Kiel''s Perspective:


    Chief Father. The village that was once my home. My friends. Celia.


    In a matter of moments, I lost it all. The air hung heavy with smoke, choking and bitter, yet I forced myself to walk forward. Behind me, Ronan, Elise and Fiona remained, their presence nothing but a shadow in my mind.


    I didn’t want anything to do with them anymore. Not Ronan, not his friends. Nothing. I knew their intentions were clear—they would hunt and kill Celia. That much was certain. I had to find her before they could. It was the only thing I could do. The only thing left that mattered.


    I left with almost nothing but myself and the memories of what once was. The village chief had treated me like his own son. Though, to be fair, there were times he worked me like a slave. But I didn’t mind it then. I had a home, a place to belong. Now, looking back, it hurt to realize I couldn’t even give his ash-covered corpse a proper burial.


    I pushed those thoughts aside as I made my way to the nearest town. There, I planned to register as an adventurer. My abilities earned me the rank of A-Class, thanks to my aptitude for both cursed magic and elemental spells. Still, they told me I lacked experience—and they weren’t wrong. Knowledge was one thing, but without experience to back it up, it was little more than theory.


    From there, I set off on my journey. I ventured solo, chasing shadows, hoping to find Lyla and Celia. But no matter how far I traveled or how thoroughly I searched, I found nothing. No trace of them. Lyla was clever, always careful, and now, it seemed, she had taken extra precautions to cover their tracks.


    And so, time passed. My travels carried me across Celestine, each step weighted with a mix of determination and frustration. A year flew by in what felt like an instant. I was twelve now, fending for myself in the wilds, struggling to keep from being devoured—literally and figuratively.


    Still, my search yielded nothing. No leads. No clues. Nothing.


    Until recently.


    Rumors began to spread about a party that had been completely wiped out during an S-Class dungeon raid. It was the kind of news that sent shockwaves through the adventurer circles. A few days later, the whispers grew stranger. People claimed to have seen a chained curse locked in battle with a masked figure, whose body seemed to be deteriorating into fragments of itself.


    It sounded unbelievable. Ridiculous, even. But there was one word that stuck out to me—chain.


    That single word was enough. I had to investigate.


    Once I arrived at the village where the rumored battle had taken place, I immediately noticed some familiar faces—Ronan and Elise. My heart raced, but I kept my composure, trying to avoid them and move away quietly. It seemed they felt the same; neither of them gave me so much as a glance.


    Just as I thought I could slip away unnoticed, the village mayor’s voice rang out, calling all the adventurers to gather. He had an offer—one that even I couldn’t ignore. He pleaded for assistance with a growing threat and promised a reward of 1,000 silver coins upon completion. That was roughly 100 gold. For someone like me, barely scraping by and starving half the time, it was too good to pass up.


    The mayor explained the issue. At night, monsters and demons would spill out of a nearby dungeon, wreaking havoc on the village. Our task was simple in theory: block the dungeon entrance to stop the creatures from emerging. Straightforward enough, or so it seemed.


    I decided to take the job. Unfortunately for me, so did Ronan and Elise.


    When night fell, the plan was for the adventurers to sneak past the monsters and block the entrance quietly. It sounded efficient on paper, but the reality was more complicated. Trust was a scarce commodity among adventurers; everyone suspected betrayal for a bigger share of the reward. Instead of working together, most groups and individuals kept to themselves, unwilling to risk cooperation.


    The result was a scattered and disorganized effort. Each party moved independently toward the dungeon entrance, relying on their own strategies.


    For me, I had an advantage. I had learned a cursed spell that granted invisibility and masked my mana aura completely. While the others crept cautiously, I strolled casually, hidden from sight as I made my way toward the dungeon entrance.


    The monsters lurked around the area, their grotesque forms illuminated faintly by the moonlight. I moved silently, undisturbed by the chaos that surrounded me. My only focus was reaching the entrance and completing the task—no distractions, no unnecessary risks.


    “SOMEONE HELP ME!” A scream pierced the air near the dungeon entrance, desperate and raw.


    “Please! No… no, no! I don’t want to die!”


    The terror in their voice sent a chill down my spine. Without hesitation, I sprinted toward the source of the cries. As I closed the distance, the sight before me rooted me in place for a moment—a nightmare incarnate.


    The dungeon boss had emerged.


    A group of four adventurers, likely C-Class by their lack of coordination, stood trembling before it. Their plan to block the dungeon entrance had backfired, and the creature loomed over them, a monstrous entity I’d only ever heard about in legends.


