A cruel smile stretched across Gaius''s face as he hurled the blazing spear with all his strength, aiming straight for the beast’s skull.


    And then—


    The most unexpected thing happened.


    Viser threw himself into the fire’s path.


    Viser stared at Gaius with the same wide-eyed fascination that children have when watching a monkey in a cage—just amused,, as if the old Emperor were nothing more than an oddity for his entertainment.


    Gaius, in stark contrast, went deathly pale. It was as if every last drop of blood had drained from his face.


    The children watching from a distance were frozen in total shock.


    And then, the flaming spear struck Viser head-on.


    For a fleeting moment, as the inferno consumed him, Viser had a single thought—


    "Looks like the gates of hell will go to hell.


    His body began to dissolve in the blaze, yet his expression never wavered. There was no fear, no regret. Only the face of a man who had done exactly what he set out to do.


    With a final glance at the old Emperor, he smiled and said—


    "Fuck you, Gaius."


    Then, he turned to dust.


    A scream tore through the battlefield.


    Nemsus and Nero''s voices rang out in anguish, raw and unrestrained. Delilah''s face was empty—completely blank, as if her mind refused to process what had just happened. Hilda stood frozen, unable to speak, unable to even breathe.


    And then—


    The spell restraining Nero and Nemsus shattered, and they collapsed to the ground, their limbs trembling as if their bodies hadn’t yet realized they were free. But it wasn’t just their bodies—their minds refused to accept it too.


    They lay there, staring blankly, caught in a moment that refused to feel real.


    Denial.


    The battlefield fell eerily silent.


    Even the floating light screens that had been displaying the fight flickered out of existence—after all, they had been running on Viser’s mana.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    And Viser was gone.


    Delilah snapped out of her shock first. Her mind cleared in an instant, instincts taking over as she turned to the closest one to her, Nemsus.


    She knew what him and her brother were going to do


    So she moved fast.


    Before nemsus could take a single step toward the battlefield, she struck his neck. He crumpled instantly, unconscious on the ground.


    Then she turned to Nero.


    She reached for him, but he was already moving.


    "Nero, calm down!" she called, her voice firm but urgent as she chased after him.


    Nero didn’t hear her. Or maybe he did and just didn’t care. His body moved on its own, driven by something deeper than reason. He leaped out of the shelter, his breath ragged, his fists trembling at his sides.


    And then he saw him.


    Gaius.


    Standing there. Alive.


    Hatred burned through Nero’s chest, so intense it made his entire body shake. Every instinct screamed at him to move—to attack, to make him pay.


    But he didn’t.


    He couldn''t.


    His legs felt like they were trapped in iron chains. It wasn’t fear. No, it was worse than that. It was the bitter, gut-wrenching realization of how powerless he was.


    One wrong move, and they were all dead.


    A sharp crack echoed in the air.


    Delilah’s slap snapped his head to the side.


    For a second, neither of them moved. They just stood there, staring at each other. Their faces were empty, their bodies frozen, but their eyes—their eyes screamed with evrything.


    Nero swallowed hard. His fists loosened. His breathing slowed.


    Then, without another word, he turned away.


    "I want to see how this ends," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.


    Together, just a few meters beyond the shelter, they stood in silence, their breath shallow, their bodies tense. Their eyes remained locked ahead, unblinking, as the dust slowly began to settle.


    They saw his face


    For the first time in decades, the mighty gate of hell felt something he had almost forgotten.


    Fear.


    Because now, charging straight toward him, was the wounded panther—its body coiled like a spring, its tail lashing, raw hatred burning in its eyes. The last remnants of its mana surged through its veins, fueling its final act of vengeance.


    And this time, hé had to face him without his powers.


    Gaius did the only thing his instincts allowed.


    He ran.


    But the beast was faster.


    With a sickening crunch, the panther’s tail whipped through the air, slicing into Gaius’s left leg like a blade through butter.


    The limb was gone before he even felt it.


    He collapsed, a ragged, broken scream tearing from his throat as agony consumed him. Blood poured beneath him, pooling in the dirt, soaking his robes. He tried to move, to crawl, to do anything—but his body refused.


    His mana was gone.


    His arm was missing.


    Now, his leg was gone too.


    And the beast was still coming.


    Gaius lay there, gasping, his vision blurring as he watched death march toward him, slow and deliberate.


    There was no escape.


    No power left to save him.


    No tricks.


    No hope.


    He was out of time, out of options.


    The panther reared back, muscles coiling for the final strike—


    And then, a sound.


    A vibration, deep in his skull.


    A message.


    Gaius smiled.


    A weak, breathless chuckle escaped him. Then another. And another.


    Until it twisted into full, unhinged laughter.


    "Too late..." He wheezed between breaths, his voice rasping, his lips pulling into a bloody grin. "Hhh… Too late."


    A chill crawled up the kids’ spines.


    Watching from a distance, Nero felt his stomach drop. His grip tightened on the rubble beside him.


    "Why the hell is he laughing?" he muttered.


    Then, they saw him.


    A lone figure hovered in the sky, looking down at the broken Emperor—not with anger, nor with pity, but with a strange mix of concern and relief.


    And with a simple wave of his hand, the panther’s body crumpled.


    An invisible force crushed it from all sides, folding it in on itself a thousand times over. The beast thrashed, tried to rise—but this time, unlike before, it had nothing left.


    Slowly, the man descended.


    Each step was calm. Deliberate.


    He approached the dying creature, raising his hand as a familiar weapon took shape—


    A spear wreathed in crimson flames.


    An exact replica of the one Gaius had wielded.


    The beast, driven by sheer instinct, lunged one last time.


    The man sidestepped effortlessly.


    And then—


    Before the spear even struck, before the final blow was dealt—


    The flames on the panther’s body flickered… and died.


    A moment later, so did its eyes.


    The monster collapsed.


    After all its desperate attempts to cling to life—after all the pain, the rage, the struggle—


    It simply wasn’t enough.


    Even in that ruined state, the man still walked toward the lifeless body.


    Without hesitation, he raised the spear—and with one swift motion, he drove it straight through the panther’s skull.


    Only then did he allow himself to believe it was truly dead.


    Silence.


    The battlefield, once filled with screams and chaos, had gone completely still.


    Then, slowly, the man turned his gaze toward the Emperor.


    Gaius, gasping for breath, looked up—his blurred vision settling on the figure before him.


    A tall man.


    Short, graying hair.


    A face he knew all too well.


    And then, the man spoke.


    "Hello, Father."