Richard and Satanael’s Final Battle

Richard and Satanail stood in a tense standoff, but the balance in their fierce tug-of-war was about to break.

Fwoosh.

Dozens, no—now hundreds of fiery strands shot toward Satanail like guided missiles, striking him from every angle.

“Aaaargh!”

Having grotesquely transformed his body to counter Richard, Satanail’s large frame was now a prime target for Zenia’s attacks. Though he could typically shrug off most magic, the awakened Zenia’s flames were something even he could not repel.

The massive form of Satanail began to burn, and Richard, who had been on the defensive, seized the moment to launch a counterattack.

“Useless lackeys! You can’t even hold back these insects!” Satanail roared in frustration.

The subordinates he’d brought along to buy him time were nowhere to be seen, and the allied forces were beginning to launch supporting attacks. Even Satanail, with all his power, was finding it difficult to withstand this onslaught.

Where did it all go wrong?

The Crimson Warden had always been a nuisance, but he’d never expected the holy knights of the Goddess Order to join forces with them, especially given the enmity between the two groups. The arrival of elite mages from the Tower had only worsened the situation.

But that wasn’t all. Satanail could feel the life signals of his subordinates and lieutenants—those who had received his blood—vanishing one by one. The severed signals meant that not only were they losing here, but his forces on other fronts were being defeated as well.

Satanail could barely believe it. Had the Empire’s main forces truly gathered in this rural estate?

Yet he had no time to ponder the absurdity of it all.

Crash!

“Gah!”

Richard’s greatsword struck with pent-up force he had held back, unleashing a devastating blow.

The only consolation for Satanail was that the red-haired mage who had unleashed torrents of flame seemed to be resting, her magical onslaught paused as she caught her breath.

Now is my chance! If I attack with everything and take Richard down first, I can eliminate them one by one….

Until now, Satanail had only been overwhelmed due to the mage’s support, but he’d originally been overpowering Richard. With the flames temporarily halted, he lunged at Richard to finish him off.

“Burn, all that I am.”

In that moment, flames erupted from Richard’s greatsword with a brilliance beyond anything Satanail had seen before.

“T-That flame!”

Satanail’s eyes widened in shock.

It was the same flame as that which had once scarred him—a scar that had never healed. Richard was wielding the very fire of the man who had nearly ended him.

“For killing your own kind! For destroying the peaceful lives of those who work hard every day only to call them weak—”

“I will never forgive you.”

As his final flame ignited, Richard realized the meaning behind his master’s words: Burn everything you have.

Swordmaster.

Richard had finally ascended to the level that none had reached since Carl Oregon, the Swordmaster of the Empire.

Clang!

“It seems we’ll be able to maintain the upper hand.”

“Now I understand why the Empire sings the Third Prince’s praises.”

The allied forces held back the enemy's main army, who had initially seemed overwhelming in number. But now, thanks to Alexander’s special forces disrupting their ranks and eliminating key lieutenants, the tide had turned.

Alexander, taking a brief moment to observe Edric and Kyle, couldn’t help but commend them. He had heard of both—the famed royal swordsman and the young hero of the North—but hadn’t put much stock in the rumors, often only partially true.

Yet today, seeing their feats firsthand, he realized the tales had actually understated their prowess. Edric, especially, was displaying skills beyond anything Alexander could have reached at that age.

“If you’ll hold the line here, I’ll head back to the manor,” Alexander said.

“Wouldn’t it be better to push harder here?” Kyle asked.

“Under normal circumstances, yes. But things have gone too smoothly here,” Alexander replied with concern.

“True, their main force did seem weaker than expected,” Edric noted.

“Precisely. I suspect the forces assaulting the manor may be stronger than anticipated.”

Edric and Kyle both agreed. The allied forces now had the upper hand here, even without Alexander, so it made sense to redirect any extra forces to the manor.

With that, Alexander cut his way through the remaining enemies, making his way toward the manor.

“Aaaagh!”

Satanail, who had until now suffered wounds without so much as a cry, finally screamed.

The situation had changed dramatically. He could no longer extend his arms into dozens of tendrils like before.

Crackle.

Staring at his severed arm, Satanail felt the heat in the wound, searing as though it were scarred.

It’s not healing.

Ordinary flames could harm low-tier creatures of the night, but they had no effect on Satanail—until now. The fire on Richard’s blade delayed his regeneration, inflicting an agonizing pain.

In this situation, transforming his body for an extended reach would only expose him to more attacks. Realizing this, Satanail reverted to his original form.

I just need to buy time… if I can hold on, he’ll burn himself out.

Satanail planned to stall, believing Richard’s powers to be unsustainable for long. He would outlast Richard’s human limitations.

But then,

“You look afraid, Satanail.”

“What?!”

“Thinking of running again?”

Richard’s words pierced Satanail’s thoughts, hitting his insecurities with pinpoint precision.

“Y-You… ignorant human!”

“Afraid of a mere human’s attack? Preparing to run again?”

Richard’s taunt struck deep. Satanail had been born as an elite among elves, ultimately becoming the captain of the Wardens, the highest rank among his kind. Now, as a being of pure blood and night, he had ascended to a level of greatness.

And yet, for the second time, a human—a weak, ignorant human—had pushed him to the brink. This was an intolerable humiliation.

“I’ll kill you!”

In a rare loss of control, Satanail abandoned reason and launched a frenzied attack. Seizing the opening, Richard raised his greatsword overhead, aligning it parallel to the ground in a stance distinct from his usual style.

In a flash, he delivered a powerful vertical slash, and before Satanail could react, his body was split in two.

“Guh….”

But it wasn’t over.

Without allowing even a moment of respite, Richard followed with a horizontal slash, quartering Satanail’s body into pieces.

Fire flared up between the divided parts, and soon Satanail’s dismembered remains were engulfed in flames.

“Richard!” Sifris, who had held back to avoid interrupting their duel, now rushed to Richard’s side.

“I… did it.”

Richard fell into her embrace, exhausted.

The final strike had drained him of everything he had.

This victory wasn’t his alone, he realized. If Zenia hadn’t provided her timely support when he was on the defensive, he might not have endured. And if Satanail hadn’t been scarred by the Swordmaster before, he might not have reacted so recklessly to Richard’s provocation.

It had been a collaborative effort by everyone who had fought alongside him.

“It’s not over!” Zenia’s sudden cry snapped them out of their relief.

Everyone’s eyes turned to her as she spoke, her voice strained from the excessive use of magic and her recent rapid physical transformation.

“This can’t be!”

The pieces of Satanail’s flesh, which Richard had cut into, began to twitch and writhe.

Pop!

The chunks of flesh coalesced into grotesque doll-like forms, scattering and fleeing in all directions.

“Don’t let them escape!”

The allied forces, still vigilant, immediately pursued the fleeing remnants of Satanail.

But unbeknownst to them, one tiny piece of flesh slipped away unnoticed, crawling into Somerset Manor amid the confusion.