    Malgareth.


    The stories hadn’t done it justice.


    The Abyssal Sovereign stood nearly fifteen feet tall, a grotesque figure that merged monstrous power with an unsettling, dark elegance. Its skeletal frame was encased in chitinous black armor, shimmering with an unnatural, otherworldly glow. Crimson veins pulsed beneath its surface, illuminating the shadows with a malevolent light.


    Its gaunt face was concealed behind an ornate mask of jagged metal, adorned with glowing runes that pulsed rhythmically like a heartbeat. Towering above its head, two obsidian horns crackled with crimson arcs of energy, bathing the area in an eerie, flickering glow.


    Malgareth’s six spindly arms each ended in claws that glinted like razors, their edges capable of slicing through steel with contemptuous ease. Its lower half was a nightmarish amalgam of arachnid features, eight segmented legs moving with a speed and grace that seemed impossible for something so large. The underside of its spider-like form glowed with molten energy, casting sickly orange light across the ground as it moved.


    The oppressive aura it exuded was suffocating. Dread filled the air like poison, thick and choking, forcing weaker adventurers to their knees before they could even think to run. Malgareth’s glowing crimson eyes locked onto his prey, unblinking and devoid of mercy.


    When it spoke, its voice was a thunderous amalgamation of grinding stone and a venomous hiss, each word a promise of death.


    “You dare invade my domain?”


    The adventurers, frozen with fear, scrambled to retaliate.


    “Flames of the Inferno, consume my enemies!” one screamed, their hands trembling as a torrent of fire roared toward the towering beast.


    “Raging Tempest, carve the winds!” cried another, summoning blades of air that hurtled toward Malgareth with desperate speed.


    “Earth’s Wrath, break upon my foe!” bellowed a third, slamming their fist into the ground, summoning jagged spikes of stone to pierce the monster’s legs.


    “Frozen Chains of the Tundra, bind this evil!” the last one pleaded, unleashing a chilling sphere of ice aimed to trap the beast in place.


    Their combined power was overwhelming, filling the night with a cacophony of roaring flames, howling winds, shattering stone, and cracking ice. The dungeon trembled under the sheer force of their magic as it converged on Malgareth.


    But it was their greatest mistake.


    The runes on Malgareth’s armor ignited, flaring with blinding crimson light. The Shadowforge Carapace absorbed the attacks effortlessly, devouring the magic like a ravenous void. The veins on its body pulsed violently, glowing brighter with every spell it consumed.


    Then, it laughed.


    A deep, guttural sound reverberated through the air, filled with malice and scorn. The adventurers’ faces paled as the realization struck—this wasn’t a fight. This was an execution.


    "Ahahhaahh......"


    “You dare challenge me with such pitiful power?” Malgareth’s voice thundered, each word dripping with contempt. “Now, behold the price of your arrogance.”


    With a single, deliberate motion, Malgareth raised one clawed hand. From the molten veins coursing through its body, an orb of corrupted energy began to form, pulsating with volatile power. It grew larger and brighter until, with a flick of his wrist, it shattered into four thread of pure shadow.


    Each thread honed in on its target, merciless and precise.


    “Run!” one of the adventurers screamed, but escape was futile.


    The first thread impaled the fire mage mid-stride, twisting through his chest. The flames he had summoned turned against him, igniting his body from within. His screams were brief, ending in a shower of ash scattered across the bloodstained ground.


    The second thread lashed out at the wind mage, coiling around them like a serpent. The air blades they had conjured became weapons of betrayal, slicing through their own flesh until nothing remained but a mangled, lifeless form.


    The third thread smashed through the earth mage’s hastily constructed shield, shattering it into jagged fragments. Those fragments embedded themselves into his chest as the tendril lifted him high into the air before slamming him into the ground with a sickening crunch. His broken body lay motionless, blood pooling beneath him.


    The final adventurer, the ice mage, backed away in horror as the last tendril slithered toward her, its movements deliberate and taunting.


    “No… please… I don’t want to die…” she whimpered, tears streaming down her face.


    Malgareth offered no mercy. The thread struck, wrapping her in a cocoon of frost corrupted by shadow.


    "AHHHHHHH"


    Her screams echoed as the ice tightened, constricting her until the cocoon shattered into shards, leaving nothing behind but an empty silence.


    The dungeon fell still. Malgareth lowered his arm, the crimson glow of his armor dimming as the energy subsided.


