Chapter 6

Coalition Camp. The Command Tent.

Prince Abner and the Archduke of the West sat opposite one another, their gazes locked onto the tactical map spread between them. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and suppressed anxiety.

"We are out of time," Abner said, his finger driving into the map. "The Demon Lord has already breached the perimeter of the Wall of Holy Light, yet we remain stalled here at the Western Fortress! We must retake this stronghold immediately to sever the Demon Lord’s retreat."

Over the past week, the Coalition Army had repelled the Demon Army’s offensive thrusts with surprising ease, pushing the battle lines all the way back to the walls of the Western Fortress. However, the fortress—originally designed as an impregnable bastion to keep demons out—was now the greatest obstacle keeping the humans out.

"Your Highness, I share your urgency," Archduke Edwin replied, spreading his hands in frustration. "But the defenses of the Western Fortress are formidable. The two Demon Grand Dukes entrenched inside refuse to engage. Every time the Knight Order attempts a charge, we are stonewalled."

Edwin frowned, tracing the jagged lines of the enemy trenches on the map. "Furthermore, they have established a complex network of defensive positions outside the walls. It is clearly designed to provide early warning and shatter the momentum of our heavy cavalry. Honestly... who on earth taught them discipline like this?"

"What a drag..."

A lazy, dismissive voice sliced through the strategic tension.

The Hero, Hayato, yawned loudly, looking utterly bored. "Is this it? Hey, Evelyn, let's go. Since the Demon Lord isn't here, there's no point in us sticking around."

Without waiting for a response or dismissal, the Hero stood and sauntered toward the exit.

Princess Evelyn rose gracefully, offered a polite, apologetic curtsy to her brother and the Archduke, whispered a soft "Excuse me," and followed the Hero out of the tent like a dutiful shadow.

"This..."

Edwin watched the scene with a twitching brow, then looked back at Abner. The Prince’s expression remained practiced and neutral, though his jaw was set tight.

After a moment of hesitation, Edwin spoke his mind. "Your Highness, forgive my bluntness regarding the current Hero. I fail to see a single redeeming quality in him. He is arrogant, rude, and ignorant of his own weakness. There is absolutely no need to shackle Her Highness Evelyn to such a man!"

"Do not speak so, Lord Edwin," Abner chided, though his eyes flashed with a cold, shared displeasure. "He is, after all, the Hero."

"Very well..." Edwin sighed, forcing himself to drop the subject.

At the Foot of the Wall.

"Urgh... Demon... Lord..."

The last surviving Grand Magus of the Ninth Circle lay prone on the scorched earth, struggling to lift his head.

His robes were in tatters, his staff snapped into splinters and scattered in the dirt. His face was caked with blood and ash; he looked more like a beggar than one of the most powerful spellcasters on the continent.

He reached out a trembling hand toward the figure walking slowly toward the Wall of Holy Light.

Mana began to gather in his palm for one final, desperate spell. But before the incantation could leave his lips, pitch-black flames coiled around him like a living shroud.

Hiss—

The fire consumed him in silence. There was no scream, only the quiet evaporation of life.

Clyris stood before the colossal wall once more. But this time, she was not the broken, desperate creature she had been moments ago.

She stood tall, gripping her longsword. Her dark gold armor shone with an unearthly luster against the gloom. Her waist-length black hair whipped in the wind, framing a face set with eyes of burnished crimson steel.

She placed her hand on the surface of the wall.

This time, there was no flood of warm, human memories. There was only pure, blinding light—and absolute, rejectionist power.

"Just as expected of Roger, the 'Glorious Hero'," Lilith said, her voice weak as she limped up from behind. "He built this with his life force. Even after ten thousand years, the pressure is overwhelming."

"Are you alright?"

Clyris glanced at the Succubus Grand Duke. Lilith was in a sorry state; nearly half her body was gone, her very shadow had been evaporated by the Holy Light, and her armor was shattered.

"I'll live. That brute took the killing blow for me..."

Lilith looked back at the standing corpse of Gruen. The Orc Grand Duke remained upright even in death. His massive frame was riddled with sword wounds, his fur burned away by magic, and his spirit scorched by the light.

