[ System Notification: Current Status… Dormant ]

  [ Vessel Assimilation: 2% ]

  [ Critical Warning: Any energy consumption below the 1% threshold will result in the deletion of core memory sectors ]

  [ Solution: Absorb more… Immediately ]

  The battlefield was no longer a forest.

  It had become a crucible of melting devastation.

  Yuma stood at the heart of a dying world, his knuckles drained white from the crushing grip he kept on the hilt of his shattered blade—as though it were the final thread binding him to existence itself. Behind him, the Great Tree groaned beneath the suffocating weight of the dragon’s heat, its charred leaves drifting down like funeral ash to blanket the earth.

  He drew a sharp breath, tasting the smoke and scorched soil, feeling the tremor of the ground beneath him.

  Before him, the two giants—the Tol—towered like shifting mountains of blood-soaked flesh and iron muscle. Their roars shook the ground to its roots, their fetid breath rolling outward in waves of damp soil and ancient rot.

  Amid the ruin, Feldred crawled through the dirt like a broken insect. Stripped of his staff. Stripped of his false nobility. Yet the fanatic madness still boiled in his veins. He lifted his gaze toward the smoke-choked heavens—and hysterical laughter tore from his throat, slicing through the suffocating silence of terror.

  Yuma felt exhaustion beyond measure.

  Not fatigue of flesh.

  But erosion of spirit.

  Every cell in his ruined body screamed as the Vessel demanded tribute—power far beyond the boundaries of his humanity.

  He paused, if only for a heartbeat, feeling the ache in his lungs, the burn of his wounded side, and the weight of the lives he had sworn to protect. The world seemed to tremble with anticipation.

  Then—

  The heavens trembled beneath the deafening roar of Obsidios.

  Something shifted.

  The veil of pain lifted from Yuma’s eyes.

  What remained were twin shards of cold blue flint, burning with an unyielding promise of vengeance.

  He whispered—his voice cutting through flame and storm like a sharpened blade:

  “If this body is to shatter here and now… then let it become an unquenchable furnace. I will gather every atom of this pain… I will smelt it in my own forge… and I will trample beneath my feet every god who dares rejoice at our ruin or defile our brokenness.”

  Feldred shrieked, pointing with a trembling finger—terror and ecstasy intertwined.

  “Look! The Lord of Eternal Flame descends! You are nothing but dust before his wind, Yuma! You giants—leave nothing of him! Crush him! Grind his bones until they scatter like ash across the ruins of his precious village!”

  Yuma did not answer.

  Words were luxuries for the dying.

  Instead—

  He gathered what remained of himself.

  And in a blink—

  His battered body became a jagged streak of lightning, tearing through stillness to collide with destiny.

  He had already surpassed the limits of his established power. Or rather—he had burned through every soul he had absorbed. Only his own remained. And now it began to burn.

  Pain gnawed at his essence, flames racing through the corridors of his consciousness. He did not slow. He surged forward. Faster than perception. Leaving behind nothing but the spectral afterimage of glowing blue eyes.

  He struck—not at armored chests—

  But at foundations.

  His blade screamed beneath celestial strain as it carved through the tendons of both giants in one fluid, merciless arc.

  They did not fall.

  They collapsed.

  Mountains of ruined flesh crashing earthward.

  For a moment, Yuma caught his breath, staggering over the ruins, tasting iron and ash on his tongue. Smoke burned his eyes. The Elven people froze, staring in horror and awe.

  Before their massive heads could even strike dirt—

  His blade flashed again.

  Two horizontal strokes.

  Silent.

  Absolute.

  The giants were decapitated before their nerves could understand pain.

  Grandeur reduced to twitching ruin.

  Yuma stepped over their convulsing remains.

  His gaze fixed upon Feldred.

  And there—

  Arrogance dissolved.

  Replaced by primal terror.

  “What are you doing? Stay back!” Feldred scrambled through the mud. “Do you mock me, mortal?”

  He gestured wildly toward Obsidios’ looming presence.

  “I am witness to his eternity! I am the one who will remain immortal—to watch the world burn and be reborn!”

  He smiled.

  Spiteful. Twisted.

  He raised both hands.

  “Vanish, mortal!”

  From his palms, shadows erupted—coiling into colossal serpents of obsidian.

  They lunged like venomous comets.

  Yuma dipped with instinctive grace, the first serpent hissing past.

  The second curved toward his back—

  He did not turn to flee.

  He stepped into it.

  One clean stroke.

  Shadow severed midair.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  He never slowed.

  Feldred fell to his knees.

  Yuma stood over him like judgment made flesh.

  The moment itself seemed to whisper:

  Are you finished?

  But Feldred grinned wider.

  “You will witness his power… and submit… as I did. Upon reflection… perhaps I should have run further… with her.”

  Yuma lifted his sword—not to kill—

  But to shatter pride with the pommel.

  Feldred moved.

  Dark energy surged in his wrist.

  Yuma moved faster.

  He inverted his grip.

  Steel answered treachery.

  The blade buried deep into the traitor’s body.