    A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, low and malevolent, as his crimson eyes surveyed the remaining adventurers hiding in the shadows. His gaze lingered, promising that their time would come.


    Malgareth had proven his dominion. This was his world, and all who entered it were nothing more than prey.


    The Sovereign of the Abyss Malgareth turned his gaze toward the rest of the group, his dark eyes glinting with malice. His aura was suffocating, each breath heavy with despair.


    “Who’s next?” His voice slithered like a blade across bare skin, sharp and unyielding.


    I was frozen in place, paralyzed by the scene of carnage before me. Blood stained the dungeon floor, bodies lying lifeless, and the stench of despair hung heavy. None of us stood a chance against the Malgareth. We were meant to block the dungeon, not face one of the most feared bosses in this region.


    I gritted my teeth, debating whether to flee. The promise of a reward paled against the certainty of death. Just as I prepared to cut my losses and escape, Malgareth’s abyssal gaze landed on me.


    “Hiding, are we?” His voice carried a cruel amusement, dripping with venomous malice. I felt every fiber of my being revolt against his words, my body locked in place. His eyes gleamed with the thrill of the hunt as his aura spread further, clawing at my very soul.


    He wasn’t seeing me—he was sensing me. The faintest motion, the subtlest breath, would give me away. I stopped moving entirely, holding my breath as though my life depended on it.


    But Malgareth took a step forward. Then another. His clawed hand twitched, brimming with dark energy. He was closing in, and I was utterly powerless.


    A faint crackling sound broke the tension—a slow, deliberate crunch of footsteps against the dungeon floor. Malgareth’s eyes shifted slightly.


    From the shadows emerged Ronan, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, a calm and unbothered demeanor contrasting the oppressive atmosphere. His lack of a visible weapon made him seem absurdly overconfident, almost suicidal.


    Malgareth let out a low growl, a sound that resonated like the grinding of bones. “Another human walking to the slaughter?”


    Ronan stopped, meeting Malgareth’s cold, unfeeling gaze. He smirked, the faint flicker of heat radiating from his body. “We’ll see about that.”


    As Malgareth narrowed his eyes, Ronan spread his arms wide, his voice rising in a chant that reverberated with an otherworldly cadence.


    “Velkaris, King of Flames, Sovereign of the Infernal Pyre,” he began, his words reverberating through the chamber. “I summon you. Take this vessel. Burn away my weakness. Reduce this abyssal filth to ash.”


    The air grew heavy with heat as flames erupted around Ronan, spiraling upward like a living entity. His voice rose, a cry of pain and fury as fire consumed him. But beneath the agony, another voice began to rise—a deep, guttural growl that shook the dungeon.


    When the flames subsided, Ronan was gone. In his place stood Velkaris.


    His eyes blazed like molten gold, his very presence searing the air around him. The faint crackle of embers followed every step as he approached Malgareth.


    “So this is the Sovereign of the Abyss?” Velkaris’s voice was cold and mocking. “A rabid beast pretending to be a king?”


    Malgareth’s grin faded, replaced by a snarl. “And you are a king who hides behind mortal flesh. What does that make you, summoned-pawn?”


    Velkaris tilted his head, a cruel smile curling across his lips. “It makes me your executioner.”


    Malgareth roared, the sound shaking the walls, and unleashed a wave of dark energy that surged forward like an avalanche. The attack tore through the dungeon, threatening to obliterate everything in its path.


    Velkaris didn’t flinch. With a flick of his wrist, a blazing wall of fire erupted, swallowing the attack effortlessly. The flames roared, pushing back the darkness until it was nothing but ash.


    “You call that power?” Velkaris sneered, stepping through the smoke. “You’re not even worth the flames I waste on you.”


    Furious, Malgareth lunged, his massive claws slashing at Velkaris’s chest. But the King of Flames caught them mid-swing, his molten hands gripping them tightly. The sound of searing flesh filled the air as Velkaris leaned in, his fiery eyes boring into Malgareth’s.


    "Stronger monsters than you have crawled at my feet, begging for mercy," Velkaris said, his voice chillingly soft, yet dripping with malice. "I showed them none."


    With a violent shove, he sent Malgareth hurtling backward. The Abyssal Sovereign snarled, summoning every ounce of mana within him. The dungeon trembled as he prepared his ultimate attack, a sphere of all-consuming darkness that grew larger with each passing second.


    Velkaris smirked, unbothered. He raised his hand, conjuring a sphere of fire so dense it burned white-hot. The air shimmered with unbearable heat as he stepped back, a fiery bow forming in his grip.


