Pain.

  If the previous "inheritance" felt like a soul being thrown into a meat grinder, then the current feeling was like being frozen in ancient ice, a torment that permeated every fiber of his being.

  Sergei tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids felt as heavy as lead. He tried to move his fingers, but couldn't feel his limbs. His body felt as if it no longer belonged to him, becoming a heavy, cold vessel. Yet, in this deathly paralysis, his perception became sharper than ever before. He could clearly "see" everything around him without the need for light, but through the ripples of energy flowing in the air. It was a strange sensation, as if the entire space had become an extension of his sense of touch.

  He was slumped on the broken stone throne. The "platinum divine armor" that symbolized light had completely disappeared, replaced by a hard shell like charred obsidian covering his entire body, making him look like a charred corpse just taken from the pyre.

  [System self-check in progress... Body reconstruction progress: 1%...]

  [Warning: Energy depletion. Forced entry into hibernation protection mode.]

  The unfamiliar mechanical voice in his mind rang out again, then fell silent.

  Just then, heavy footsteps sounded.

  “—God, what a magnificent divine punishment this is.”

  That was Eric’s voice. Sergei had tolerated this guy, a priest from the Papal States, in his squad for three whole years. As an "assistant" sent by the Papal States, Eric always hid at the back during battles, but was always at the forefront when it came to dividing the spoils.

  Sergei "saw" Eric stumble into the hall. He didn't look for Sergei, but went straight for the "charred figure" on the throne.

  “The Demon King… the Demon King is dead!” Eric’s voice was filled with barely concealed ecstasy. He stared greedily at the figure on the throne, oblivious to the falling rubble around him. “If only I could take this back… the position of the next Cardinal…”

  He pulled a dark red crystal from his pocket—a Soul Imprisoning Gem. This was contraband from the Vatican, usually used to imprison the souls of heretics, condemning them to eternal damnation.

  “In the name of God, I command you… to submit!” Eric pressed the gem hard against Sergei’s forehead (or the spot on his black visor). A vicious suction force came from within.

  Sergei, paralyzed, felt a chill run down his spine. If he were sucked into this thing, he would truly be finished.

  But the next second, something unexpected happened.

  The magic that attempted to extract his soul vanished the moment it touched the black shell covering Sergei’s body. Instead of drawing out his soul, Sergei felt his body instinctively "swallow" a mouthful of the gem’s magic.

  Click.

  A crack appeared on the surface of the ruby, and its luster dimmed.

  “What? Empty?” Eric stared in astonishment at the broken stone in his hand, his face instantly turning grim and ugly. “It’s been completely destroyed? Damn it… That old bastard, the First Demon King, actually preferred to self-destruct rather than leave behind his soul?”

  “Stop, Eric.”

  A cold female voice rang out, accompanied by the clanging of metal armor.

  Catherine, the princess of Valhalla, the Ironblood Empire, and the strongest shield of the Hero Squad, entered the hall carrying her tower shield, scarred by swords. Her deep blue eyes were filled with weariness and sorrow.

  She looked around, her gaze searching the empty hall, her voice trembling slightly: “Where is Sergei? Where is he?”

  Eric put away the broken gem, put on a hypocritical face of utter grief, and made the sign of the cross: “Your Highness Catherine, please accept my condolences. You saw the explosion just now… It was the result of 'Kingdom Comes' colliding with the Abyss. Our hero has returned to the embrace of light to purify the evil of this world.”

  “Return…?” Catherine swayed. She looked at the indescribable, charred black figure on the throne, then at the metal fragment belonging to the holy sword “Breath of Dawn" that remained on the ground. She slowly walked to the throne.

  At that moment, Sergei could feel Catherine’s breath so close to his face. He wanted to speak, to tell her "I'm still alive," to tell her "don't believe that charlatan," but he couldn't move a single finger.

  “He was always like that.” Catherine’s voice lowered, tinged with a sob. “Always charging ahead alone, leaving his back to us… even if it was the last…”

  Clang—!

  The sound of a longsword being drawn from its sheath.

  Eric was startled and backed away, stammering, “W-what do you want to do? This demon king’s corpse is the property of the Papal States! We’re taking it back to parade it through the streets—”

  “Roll.”

  Catherine’s sword tip was pointed directly at the priest’s throat, her battle aura erupting like the frigid winds of the far north. “This is a warrior’s battlefield, not your politicians’ slaughterhouse. Since the Demon King has fallen in battle, he should retain his final dignity. If you dare touch this corpse, or try to use Sergei’s sacrifice as a tool for your own enrichment…”

  “I’ll leave you here to be buried with them.”

  The killing intent emanating from the Ironblood Empire was unmistakable. Eric swallowed hard; he knew the temperament of this "Valkyrie."

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  “Fine… fine! I won’t move! Anyway, my soul is gone, I’m just an empty shell!” Eric raised his hands, his eyes darting around. “Now that the mission is complete, I must report to His Holiness the Pope immediately. This is a victory for all mankind!”

  He glanced greedily at the scattered books around the main hall one last time, and finding no gold or silver treasures, he turned and left cursing, without even offering a single prayer for his dead "teammates."

  “This is the Vatican,” Sergei sneered inwardly.

  “I should go too.”

  The mage, Ronan, who had remained silent, spoke. He floated in mid-air, holding a recording staff, and kept scanning the residual energy in the hall. As an observer from the Floating Islands, Ronan wasn't interested in the dead; he was interested in the data from the battle that had just taken place.

  “The spatial structure here is very unstable and could collapse at any moment.” Ronan pushed up his glasses and glanced at Catherine. “Aren’t you leaving? The Ironblood Empire’s reinforcements are waiting for you down there.”