  Feldred collapsed.

  Yet even in death—

  His desperate strike had found flesh.

  Yuma’s flank split open.

  Crimson spilled.

  And with it—fading power.

  [ System Notification: Focus Achieved ]

  [ Traitor’s Essence Absorbed: Soul of Feldred ]

  [ Vessel Assimilation: Increased to 15% ]

  [ Warning: Physiological state in critical danger ]

  The battle had ended.

  But the omen had not.

  Luna had slain the last of the beasts and rushed toward him, uneven steps driven by instinct as Obsidios rained hellfire from above.

  She found him beside Feldred’s corpse, gripping his bleeding side.

  “He deserved that end… and more,” she whispered.

  Then fear overtook her features.

  “Yuma, you’re bleeding—”

  “I’m fine,” he cut in, voice strained yet steady in her presence. “Just a flesh wound.”

  He raised his shattered blade toward the heavens.

  “We’re not finished. The true nightmare still hovers above.”

  The earth ruptured.

  Obsidios’ flames shattered the crystalline shield.

  Burning shards fell like meteors.

  Yuma lunged to push Luna aside—

  Too late.

  A lash of black-red fire struck her arm.

  The breath left him.

  Something broke.

  No—

  Something awakened.

  Dark. Jagged. Predatory.

  The Vessel did not pulse.

  It roared.

  “Luna… give me your bow. Get away.”

  She felt it.

  The weight of his fury.

  She obeyed.

  He took the bow.

  He did not draw it.

  He commanded it.

  Energy spiraled at the arrowhead, devouring air into a vortex of deep blue light that warped space itself.

  “You brought this upon yourself.”

  The arrow released—

  Thunder detonating within a storm.

  Not an arrow—

  But concentrated spite wrapped in lightning.

  It tore through the sky toward Obsidios’ skull.

  The dragon shifted at the final instant.

  The arrow missed the head—

  But struck the molten wing.

  Electrified it.

  The Eternal Dragon recoiled midair.

  “Impossible! My wing?! Who dares wound a god?!”

  The bow disintegrated into ash in Yuma’s hands.

  He stood pale.

  Bleeding.

  Burning with multiplied rage.

  Then—

  White.

  Not fire.

  Dawn.

  An ancient voice vibrated in his bones.

  Asterion.

  「 What a stubborn little blacksmith you are… For millennia we fought, and neither spilled the other’s blood. I searched eternity for thrill… and found it burning in you. 」

  The voice rose like starlight.

  「 Absorb my essence, successor. Turn this ruined garden into a blade. End the legend of the Eternal. Remember… I am Asterion. 」

  The Great Tree’s crystal tore free.

  A falling star.

  It struck earth before Yuma.

  He smiled—blood-streaked.

  “What an arrogant dragon…”

  His palm touched crystal.

  The sword did not absorb.

  It devoured.

  A vortex of transparent energy spiraled upward, lifting his hair, mending torn flesh, rewriting bone and blood with myth.

  The shattered blade grew.

  Hard light extended from broken steel.

  Reforged.

  Majestic.

  Unbreakable.

  Upon it, ancient words burned:

  「 The Void does not break Existence… And he who carries the Soul of the Dragon shall turn the page of Eternity. 」

  Light faded.

  The Great Tree began to collapse.

  Its essence surrendered.

  Branches withering.

  Obsidios roared.

  A cry that shook the horizons.

  Yuma saw the hellfire in the sky.

  He did not jump.

  He launched.

  Lightning ascending.

  Sword raised.

  It pulsed.

  Expanded.

  Pulsed again.

  A blue star descending upon divinity.

  Shock flickered across Obsidios’ face.

  The explosion tore horizons apart.

  The dragon plummeted.

  Struck earth.

  Turned land into a shattered valley.

  Yuma descended with fury—

  Then realized—

  He was falling.

  Uncontrolled.

  (Perhaps that leap was reckless…)

  Ground surged upward.

  He twisted.

  Energy wrapped him in crystalline mass.

  Impact.

  BOOM.

  Obsidios rose, enraged, destroying everything in reach.

  “Who dares strike my majesty?! Show yourself—or I will reduce this world to oblivion!”

  From ruin—

  Yuma rose.

  Cold.

  Unshaken.

  “You? Little insect?” the dragon growled.

  Yuma brushed dust from his shoulder.

  “Special? You?”

  He raised his blade.

  “I will not let Asterion’s sacrifice be wasted. Your eternity ends—here.”

  Time slowed.

  The dragon’s tail lashed.

  Impact.

  Time resumed.

  Yuma was hurled through stone.

  Bedrock shattered.

  He rose—

  Too slow.

  A colossal foot descended.

  Crushed earth.

  Pressed with unimaginable weight.

  The ground broke.

  He did not.

  Light glowed beneath that foot.

  For a heartbeat, the world forgot how to breathe.

  The weight of a god pressed down—yet something beneath it refused to break.

  It was not bone.

  It was will.

  Resistance.

  Obsidios pressed harder.

  But felt—

  Not breaking bones.

  He lifted his foot.