    “Let’s end this,” he said, his tone dripping with finality.


    Malgareth unleashed his attack, the void screaming toward Velkaris with destructive force.


    Velkaris extended his hand with an unsettling calm, his movements measured and deliberate. Flames began to coil around his palm, swirling faster and tighter until they formed a searing sphere of molten energy. With a calculated step back, he pulled the fiery mass as if drawing a bowstring, the air around him distorting from the heat. His left hand rose, fingers outstretched, and a blazing bow materialized in his grip, its edges crackling with raw power. The arrow—radiant, blistering, and deadly—came into existence, its heat rivaling the inferno itself, gleaming with an unmistakable promise of destruction.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    The fiery arrow ripped through the void, splitting the abyssal wave in two before slamming into Malgareth’s chest. Flames erupted, consuming him entirely. His roars of fury and pain echoed through the dungeon as his massive form crumbled to ash.


    As the flames died down, Velkaris stood over the ashes, his expression cold and unfeeling. He turned his fiery gaze to the ashes, his lip curling in disgust.


    “You’re weak,” he said, his voice like a blade of flame. “A waste of my time.”


    The fire around him flickered and vanished, leaving Ronan’s unconscious form in its place. But the fear Velkaris left behind lingered, burning in my mind.


    I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. The display of power had burned itself into my mind. Velkaris was more than terrifying—he was an unstoppable force. And Ronan? He was no longer just a man. He was something far more dangerous.


    In that moment, one thing became clear: crossing him meant to face Velkaris—and that was a death I couldn’t even begin to comprehend.


    I didn’t bother going back for a reward. I hadn’t done anything to help. If anything, I felt a sense of dread. The thought of seeing Ronan again made my chest pain. His power wasn’t human—no, it was otherworldly. And now? I feared him.


    Leaving that dungeon wasn’t just about survival—it was about moving forward, about finding Celia before Ronan did. His strength was overwhelming, and she wouldn’t stand a chance against him. My only choice was to find her, take her far away, and keep her safe from whatever this nightmare was becoming.


    But fate, it seemed, had a twisted sense of humor.


    Not long after, rumors began to spread—whispers of villages burned to the ground, chains rattling in the night, and demons swarming the land. Each tale painted a vivid picture of chaos, and at the center of it all was a name: the Queen of Curses.


    They said she was captured once, only to have the town that held her wiped from existence mere days later. The very idea was terrifying. Celia had powers, that much I knew. But the nature of those powers? A mystery I couldn’t unravel.


    I chased those rumors relentlessly, hoping for a glimpse of her—some sign that she was still alive. Yet every time, I was too late. The ashes of a ruined village, the cries of survivors who spoke of chains and fire, and the creeping dread that she was slipping further out of reach.


    Four years passed like that. Four years of chasing shadows, hoping against hope that I’d find her before it was too late.


    Then, recently, I heard something. Down by the Southern Coasts, near a small village clinging to the cliffs, there were reports of a girl who matched Celia’s description. White hair, red eyes—there was no mistaking it. It had to be her.


    But the villagers didn’t mention anyone else.


    Lyla wasn’t with her.


    I couldn’t stop the knot that formed in my chest. What happened in these past years? What happened to her?


    The village was buzzing with activity when I arrived. Adventurers, ranging from C-rank to B-rank, swarmed the area, drawn by the growing bounty on the Queen of Curses. It wasn’t surprising. A target like Celia would lure every ambitious fool with a sword.


    And among them, standing awkwardly near the notice board, was someone who didn’t belong.


    An E-ranked adventurer—the lowest of the low.


    He had dark hair and piercing blue eyes, his muscular frame at odds with his ranking. A large sword hung at his side, the blade gleaming unnaturally even in the dull coastal light. I think someone mentioned his name—Kaiser, or something like that.


    I didn’t care much really.


    What could someone like him do in a situation like this?


    I was ready to find Celia, to save her from this cruel and dangerous world. But fate had other plans.


    Ronan.


    I hadn’t seen him in years, and yet, there he was, standing in my path as if he had been waiting for me all along. His expression was unreadable, but the moment he spoke, my chest pained with dread.


    "Kiel," he greeted, his voice eerily calm. "You''re here to avenge Toby and Mira as well, aren''t you?"


    My heart skipped a beat. "I... What do you mean?"


    "Don''t play dumb," Ronan snapped, his eyes narrowing. "Celia killed Toby and Mira. There’s no denying it."