  “I want to… stay a little longer,” Catherine said, her head bowed.

  Ronan shrugged. A split second before he turned and flew out the door, Sergei keenly sensed that Ronan’s fingers twitched slightly. A tiny, transparent crystal, resembling an eyeball, was quietly stuck in the shadow of a stone pillar high in the main hall. An All-Seeing Eye—advanced surveillance magic from the Floating Islands. This guy was definitely up to no good. Sergei’s alarm bells were ringing, but he was powerless to do anything about it and could only watch helplessly as this "surveillance camera" remained above his head.

  Only Catherine remained in the main hall. She sheathed her sword and silently walked to the throne. She removed her helmet, revealing a cascade of golden hair. Instead of touching the "demon king's corpse," she knelt down and picked up a fragment of the holy sword from the ground.

  “The war is over, Sergei.”

  She gripped the shard tightly, its sharp edge cutting her palm, blood dripping onto the black floor.

  “You said that after this battle, you would come back to Winterhold with me to see the snow.” She gave a bitter smile, and tears finally streamed down her face. “Liar.”

  She stood up and gave a standard knightly salute to the empty throne—a tribute to the strong, whether to a fallen hero or a demon king who had died in battle.

  “Bye now.”

  Catherine took one last, deep look at the ruins, put on her helmet, and turned to leave. Her back was straight and resolute, but Sergei knew that from this day forward, the smiling girl was dead, and the one who would return alive would be the ruthless heir of the Ironblood Empire.

  The door slammed shut.

  The world returned to deathly silence. Sergei felt a void in his heart. Was this all there was to his life as a "hero"? Used, sacrificed, and in the end, only able to watch his friends weep for him as a monster.

  [No vital signs detected.]

  [Taking over control of the area...]

  [Illegal surveillance equipment detected. In progress...]

  The system’s voice sounded at the right time.

  Sizzle.

  High up in the main hall, the "All-Knowing Eye" left behind by Ronan suddenly emitted a plume of black smoke, as if it had been crushed by an invisible hand.

  [Threat eliminated. Host, now is not the time for sentimentality.]

  The voice had changed; it was no longer the mechanical tone from before, but carried a hint of… human mockery? It was like the frivolous tone of the First Demon King.

  [Now that you've survived, you need to learn how to read bills.]

  “What…does that mean?” Sergei asked with difficulty in his mind.

  A semi-transparent red screen was projected directly onto his retina. It was a "Real-time Radar Map of the Area Surrounding the Demon King's Castle."

  At the edge of the radar, the three green dots that originally represented the "Brave Squad" were receding into the distance. But on the other side, countless red dots of light surged into the outer barrier of the Demon King’s castle like a tide.

  [Warning: Large-scale armed intrusion detected.]

  [Identification Code: Osia Commercial Alliance, 7th Privateering Fleet.]

  [Troop Assessment: 20,000 heavy infantry, 500 magical mechs, and several mercenary groups.]

  [Objective of Invasion: To plunder the power core, dismantle magical structures, and reclaim demonic slaves.]

  Sergei was stunned. No sooner had the Brave Squad left than these Allied forces, who had been "supporting" the city from outside, tore up the "post-war joint trusteeship" agreement. They didn't even care whether the Demon King's corpse was cold or not; like a flock of vultures attracted by the smell of rotting flesh, they couldn't wait to devour the ruins of the city.

  “Oh…”

  On this empty, cold, and dark throne, the fingers of the previously immobile "charred figure" suddenly trembled slightly. An uncontrollable rage, mixed with the greedy hunger for the living brought on by the Black Hole Armor, ignited in his no-beating heart.

  Want to eat up the family’s bloodline?

  Sergei’s eyes, hidden beneath his black visor, slowly opened. His once golden pupils had now turned a deep, dark purple.

  “Then let’s take a look…” His voice was hoarse, like two rusty pieces of iron rubbing against each other.

  “…Who is eating whom in the end?”

  The paralysis that felt like his soul was frozen finally began to subside, replaced by an indescribable… hunger. It wasn’t hunger in his stomach, but rather every cell in his body screaming for energy.

  Sergei tried to prop himself up. The movement, which should have been heavy, was now terrifyingly light. With just a slight effort, the hard stone armrest of the throne crumbled into dust with a crisp sound.

  “…Is the force control system malfunctioning?” He subconsciously gave a technical assessment.

  He lowered his head and looked at his hands. Gone were the calloused hands that had held a sword for years. What came into view were a pair of claws covered in black, fluid metal. The blackness wasn't just a simple color; it was like a frozen night, and with each clench of his fist, the surrounding light was silently swallowed up by this shell.

  Sergei stood up and walked to the broken floor mirror on one side of the hall. The image reflected in the mirror was no longer that of the blond-haired, blue-eyed "Dawn Warrior" clad in platinum divine armor.

  That was a monster.

  Standing nearly two meters tall, its entire body was encased in a jet-black chitinous shell and metal skeleton. Its face was a smooth black mask devoid of any features, except for two eerie purple flames burning where the eyes should have been.

  “Has it been possessed? Or… is this the underlying ‘source code’?” Sergei reached out and touched his face; it felt cold and hard.

  [Warning: Abnormal soul fluctuation detected.]

  [Disconnecting from the "Holy Network" (Divine Network connection)...]

  Suddenly, a violent ringing in his ears almost made him kneel down. It felt like an invisible data cable that had been stuck in the back of his head for twenty years had been violently pulled out.

  [Connection interrupted.]

  [Host detected to have broken free of the mind control protocol of "Light God Sol".]

  [Uncompressing sealed deep memory sectors.]

  Memory sector?