The body creaks, the soul cries. The clash of swords rang out with tremendous force, sending powerful shockwaves into the falling raindrops, warping them midair before they shattered against the castle’s dark tiles.

Each impact produced a deep vibration that traveled through the broken structures, as if the entire kingdom trembled to the rhythm of that battle.

The decaying Mitsuki, who felt like he could lose consciousness at any moment, lunged forward with his sword and shotgun. His movements were heavy, but they still carried lethal intent.

Marco followed with almost elegant speed, in a sequence of mimicked movements that, together with the Ashen Boy, became a partially perfect battle choreography, where every step, every turn, and every strike fit together like gears in a machine on the verge of breaking.

Now, fighting alongside them with his bow as if it were a blade, Azel pressed Cinderella from the right. His steps were light, almost silent, barely noticeable beneath the relentless drumming of the rain.

Together with Marco and Mitsuki, covering three different angles of the fight, they forced her to retreat across the rooftop, making her readjust her stance again and again.

They leapt across the tiles—some shattered beneath their weight, others slipped free and fell into the abyss—seeking new openings with their figures blurred between the rain and the storm-dark clouds.

Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the scene in brief intervals, revealing blurred silhouettes that clashed and vanished like warring specters.

Water splashed whenever the trio’s feet briefly touched the roof, scattering droplets that mixed with blood and ash, but the fight moved even faster than that.

There was no pause, no breath—only a constant succession of attacks and defenses in an increasingly frantic rhythm.

Mitsuki struck from the right with Viktor. His blade collided and rebounded against the crystal sword, releasing a shower of sparks that died the moment they touched the rain. At the same time, Marco struck from the left, but the result was the same: a perfect, firm, unbreakable block.

In that brief instant, when the rebound pushed him back and he fell toward the ground, Mitsuki aimed his shotgun and fired point-blank.

A powerful blast erupted from both barrels, striking the princess square in the face, forcing her to shield herself with her crystal swords to avoid damage. The heat evaporated the rain in a nearby radius, creating a cloud of steam that distorted vision for a moment.

The system displayed several messages to Mitsuki.

[ The skill "Martial Arts" has leveled up. ]

[ The skill "Weapon Mastery" has leveled up. ]

[ Other skills have leveled up. ]

[ Warning: The damage caused by the skill "Limit Break" is reaching a critical point. Disable the skill before it’s too late. ]

Mitsuki ignored the notification with an expressionless face.

After rolling across the ground following the shot, feeling the wet tiles scrape against his clothes and skin, he propelled himself forward again with ash to gain even the slightest bit of speed, and didn’t hesitate to swing his sword at the princess as she defended.

Azel and Marco followed, coordinating their attacks. When Mitsuki sliced part of Cinderella’s arm, releasing fragments of hardened ash, Marco raised his blade in an upward strike toward the specter’s neck.

The archer leapt onto the blade and struck the princess’s head with his bow, twisting her neck grotesquely to the side, accompanied by a dry crack barely audible beneath the roar of the storm.

She was slow to defend. The color of the flame burning within the cracks of her body—gloomy, broken, sinister, yet heartbreakingly beautiful beneath the rain and lightning—intensified. Steam flowed across her ash-like skin, drying instantly beneath her dented armor, creating an unsettling contrast between heat and moisture.

Attacking without equal, Mitsuki continued repeating the same movement pattern, as it was proving effective against Cinderella, weakened by the rain.

She was still fast and strong, but not as strong as before. In fact, the princess hesitated every time Mitsuki entered her field of vision. It was as if her mind sought answers, while her body sought only the annihilation of anything that moved before her eyes.

Right... The shotgun roared, expelling fire that briefly illuminated the tense faces of all.

Left... The swords clashed, vibrating until the arms holding them went numb.

Behind... A deep slash across her ash-like skin, releasing fragments that dissolved upon touching the water.

Front... Three adventurers fighting for survival, breathing heavily, muscles pushed to their limit.

Cinderella became overwhelmed. With a strained groan, she raised her sword and generated hundreds of crystal flowers that covered the entire rooftop. They sprouted with a sharp sound, like glass breaking from within the earth.

Then, when the adventurers leapt to avoid the imminent danger, the flowers’ spikes grew like stalactites seeking to impale them, extending at an alarming speed.

Mitsuki propelled himself through the air to shove Marco aside, feeling his body partially crumble into ash from the effort—but Azel wasn’t as fortunate. Fortunately, the archer knew what he was doing, quickly raising his bow to shield himself from one of the spikes.

The crystal’s growth pushed him upward into the sky, and the princess saw an opportunity. She raised two of her swords and ran across the crystal-covered roof, her steps light over impossible surfaces, rushing toward him—but at the same time, Marco and Mitsuki followed.

They exchanged a brief clash of blades, a crossing so fast it was barely visible, but it was clear the princess no longer wished to continue this farce; she was tired of dealing with these "false heroes" who had supposedly come to kill her, yet were nothing more than a group of stubborn humans who didn’t know when to give up.

The swords collided with a strange mix of wet metallic echoes. The princess poured all her strength into the clash, sending Marco and Mitsuki crashing into the ruins, breaking stone and wood in their path, and throwing them back into the arena with a single blow. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

Azel, who saw this after landing atop one of the towers, ran toward his companions, because being alone meant death. His feet slipped slightly, but he didn’t stop.

Monar heard them crash against the crystals. He frowned in concentration, and the crimson glimmers surrounding him intensified, pulsing like an external heart beating for all of them.

While the others fought, Monar hadn’t wasted time sitting idly on the magic circle. The prana surrounding his body made it clear he had been preparing that final push his friends needed.

The roots around him twisted slowly, absorbing and channeling energy.

Mitsuki emerged from the rubble, staggered, and fell to his knees, coughing ash and blood, but Marco approached and helped him stand, holding him firmly.

"Can you keep going?" he asked.

Mitsuki didn’t respond for a few seconds. His golden eyes were lifeless, as if he couldn’t hear anything being said to him. His expression looked lost and exhausted, making Marco grit his teeth.

"Damn it... This isn’t right. It’s not fair."

Even so, there was no time to dwell on it.

Azel joined them, landing at their side, and looked toward the castle ruins.

Up there, Cinderella raised her sword high. She struck the air with it, splitting the rain in two, and launched herself toward them like a projectile wrapped in fire and ash.

Contrary to what anyone would expect, the bewildered Mitsuki stepped forward, gripping his shotgun and sword tightly. The firearm’s barrel roared with blue arcane flames, and his sword shone with fleeting crimson fire that crackled beneath the rain.

Marco... showed an expression of anguish.

No one understood this boy, and perhaps no one ever would.

Despite his body being destroyed, barely held together by damp ash, he advanced without stopping. His steps were heavy, soaked among the shattered crystal flowers. Each footstep left a dark mark the rain tried to erase.

His torn coat, his long hair with purple tips, his porcelain face with delicate, almost feminine features, were stained with pure filth—the filth that ash had brought upon this land.

Monar sighed, tired and somewhat saddened. Through his body, the Lord of Green spoke:

"The life of that human boy is curious. He is like a perpetual motion machine, designed to keep moving endlessly even when death has filled the world."

The demon laughed.

"In the old days, he would have been a great warrior—easy to corrupt and tempt."

Monar returned to himself, but could only shake his head.

"No... You don’t understand the human heart."

But it seemed Monar didn’t fully understand it either, because when the princess appeared before him and their swords clashed, all present could feel nothing but the omen of an imminent death—

a bitter and hard-fought victory.