    "Ronan, you’re blowing this out of propor—"


    He cut me off, his tone sharp and unforgiving. "Are you here to avenge our friends or not? Yes or no."


    His gaze burned into me, his words heavy with expectation.


    "Why the hell are you asking me this question?!" I shot back, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear.


    "You see..." He stepped closer, his presence suffocating. "Your life currently depends on your answer."


    I froze.


    "I told you once, and I’ll repeat it, Kiel. I’m going to take my revenge on her. I’ll make sure she never kills anyone again. Like she did with Mira and Toby. She deserves to die for it."


    "Ronan, try to calm down—"


    But he interrupted again, his voice rising with fiery determination. "And if you try to stop me... I’ll kill you first."


    A chill ran down my spine. His hand lifted, flames flickering to life as he prepared a fireball. The air around us grew hotter, oppressive, and I knew he was serious. My decision here would determine whether I lived or died.


    "So, Kiel," he said, his voice like a blade against my neck. "What’s it going to be? Avenging our friends or helping that witch?"


    My mind raced. I needed to stall him. To find Celia and protect her. But I couldn’t fight Ronan—not here, not now.


    "I..." I hesitated, my voice barely steady. Then I forced the lie. "I’m here to hunt her myself. I hated her since the day she destroyed our village. I’ve been training to kill her all this time."


    Ronan’s eyes lit up with approval, and his lips twisted into a sinister grin. "Glad to hear that. Now come with me. We’ll finish her off together." His laughter sent shivers down my spine.


    "Alright, Ronan. Let’s do this," I replied, feigning resolve.


    But inside, I was panicking. I had no intention of hurting Celia. At that moment, Ronan had me on death''s door. I couldn’t risk telling the truth. The only option was to play along—to find Celia first, get her as far from him as possible, and use my invisibility spell to help her escape.


    If Ronan realized I was lying, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill both of us.


    And so I followed him, the weight of my deception growing heavier with each step.


    When we finally found her, my heart clenched.


    Celia was siting in the distance, laughing with someone in a campsite. It was that same E-ranked adventurer I had seen earlier in the village—the one with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. They seemed... happy, like there wasn’t a care in the world.


    For just a moment, seeing her smile made me forget everything. It was all I wanted—to see her happy, safe, and free.


    "Stop zoning out, Kiel," Ronan’s cold voice snapped me back to reality. "Are you going to take the shot, or do you want me to end this in one blow?"


    I turned to him. His hands burned with a fiery aura, and his eyes held nothing but murderous intent.


    I had to make sure Ronan didn’t get anywhere near Celia. My plan was to make him believe I actually hated her. I would have to hurt her, to lie to her, to make her think I was the enemy. The thought of it made my heart pain, a sickening weight settling in my chest. But it was the only way to protect her from Ronan.


    I wanted to die in that moment—just end it all. How could I betray her like this? But it wasn’t about me. It was about keeping her safe. Ronan had to believe the lie, and I had to play my part.


    "I’ll do it, Ronan," I said, my voice trembling with the lie. "Try not to kill her quickly. She deserves to suffer first, and honestly, I’ve been wanting to spend the night torturing her. So don’t mind me."


    His laugh was cold, almost satisfied. "Ahh... Sounds like you really care. Well, I don’t care as long as she dies by morning."


    I forced myself to nod, feeling my heart break with each word. I turned toward Celia and used my elemental magic to create a fireball and launched that E-ranked adventurer away, creating a path between me and her. I rooted Celia in place, making sure she couldn’t move. My plan was simple: get Ronan far enough away from us, then cast a sleeping spell to buy us time, then use my cursed invisibility magic to shield her and escape.


    I had to make her truly hate me. It was the only way. If Ronan believed I had betrayed her, he would leave us alone. It was the only chance I had to save her. But to do that, I had to become the villain.


    Every part of me screamed in protest. Every fiber of my being screamed that this wasn’t who I was—that this wasn’t me. But I had no choice. If I didn’t do this, she would die. And so, I did the unthinkable.


    I punched her.


    Her head snapped back, and I saw the shock in her eyes, the disbelief. My heart shattered with every second that passed, but I couldn’t stop. I had to make her believe that I was her enemy.


    She fought back, of course. Celia, always strong, always so full of life, struggled against me. Her hands, trembling but determined, reached for that E-ranked adventurer, the only one who could’ve helped. I saw the hope in her eyes that someone might come to her aid, someone who could stop me. But it wasn’t enough. Her resistance only made this harder. Her pain, her confusion—it tore me apart.


