Gaius finally allowed himself to rest. His body sagged against the blood-soaked ground, and with a faint, weary smile, he tried to speak.


    "The other battle—"


    Octavian didn’t let him finish.


    "Flavia and Marcus went there."


    He paused, his expression shifting—just for a brief moment—before continuing.


    "I’ll take care of the enemy first, then I’ll heal you. After that, I’ll finish off the second beast."


    Gaius exhaled, his vision swimming. Luck.


    For once, he really felt like a lucky man.


    If Octavian had arrived just two seconds later—


    He would have been dead.


    Nero was on his knees, his fists slamming into the ground over and over. His eyes burned red with rage, his breath ragged.


    "That son of a bitch—!"


    He barely noticed Delilah until she grabbed him, yanking him up with force. Before he could react, she was already running—dragging him back toward the shelter.


    Nero blinked, confused, his body still shaking with anger.


    Then he saw her face.


    She wasn’t looking at him.


    Her eyes were locked westward.


    And the moment he looked too—


    He understood.


    He finally understood.


    The reason why the wolf had been holding back.


    Nero’s lips curled into a grin as he turned his gaze toward the woods.


    Another one.


    Another massive blur of muscle and fur had just emerged, sprinting straight for Gaius and Octavian.


    And the best part?


    They didn’t even seem to notice.


    It was only when it was a mile away that Gaius noticed him. But it was too late—a hit landed on Octavian, nearly cutting him in half. If not for his insane reflexes, he would have been dead.


    He barely managed to block with his sword, but the impact sent him flying, leaving him injured.


    Gaius was left facing the new wolf alone, completely drained of mana.


    "Fuck!"


    After all these years, that’s how he died—against a beast he hadn’t even had the chance to fight.


    Octavian launched himself back toward the battle, moving as fast as his body would allow, desperate to reach his father in time.


    But he was still a few steps too far.


    Before he could close the distance, the shadows beneath Gaius shifted.


    Then—they exploded upward.


    Crashing into him—into a bloody mess of flesh and bone.


    Delilah and Nero had already made it back to the shelter—just in time.


    Because if they’d still been outside when the attack landed on Octavian, they wouldn’t have even needed to be hit.


    The shockwave alone would have killed them.


    Even inside the shelter, the walls shook violently, the force rattling through their bones. Without Viser’s mana constantly regenerating it, the shelter was barely holding together.


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    And yet—


    Nero lay on the ground, laughing.


    His shoulders shook as he let out ragged chuckles, stealing a few glances outside before quickly ducking back into cover.


    “Hhh…” he wheezed, still grinning.


    “Not lucky enough after all.”


    The first wolf had been holding back for a reason.


    If it had killed those eight men too quickly or pushed south to join the battle, Gaius would have run.


    And if Gaius had run—no one would have stopped the panther.


    But the wolf wasn’t alone.


    It had a partner.


    A second wolf, waiting just beyond the battlefield, ready to strike once one of them fell—or once both were weakened enough.


    But then—Octavian arrived.


    And the plan changed.


    If the second wolf had waited any longer, Octavian would have stolen the panther’s eny for himself.


    So it took its chance.


    It lunged—not just to eliminate the weaker one, but to steal both its prey.


    Unfortunately, it succeeded in the first… but not the second.


    Just as the second wolf was close to grabbing Gaius''s body, a thunderous explosion ripped through the battlefield.


    Octavian was back.


    And he was faster than expected.


    A massive shockwave shattered the ground, followed by a barrage of lightning attacks, striking everything in front of him.


    The new wolf had no choice but to defend—but even that wasn’t enough.


    As Octavian’s attack landed, the beast was forced back, its claws scraping against the dirt as it struggled to hold its ground.


    Octavian didn’t waste a second.


    He pushed forward, his breath heavy, his hands shaking—but his steps never faltered.


    Then, he reached down, fingers stretching toward Gaius.


    And he grabbed it.


    His father’s eny.


    The empire had just lost one of its Sovereigns, and Octavian had to ensure that another one would replace him. That was only possible with a level 5 rune in hand.


