His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms until blood welled.
"…I won't," he thought, rage and grief boiling together. "I won't let you use her."
The demon raised his scythe again.
The hall darkened further.
The white-eye saber girl stepped forward, placing herself between Kael and the hollow Yumi, blade shaking but unwavering.
She did not look back.
She simply stood.
As if daring death itself to advance.
And Kael—
Broken, bleeding, furious—
Felt something inside him snap.
Not his body.
Not his will.
But the last restraint holding his power back.
The final level of the dungeon shook.
And the Demon General smiled—
Because despair, after all, was the truest companion of death.
Kael's consciousness surged back like a tide crashing against shattered stone.
Pain came first.
His jaw throbbed with every shallow breath, his leg burned as if molten iron had been poured into the wound, and his chest felt tight—too tight—as if his heart was being crushed in a vice.
But worse than the pain—
Was the sight before him.
Yumi.
Standing.
Her movements were stiff, unnatural, her once-bright eyes now empty voids that reflected nothing.
The warmth he had felt through their bond was gone, replaced by a cold, hollow silence that clawed at his mind.
Zhal'Mortis stood behind her, towering and patient, six wings of smoke unfurled like the shadow of an executioner's gallows.
The demon laughed.
There was no sound.
But Kael felt it.
A vibration in his bones. A pressure against his thoughts. Mockery woven directly into his soul.
Kael forced himself to move.
His body screamed in protest as he rolled onto his side, coughing blood onto the cracked stone.
His fingers trembled as they reached for his bag, which lay a short distance away, half-spilled from the earlier chaos.
"Move," he commanded himself.
His leg refused.
He dragged himself anyway.
Each inch forward was paid for with agony. His vision blurred, black spots dancing at the edges as the Soul Brand burned hotter, feeding on despair and proximity to death.
Finally—his fingers brushed fabric.
He pulled the bag closer with a guttural growl, teeth clenching as pain shot through his jaw again. With shaking hands, he ripped it open.
Two vials rolled out.
Mana Elixir.
Strength Elixir.
His last reserves.
Kael did not hesitate.
He uncorked the mana elixir first and drank it in one desperate gulp. The liquid burned as it went down, flooding his mana circuits with volatile energy that felt like lightning ripping through his veins.
Then the strength elixir.
It tasted like iron and ash.
His muscles spasmed violently as the potion took effect, fibers screaming as power surged into damaged flesh that had no right to respond anymore.
Kael screamed.
This time, not even the Domain of Eternal Quiet could fully suppress it.
A broken, raw sound tore from his throat as his body convulsed, bones cracking, muscles tearing and reforming under the sheer force of the enhancement.
He forced himself upright.
Staggering.
Bleeding.
But standing.
The white-eye saber girl turned her head sharply.
Her eyes widened as she sensed the shift.
Kael stood behind her now, his body wrapped in a faint astral glow, unstable and violent. Blood streamed freely from his jaw and leg, soaking into the stone beneath his feet.
Yet his gaze—
His gaze was clear.
Focused.
Burning with something far darker than rage.
(Yumi…) he thought, eyes locked onto the hollow husk that wore her form. "I'm sorry."
Zhal'Mortis tilted his skull slightly, amused.
The demon's laughter deepened, pressing harder into Kael's mind like a mocking chant.
Despair tastes sweeter when hope refuses to die.
Kael stepped forward.
The white-eye saber girl started to move, but Kael raised a hand—firm, commanding.
This time, she obeyed.
"This is my fight," his thoughts thundered, will bleeding into the space around him. "Don't interfere."
Chapter 349: Fallen of the Beast Girl!
8 min read