    I’m sorry, Celia. I’m so sorry...


    “Why?” Her voice was weak, broken. The words barely made it past her lips, but they felt like a blade slicing through my chest. “Why are you doing this? What happened to you?”


    I’m sorry. I’m sorry...


    I couldn''t answer her. I couldn’t explain. I couldn’t tell her the truth because if I did, if I showed even a shred of kindness, Ronan would kill us both.


    “You... you were my friend, Kiel. What happened?” Her eyes—those beautiful, trusting eyes—were filled with disbelief and pain. The pain in her eyes mirrored my own. I wanted to scream, to tell her that this wasn’t me, but I couldn’t. I had to keep going.


    I can’t. I have to make her hate me. Please... forgive me.


    “I’m not your friend, Celia,” I spat, trying to make my voice cold, to make it sound like I meant it. “You killed Toby and Mira. You killed them, and you’re going to pay for it.”


    Her eyes widened, and I saw the hurt flash across her face. “No... Kiel... No! You know I didn’t—”


    “Don’t lie to me!” I interrupted, my voice trembling despite my attempts to sound angry. “You think I don’t know the truth? I saw what you did. You killed them, you—”


    I broke off, my throat choking with the words I was forcing out. Every part of me wanted to stop. To pull her into my arms and tell her everything was going to be okay. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t afford to do that.


    I could hear her crying now, her voice barely a whisper, but it was loud enough for me to feel it. “Kiel... please... I didn’t— I swear I didn’t—”


    Stop. Stop it, Kiel! Why are you doing this? My heart cried out in pain, but my actions never wavered. I punched her again, this time harder, and her body slumped against the ground.


    Her gaze locked onto mine, but there was no recognition in her eyes anymore. Only confusion, only a deep, crushing hurt.


    “Why, Kiel? Why are you doing this?” she whispered, and I almost couldn’t bear it.


    Why? I thought, my heart breaking. Because I love you, Celia. I love you so much... but I have to protect you.


    “I don’t know you anymore,” she choked out, a single tear slipping down her cheek. “You’re not the Kiel I knew. You’re not him.”


    I could feel her breaking, feel the hope she once had for me fading. And in that moment, I realized that I was losing her. Not just physically, but emotionally. Her heart was slipping away from me, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.


    I was the villain now. And as much as I wanted to scream, to tell her everything and beg for her forgiveness, I couldn’t.


    Because if I didn’t do this, if I didn’t make her believe I hated her, Ronan would kill us both.


    I’m sorry, Celia. I’m sorry...


    And so, I did the only thing I could.


    I hurt her. I made her hate me.


    But deep down, I knew that she would never look at me the same way again.


    And I would never forgive myself for it.


    The forest was ahead, filled with Noctis Graspers—terrifying creatures that Ronan had warned about. They were too strong for lower-ranked adventurers, and while I was A-ranked and Ronan was B-ranked, neither of us wanted to take our chances. It was wiser to avoid the forest altogether. But now, I was more focused on the task at hand than the dangers surrounding us.


    I was so close. So close to saving her. The spell was almost done, the plan nearly complete. All I needed was a little more time. A little more distance. Once Ronan was out of sight, once he truly believed I was going to kill her, I could cast the sleeping spell and take Celia away from all of this pain, this madness. I could undo the damage I’d done, heal her, protect her from everything.


    But now, everything was slipping through my fingers.


    Kaiser.


    That damned E-ranked adventurer—Kaiser—had appeared out of nowhere, interrupting my spell, stepping into my path like a silent storm. His presence was overwhelming, and for a moment, I could only stand there in disbelief. How was he so strong? How had he defeated both Ronan and me? He didn’t even have magic, and yet he fought like he was a force of nature itself. It was impossible.


    It was supposed to be me and Celia. I had to make her hate me, I had to break her trust so Ronan would believe I had betrayed her. She was supposed to be safe. But now... now, I had hurt her, punched her, pushed her to the brink of despair. I made her believe that I was her enemy, all to protect her. I thought that once it was over, once Ronan was gone, I could take it all back. I could heal her.


    But instead, I had broken her.


    I saw the look in her eyes, the disgust, the fear. It tore me apart. Every punch, every lie, every second of it—it killed me inside. I could feel the weight of my actions crashing down on me with each passing moment. I had done this to her. To the person who saved me, who trusted me. I had broken her heart, and for what? For what?


