Aura’s blade clashed against Arlen’s.

  From the very first exchange, the outcome was clear.

  Aura had trained since childhood. Her movements were refined, her form disciplined, her instincts sharpened through years of survival in the underworld. But against Arlen—against real battle experience, against a will forged through death and resurrection—skill alone was not enough.

  She tried to keep her distance.

  Released pollen into the air—only for Raikiri

  Summoned insects from beneath the ground—only for Arlen to crush them without even slowing his stride.

  The gap between them was overwhelming.

  After surviving multiple blood bonds.

  After wielding countless relics.

  After drinking the blood of gods.

  Their difference in strength was no longer measurable.

  But what hurt Aura the most wasn’t his power.

  It was his face.

  No pain.

  No hesitation.

  No trace of emotion.

  The weight of what he carried should have been unbearable—like burning endlessly in a hell without mercy. Any other being would have screamed, broken, begged. But Arlen showed nothing.

  He would walk this path to the end.

  Even if it meant walking alone.

  Aura felt it then—the cruel irony of fate.

  She stood against the same boy who had saved her from death.

  The same boy who had allowed her parasitic form to live inside him.

  Still, she forced herself to focus.

  That was her only chance.

  She stepped back.

  Insects lunged from his blind spot—

  —and Arlen vanished.

  Her eyes widened.

  He reappeared inches in front of her.

  Space manipulation.

  He had drunk Astrea’s blood minutes ago.

  And already—he was using her power.

  The speed of his learning and adaptation was terrifying.

  Before Aura could react, Arlen seized her wing and slammed her to the ground. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs. Soul Eater

  She had lost.

  Yet even then, Aura looked at him—not with fear, but with pity.

  “Sweet boy…” she whispered. “You still have kindness in you.”

  For a split second—

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  Arlen’s composure cracked.

  “What?”

  It was the first word he had spoken since the fight.

  Aura smiled faintly.

  “When you first came to the underworld, you would have torn off my wings without hesitation. But you didn’t do it this time.” Her voice softened. “Do you think my wings are beautiful?”

  His reply came cold and flat, as always.

  “Yes. They are.

  But you have to die.”

  In that moment, her mind cleared.

  Tears streamed down her face—not from fear, but from sorrow. Not for herself, but for him.

  “Hey, Arlen,” she said quietly. “You’ve already accepted your own death, haven’t you?”

  He nodded.

  “Then…” her voice trembled, but she didn’t look away,

  “…will you let me live inside you like a parasite until that end?”

  His eyes widened.

  “I want to stay with you until the very end,” she continued. “And about Cornea… even if you kill her, I know you’re planning a future for her. A better one.”

  Silence fell.

  No wind.

  No sound.

  Just the two of them.

  Then—

  Arlen leaned down.

  His fangs pierced her neck.

  He drank.

  Not a drop.

  Not a taste.

  He drank everything

  Until Aura’s body withered dry.

  Until the obsidian butterfly dissolved into nothingness.

  And then—

  His right hand swelled grotesquely. Veins bulged, rupturing beneath the skin. Something moved inside his palm.

  A voice echoed through his mind.

  “Thank you, sweet boy… for listening to my last plea.”

  Then he rose.

  Turned back.

  At the edge of the shattered battlefield stood Cornea

  “Stand up, Demon Queen of the Hollow Court,” Arlen said.

  His voice carried no mercy.

  “And fight me. Or I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

  Cornea looked at him.

  Her lips trembled. Her voice came out as barely more than a whisper.

  “Why, Arlen…? Please come back to me…”

  Tears blurred her vision. “I will forgive everything you’ve done. Everything. Please—don’t do this. I need you.”

  Arlen’s eyes did not flinch.

  Not even for a heartbeat.

  Cornea forced herself to stand.

  She remembered how she had fought Arlen’s echo—how the belief that

  had given her strength. That belief had carried her blade. That belief had steadied her heart.

  But how could she fight the real

  She tried to summon her power.

  A black sphere formed in her palm—slow, unstable, pitiful. Nothing like the overwhelming darkness she once commanded.

  A fist slammed into her abdomen.

  The impact drove the air from her lungs. Cornea collapsed to the ground again, coughing, her body refusing to respond.

  Arlen knelt beside her.

  Soul Eater rested calmly in his hand.

  “If you had fought with your full strength,” he said quietly, “I would have lost.”

  His tone was almost gentle.

  “So… thank you for loving me. And for not fighting back.”

  The blade plunged into her core.

  Her vision blurred.

  But then—

  A familiar voice cut through the darkness.

  “Oath Binder. You are not allowed to die.”

  She knew this trick.

  Soul Eater.

  Oath Binder.

  Her divinity shattered. Her godhood vanished. She became mortal.

  “Why—” she tried to speak.

  Before she could finish—

  A figure appeared at the far edge of Heaven.

  “I’ve completed my mission,” Tethys

  Arlen didn’t even look at Cornea.

  He grabbed her by the neck and dragged her across the broken ground toward Tethys.

  Tethys handed him the relic.

  Cornea recognized it instantly.

  Silent Weaver.

  The same relic Mortis had used.

  Her blood ran cold.

  “What are you planning, Arlen?!” she demanded, horror tearing through her voice.

  And then she saw it.

  A smile.

  Tears.

  On the face of the boy she thought had abandoned his emotions.

  “Cornea,” Arlen said softly, “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

  His voice trembled.

  “And I don’t deserve to stand beside you anymore. Not after everything I’ve done… and everything I’m about to do.”

  Silent Weaver flared in his hand.

  His fingers reached her cheek—gentle. Tender.

  “Please forget me, Cornea.”

  “No… no… no—Arlen—NOOO—!”

  The relic activated.

  Her memories shattered.

  Every smile.

  Every battle.

  Every promise.

  Every moment she had cherished with him—

  —erased.

  “Forget me,” he whispered through tears, “and live freely in the human world. Without burdens.”

  Cornea clung desperately to his hand as her memories slipped away.

  He couldn’t stop crying.

  Neither could she.

  “Goodbye, my queen.”

  He pushed her away.

  She fell—from the edge of Heaven—down toward the mortal world.

  Arlen did not turn back.

  The emotions that had leaked out in a flood were sealed shut once more—forced back behind an unbreakable wall.

  “Tethys,” he said coldly, “make sure she lands safely.”

  Then he looked upward.

  “Time for the final prey of the God Slayer,” he murmured.

  “I’m coming, Gatekeeper.”