    For a moment, relief almost set in.


    But then—


    Movement.


    The wolf.


    It was already sprinting toward the panther’s body.


    Octavian’s mind raced.


    He couldn’t let the wolf have it.


    But he couldn’t take it for himself, either.


    And worse—he couldn’t fight it here.


    Not so close to the dead panther’s body.


    The beast wielded shadows, and if it got too close, it wouldn’t just fight for the prize—it would steal it.


    This wasn’t the place for a battle over the corpse.


    So he made a decision.


    He attacked.


    Lightning crackled around him as he lunged, driving the wolf back—dragging it as far away as possible.


    The monster snarled in frustration, its teeth bared, its muscles tense.


    But neither of them moved closer to the body.


    Because they both knew—


    If either of them made a move toward it, the other would strike.


    And just like that—


    The fight started going south again.


    Farther north, the first wolf was finally fighting seriously.


    But despite its increased aggression, the battle still followed its old rhythm.


    Normally, nine Sages wouldn’t be enough to hold back a Sovereign.


    But one of them—a man with gray hair—was different.


    He alone was as strong as three Sages.


    Not just that—he was also healing them.


    There had been a healer among the original eight, but not like this one. He was just better.


    His strikes also managed to actually injure it.


    Not by much, but with eight more Sages targeting the same weak points, it was enough to make the beast wary.


    With Flavia and Marcus here, the nobles were finally able to hold the wolf back correctly.


    But Marcus was burning through his mana fast.


    Healing eight people while fighting at the same time wasn’t easy, and he could already feel the strain setting in.


    His gaze scanned the battlefield—only to land on one of them.


    “Come on, Victry. You call that healing?” Marcus sneered. “I was gone for two hours, and you’ve already left one of them to die.”


    The tension between them was palpable.


    These two had hated each other for a long time.


    After all, Victry had backed Octavian for the throne—after promising Marcus the opposite.


    Only to betray him later.


    “Sorry, Your Highness,” Victry replied mockingly. “I can’t be as good as a prince. After all, I don’t have a Sovereign as my father.”


    He pressed on the word prince, just to make Marcus even angrier.


    Marcus smirked.


    “Yeah, but not as hard as pushing your own daughter to seduce someone… only for him to throw her away.”


    Victry’s veins bulged.


    So did Flavia’s.


    But neither of them responded.


    Because, no matter how much they hated each other—


    They were still in the middle of a fight.


    In the shelter that was barely holding together, dust drifted slowly from the ceiling with each tremor.


    The vibrations were fading, growing more distant.


    Nemsus had just woken up.


    His body felt heavy, his neck burning from where Delilah had struck him.


    He blinked, his gaze fixed on the cracked ceiling, his mind still sluggish.


    Then, he turned his head toward the light.


    There—


    The only hole in the shelter.


    The one Viser had left through.


    The one he never came back from.


    Nero was talking to Delilah.


    Meanwhile, luniaa was listening.


    Her eyes were still red and swollen, but the tears had finally stopped.


    Not because she was fine—


    But because she had no more left to cry.


    "Do you think we should run?" Nero asked, his voice quieter than usual.


    Delilah nodded. “Where?”


    Nero was silent for a few seconds before exhaling sharply. "We can''t just wait here, can we?"


    Before Delilah could respond, they both noticed Nemsus.


    He was awake now, staring at them.


    Their faces shifted—just for a second—into something close to pity.


    They tried to hide it.


    But he saw it.


    His throat tightened. “…He died, didn’t he?”


    Their silence was answer enough.


    Nemsus pushed himself up from the ground, his limbs shaky but determined. His eyes locked onto Nero. "How?"


    Nero hesitated, then sighed. "He sacrificed himself to kill Gaius… and he succeeded."


    Nemsus clenched his teeth, his fists trembling at his sides. His breath was uneven, his shoulders shaking—he was fighting it, holding it in.


    "A body… did they leave anything to bury him?"


    Nero’s gaze dropped.


    "He vanished completely."


    Nero placed a hand on Nemsus''s shoulder, his grip firm but unsure.


    "I''m sorry."