  Flames gathering.

  Yuma erupted from ash—

  Struck the dragon’s jaw from below.

  Obsidios unleashed fire.

  Yuma leapt back—

  Caught the tail attempting to crush him again.

  “You stubborn insect!”

  The dragon roared.

  Yuma screamed—

  And hurled the massive tail aside.

  With impossible speed—

  He ran along the dragon’s body.

  Blade flashing.

  Relentless.

  Beginning the merciless severing of Obsidios’ limbs.

  The dragon’s body began to glow.

  A terrifying red aura thickened, blazing, as if the heart of hell itself was being reborn.

  Yuma stepped back instinctively, fear tightening his features.

  It wasn’t the sword trembling this time—

  It was his hands.

  He knew that dragon would not fall easily.

  Previous strikes—mere scratches.

  Already beginning to heal.

  Absodius had always been fast—

  But now, his speed surpassed human comprehension.

  Time stopped.

  Yuma saw Absodius’ jaws open before him, a furnace of annihilation about to erupt.

  He couldn’t dodge.

  He couldn’t retreat.

  The hellfire had already been unleashed.

  Time resumed.

  Yuma’s scream tore through the air.

  He burned.

  The infernal flames poured over him without mercy.

  The crystal surged madly, hardening, expanding, forming a desperate shield against the torrent of fire.

  The dragon halted, lifting his head, gazing at Yuma’s battered body.

  Yuma did not fall.

  He did not kneel.

  He stood… without expression.

  Absodius turned his gaze toward the Elven people fleeing the battlefield,

  the guards and Eldrid pushing their people to escape with their lives.

  “I will not turn your body to ash immediately…

  I will make an example of the audacity of an insect like you!

  Witness!… Witness!

  You and Asterion shall watch those you try to protect melt beneath my eternal flames!”

  Energy began gathering within the core of his jaws, his massive body braced against the earth.

  The wind roared.

  Reality itself trembled around the heart of that power.

  “No… you won’t…” Yuma muttered, struggling to move.

  Then… he stopped thinking.

  He remembered Luna.

  He remembered Lini.

  He remembered the cruelty they had endured at the hands of arrogant souls.

  He remembered their sorrow.

  He remembered the promise he had made to protect them.

  Like a colossal beam, the destructive energy surged toward the Elven people.

  But before it—

  Before that unstoppable wave of obliteration—

  Stood Yuma.

  Defending with both hands.

  With his entire body.

  With his pain.

  With his fractured ribs.

  With burns devouring his very spirit.

  It was not blind instinct.

  It was full awareness of what would happen if he lost those precious to him.

  The crystal hardened further, expanding into a massive, jagged barrier—

  And began to crack under the force of the oncoming energy.

  Yuma screamed—

  Not in pain…

  But in resolve.

  The beam shattered through the crystal shield,

  But Yuma thrust his sword behind his back, forming a vast barrier behind him,

  Turning his own body into the front line against the surging power.

  The last fragments of the laser-like assault scattered back into the sky.

  Yuma dropped slowly to his feet, swaying violently.

  “Do you dare…” he muttered.

  The dragon fell silent.

  Then Yuma roared,

  “Do you dare harm those dear to my heart!”

  He lifted his head, his neck bent yet unbroken,

  His eye blazing.

  Absodius stepped back.

  His eyes widened—

  It was his body that recoiled, not his mind.

  In that instant, Yuma left behind nothing but an aura blending blue and crimson—

  A mere afterimage of where he had stood.

  The dragon staggered, struggling to focus.

  Suddenly—

  He felt two feet standing upon his head.

  The dragon raged, attempting to take flight, thrashing his head left and right to throw Yuma off—

  But Yuma clung to the massive, burning skull.

  He forgot his pain.

  Rage itself became impossible for his mind to process.

  Yuma drove his sword’s blade into the dragon’s head.

  The blade was short.

  The dragon’s fury intensified as he ascended into the black clouds above.

  Then—

  A light split the heavens.

  A blue radiance severed the darkness.

  The Elven people stopped in that divine moment, forgetting even their fear,

  Witnessing the light descending from the skies.

  And in that instant, Yuma unleashed a tremendous surge of power through the blade embedded in the arrogant beast’s skull.

  The light vanished.

  And the world bore witness to the fall of that colossal being—

  A creature born of volcanic tectonics and the eternity of hellfire.

  He crashed down like a lifeless corpse.

  Beside his head—

  Yuma,

  Who had unleashed the last of his strength.

  The dust cleared.

  Luna rushed forward, stumbling through her tears,

  Eldrid and the guards close behind her,

  Toward Yuma—who had sacrificed everything, even his own body, to protect them.

  Luna knelt beside his torn, ruined form.

  She placed her hand upon his chest,

  Her pointed ear near his lips.

  Silence reigned for several long moments…

  Then—

  Yuma gasped beside her ear.

  And breathed… unconscious.

  That breath was only the beginning—

  Not the end.

  Many beautiful…

  And sorrowful…

  And cruel events

  Still awaited him.

  He had not yet been forged.