    Now, standing here, watching Kaiser stand between us, I realized how much I had lost. My plan had worked—Ronan had left. But at what cost? The woman I had once cared for, the woman who had been my light, now hated me. The trust she had in me was gone, and I had no way to get it back. I had pushed her away in the name of protecting her, but instead, I had driven her into an even darker place.


    Kaiser... How was he so strong? How had he ruined everything I worked for? He wasn’t supposed to be here. I didn’t care about Ronan anymore. It was Kaiser, that damned adventurer, that ruined everything.


    I was the one who was supposed to save her. But I had failed.


    I had hurt her, I had made her believe I hated her, just so Ronan wouldn’t kill us both. And now, Kaiser had come and destroyed all of it. All my plans, all my struggles, my regrets—everything was for nothing.


    I could feel my heart breaking. I had been so close to saving her, so close to undoing the damage I had caused. But now, I had lost her for good.


    And it was all my fault.


    But now, it was too late. Back in the present, I found myself defeated—by Kaiser, no less. He had shattered everything, leaving me broken.


    Celia, the one person I had desperately wanted to protect, now looked at me as though I was nothing but a monster. That look in her eyes—once so full of warmth, of trust, of everything I had ever yearned for—had turned into a cold, jagged blade that cut deeper than any wound.


    Her gaze was a silent accusation, a silent condemnation that crushed what little was left of me. The Kiel who had loved her, the one who had been saved from the suffocating loneliness that had plagued me for years, was no longer here. The person I used to be had died the moment I made the decision to betray her. I had ruined everything.


    Her eyes, once filled with softness, now radiated nothing but disgust. Every inch of her body recoiled from me as though I was poison, and it was all my fault. I had poisoned the very bond we shared, turned it into something unrecognizable, and for what? To protect her? To save her from Ronan’s wrath?


    I couldn’t even tell myself it was for her anymore. It wasn’t. I had destroyed the one person who had ever truly cared for me. I had destroyed her trust, her love, her belief in me. The Kiel who had been saved by her kindness, the Kiel who had laughed with her, held her hand, shared moments of joy and warmth—he was gone. And in his place stood someone unrecognizable, a monster who would never deserve her.


    I stood before her, desperately hoping she could hear me, praying she would understand. But all I saw in her eyes was a coldness that made my chest pain. Her voice, once so full of warmth, now cut through me with icy venom.


    "Kiel..." she began, her voice faltering, but I couldn’t stop myself from holding onto that fragile thread of hope. I saw a glimmer in her eyes, something that made me believe, just for a moment, that maybe—just maybe—I could fix everything. But I was wrong.


    Her next words were like a slap to my soul.


    "How long are you going to keep lying? You admitted yourself that you were here to kill me."


    Her words hit me harder than anything Ronan could have ever done. I tried to explain, to beg her to understand, but the words caught in my throat.


    "I... I had my reasons for saying that," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I wanted to save you. Please, Celia, just tell Kaiser to stop... We can talk this out—"


    But before I could finish, she cut me off. Her voice was like ice, colder than anything I’d ever heard from her.


    "No. I do not want to speak to someone like you ever again."


    I froze, the finality of her words sinking in like a blade through my heart.


    "Stella... please, just listen to me—"


    "Don’t call me that," she snapped. The fury in her voice hit me harder than I could ever have imagined.


    "My name is not Stella. I hate every moment you say it. You used to call me that because you cared about me. But now I know it was all a lie. Every single word."


    The words burned through me like fire. I wanted to apologize, to explain, to tell her everything. But nothing would make this right anymore.


    "No... Stella... I still care for you," I whispered, my voice barely a sound.


    Her eyes, filled with disgust, met mine. And what I saw there broke me more than anything else. She was so far away from me now, a person I could never reach.


    "Listen here, you human garbage," she growled, her words coming out like poison. "I told you once before, my name is not Stella. It’s Celia. And it was given to me by my friend—a friend who isn’t a degenerate liar like you."


    Her words crushed me. Everything I had done, everything I had tried to do... it had all been for nothing. She hated me now. The Kiel who had loved her—who had been saved from loneliness by her kindness—was gone. I had ruined everything.


    And in that moment, I realized the bitter truth: I would never be the person she once cared for. The Kiel who loved her was dead, and nothing I did could ever bring him back.


    The pain in her eyes was unbearable. It suffocated me. It wasn’t just the physical torment of knowing she hated me—it was the emotional wreckage. I had been the one to destroy everything beautiful between us, and I could never undo it. No matter what I did now, no matter how much I cried or begged for forgiveness, she would never look at me the same way again.