He was dead.

He wasn't the only one. The Grand Dukes of Fire, Ice, and Thunder were gone. The Grand Magus squad they had slaughtered hadn't even left corpses behind—but the cost had been catastrophic.

The Rock Demon Grand Duke had been the first to fall, sacrificing his life to halt the initial charge of the human Knight Order. He had been pulverized completely.

Thump.

Cossette, the Grand Duke of the Winged Kin, collapsed to the ground. One of his massive wings had been severed, the other burned to a charred stump. Deep wounds revealing white bone covered his body.

"Your Majesty... it is all up to you now..."

Cossette looked at her with cloudy eyes, a single thread of light remaining in his gaze. "Can you... break it?"

"No... I cannot. Not now."

Her words crushed his remaining hope.

"The 'Glorious Hero' Roger was far more powerful than I imagined. Even among the Titled Heroes of history, he must have been a transcendent existence."

On the continent of Rodinia, the war between Hero and Demon Lord had played out thirty times over the millennia. Not every Hero made history. More than half died at the hands of the Demon Lord, their names forgotten, considered failures.

The remaining minority—those who defeated the Demon Lord or died taking the enemy with them—were granted titles based on their deeds. They were the Titled Heroes.

Roger, the "Glorious Hero" of ten thousand years ago, had sacrificed his life to erect this Wall of Despair, sealing the fate of the Demon race.

"How can this be..."

Cossette slumped fully onto the ground, looking up at the Wall of Light in utter desolation.

"Now..." Lilith’s eyes lit up for a second, only to dim again. "Even if we could break it later, we don't have the strength to fight our way here a second time..."

She sat on the ground, her voice bitter. "Next time, the humans will be prepared. It won't just be these forces. A Saint Realm powerhouse will definitely appear! They might even be on their way right now!"

"And the long-ears..." Cossette added between raspy breaths. "The elves will come. The Rodinia Alliance Army might reform! And the dwarves in the west—they aren't the scattered tribes of ten thousand years ago. They could easily send three or four Ninth-Rankers!"

"And us? Will and Allen are missing, likely dead after being surrounded by the Morris Empire. That leaves... just the three of us."

"No!"

Clyris’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding. "Next time, I alone will be enough to overturn the entire world!"

She raised her hand. Four distinct, swirling nebulas of light appeared in her palm.

Gray. Black. White. Pink.

"This is..."

Cossette and Lilith froze, their despair instantly replaced by shock.

It was a fundamental law of the world: ascending from the Eighth to the Ninth Rank granted an Authority. But a Ninth-Rank entity could only hold one Authority. It was unique, exclusive, and singular.

This was because an Authority represented one's worldview.

The gap between Seventh and Eighth Rank was understanding laws. But the Ninth Rank required fusing natural laws with one's own will, turning it into a force driven by the self.

A soul cannot harbor two contradictory realities simultaneously. Therefore, one person equals one Authority.

Demon Lords and Heroes were the sole exceptions. Their power came not just from themselves, but from the Demon God or the Lord of Light. Thus, they held two Authorities—one personal, one divine. This was why they far outstripped their peers.

But what Lilith and Cossette were seeing now was impossible. Unprecedented.

Four Authorities in one body.

"I originally possessed three Authorities. Just now, upon touching the Wall of Despair, I seized a fourth!"

Clyris looked at them with pride. "At the same time, my power has grown. I have reached the absolute limit of the Ninth Rank. The threshold of the Saint Realm is right before my eyes! Once I break through, I will be a Quad-Domain Saint—something history has never seen!"

"I am certain now. More certain than I have ever been!"

Cossette struggled to his feet. He knelt on one knee, placing his remaining hand over his heart. "To follow you... is our greatest honor!"

"Ah, and mine as well!" Lilith bowed deeply, ignoring her pain. "Your Majesty Clyris, serving you is the fortune of the Demon Race!"

"Now, return immediately to support Will and Allen. I trust they yet live!"

Clyris spoke with absolute confidence, her cape billowing behind her. "Leave the pursuing Magdeburg Coalition Army to me. It is time I tested the mettle of a Saint!"

"Yes, Your Majesty!"