    And that… that thought broke me more than anything else. I had loved her, and now I had killed that love with my own hands.


    Kaiser’s sword was aimed at my neck, positioned to end my life. But then, as if fate had one final chance for me, a fire arrow shot through the air, striking Kaiser and knocking him away. The explosion that followed was deafening. My vision blurred as I fought to regain consciousness. When I opened my eyes, I saw him—Kaiser, sprawled on the ground not far from me. And Celia...


    Her eyes were wide with terror, her expression one of devastation. She was no longer the calm, kind-hearted girl I had once known. She was scared, frightened. For herself. This time, it was no longer about me or Ronan. It was about him.


    “Did you think a measly one or two spirits could defeat me?” A cold voice echoed through the air, cutting through the tension like a blade. It wasn’t Velkaris anymore—it was Ronan. The power of the fire demon was now his. Ronan had merged with Velkaris’s essence, a terrifying fusion of strength and destruction.


    "Ronan... What did you do?" Celia’s voice trembled, laced with fear as she watched him approach.


    Ronan’s laugh was dark, malicious. "How dare you try and touch my soul, you pathetic weakling…" His gaze fixed on Kaiser, and his tone was full of disdain.


    "Be sure to savor this, Kaiser," he said, his words dripping with venom. "It’s unfortunate you won’t be able to watch your friend burn in the depths of hell."


    With that, Ronan’s power surged, flames swirling around him, engulfing everything. He was no longer just a man—a vengeful spirit fused with the might of a demon. And Celia, powerless as ever, couldn’t do a thing. She was helpless.


    And me? I… I lost.


    I had lost everything. Every plan I had made, every step I had taken, it was all meaningless now. I couldn’t even look at her anymore without feeling like I was suffocating. The person I had been, the person who loved her so deeply, was gone. All that remained was the hollow echo of my mistakes.


    For the longest time, I had hesitated, I had been scared. Scared of losing her, scared of the truth, scared of what I might become if I tried to protect her. But it didn’t matter anymore. All that fear, all that hesitation, had led me here, to this moment where I could no longer undo the damage I had done.


    I had lost her. I had lost her trust, her love. And now I stood here, watching everything fall apart around me, like a piece of glass shattering into a million pieces. My heart felt as though it had been torn from my chest and thrown into the fire.


    But then, as the fire of my resolve began to kindle, something else came to mind—something that had been buried deep inside me, hidden beneath all the pain and regret.


    The gift.


    The one I had promised her. The one I had planned for so long, the one that should have been hers long before this moment. It was meant to be something I gave to her when the time was right—when I wasn’t afraid to show her who I truly was. But I had been too scared, too unsure of myself. Too afraid of losing her to even give it to her.


    But now, in the silence of the storm, amidst the fury of everything I had destroyed, I realized it wasn’t just a gift—it was my apology.


    It was the one thing I could give her that might show her, even if only for a fleeting moment, that I had cared. That I had always cared. That I would have done anything for her, and maybe, just maybe, I still would.


    But it was too late, wasn’t it?


    She hated me. She would never want the gift now, not after everything I had done, after every lie I had told.


    Yet, even if I had nothing left, even if it was too late for redemption, I couldn’t let that gift go. It was the last part of me I had left—my true, unspoken feelings for her.


    I hadn’t fought for her in the past. I had been a coward. But now, as I faced the very embodiment of fire and death, as I stood here with nothing but the shreds of who I had been, I would fight.


    It wasn’t much—just a faint, flickering spark—but it was enough. I had been too late to protect her. I had been too weak, too afraid to act when it mattered. Too afraid to fight.


    But not anymore.


    No. Not now.


    I looked at her, even though it felt like I was burning from the inside out. She was so far from me now, so angry, so hurt, and I knew I had no right to ask for her forgiveness. But I couldn’t run anymore. I couldn’t be that scared, weak person who had been too late to protect her.


    I had to fight for her.


    Even if I was facing the king of flames. Even if every part of me felt like it was crumbling, breaking down with every passing second. Even if I had no magic left to fight with, no power to call upon.


    I wasn’t going to run. I wasn’t going to hesitate.


    I would stand, even if it meant my destruction. I would fight. For Celia.


    It didn’t matter if she hated me. It didn’t matter if I had no hope of ever earning her forgiveness. She had given me everything, and I had thrown it all away. But I would fight for her. Not for myself, not for redemption, but for her. Because she deserved a chance to live, to be free, and I was the only one left who could do something about it.


    I would fight.


    Even if I had nothing left.