Excessive blood loss left Shinya’s vision darkened, and he could no longer muster the strength to drive back the ghouls. Meanwhile, his blood only made the ghouls more frenzied.

He kicked one ghoul off the cliff, unaware of its fall.

White mist dispersed and reformed, and the roar of the giant bear momentarily drowned out the deafening thunder of the waterfall.

The ghouls, seemingly fearless, closed in, clawing and snarling as they surrounded him.

Overwhelmed by fury, Shinya, in his beast form, appeared to have lost all semblance of rationality.

He could neither see nor hear clearly, and thoughts of survival had long been abandoned.

All that remained was the instinct to fight—relentlessly, until his life was completely drained.

He didn’t realize that something seemed to be on the verge of breaking apart, deep within his violently beating heart.

The giant bear was soaked in blood, its fur dyed a deep crimson. The spear still jutted from his hind leg, but at some point, the blood seeping from the wound had turned black.

The ghouls that came into contact with the black blood reacted as if they had touched something horrifying. They hesitated, their aggression giving way to fear, and began to retreat instinctively.

Shinya, however, paid no attention to these subtle changes. He tore one ghoul apart, swatted another away, yet the battle seemed endless.

Even now, fifteen years later, he was still not strong enough to overcome these vile and corrupt creatures.

He had believed he was no longer the fragile boy of the past.

Perhaps… he had overestimated himself.

Just as Shinya was about to lose consciousness from excessive blood loss, a beam of golden light illuminated his vision.

The light extended along the ground, forming a massive cross directly in front of him. Radiant brilliance burst forth from the ground, rendering the ghouls caught in its glow immobile.

They let out agonized wails as their decayed bodies began to slowly disintegrate under the holy light.

As the radiance dimmed, the ghouls abandoned Shinya, instead rushing toward the source of the light.

At the end of the glowing path stood a man, calm and unhurried, as he faced the oncoming horde of ghouls.

He raised his left hand, appearing to channel yet another spell.

Just as the ghouls closed in, a surge of powerful holy energy erupted around the man.

In an instant, the golden wave obliterated the ghouls, grinding them into dust that dissipated into the air.

As the radiance dimmed once more, Shinya finally got a clear look at the man.

He was dressed in a white priest’s robe, his short golden hair slightly disheveled. His stature, not particularly tall in Shinya’s eyes, exuded an unassuming presence.

The man’s face was pale, etched with exhaustion and pain. His robe was torn and stained with red, evidence of a grueling battle he had endured.

Shinya recognized him.

He was Rivern Rybirths, the priest of Echowater Town’s chapel, and one of the people Shinya found most disagreeable. The origin of this disdain was a mystery, even to Shinya himself.

At first, he had dismissed it as jealousy—because Rivern was close to Nicole.

But now, a far more unsettling possibility occurred to him: could he have met this man before reuniting with Nicole?

The memories of his humanity were blurred, yet the instincts of his beast remembered.

Now, Shinya detected a familiar scent emanating from Rivern—one that hadn’t been there when they first met in the chapel.

The priest didn’t pause to greet the severely injured werewolf. Instead, he quickly cast a cleansing spell to neutralize the poison in Shinya’s body.

A pristine white halo descended, dispelling the venom coursing through his veins. Unnoticed by anyone, the strange black blood vanished along with the poison.

With the toxins gone, Shinya’s natural regenerative abilities began to take effect.

Rivern followed up with a healing light spell, accelerating Shinya’s recovery.

Before long, the heavily wounded bear was able to stand again. He turned around, gripping the spear lodged in his hind leg with his teeth and pulling it out. The terrifying wound closed almost instantly under the combined effects of the two healing magics.

"How did you find this place?" the giant bear asked, his deep voice carrying a sharp edge.

Shinya wanted to confirm the question lingering in his mind. If Rivern wasn’t directly involved in the Acorn Town incident fifteen years ago, how could he possibly locate a town that had disappeared from all maps?

Rivern, however, showed no surprise at the sight of a talking beast, nor any intention of answering the question. Sweat trickled down his temple, and the searing pain seemed to drain the light from his eyes.

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"Go… save her," the priest said weakly, his gaze falling to the ground. "Please."

Without needing further instruction, Shinya began moving toward the cliff’s edge.

He cast one last glance at the priest before breaking into a run, shifting mid-stride into the form of a horned owl.

Rivern watched the horned owl soar into the distance until it disappeared from view. Only then did he collapse to his knees, drained of all strength.

"You’re not planning to help them, are you?" Rivern asked, his head bowed in exhaustion.

"Why should I help them?" came the response, as a radiant white light bloomed behind Rivern.

A noble and beautiful figure floated gracefully above and behind him.

Pristine white wings unfurled from the back of the winged celestial as he descended silently, landing just behind Rivern.

The stains of battle were gone from the celestial’s body, and he once again radiated an aura of holiness and majesty.

But the words that fell from his lips were far from worthy of that sacred glow.

"Their lives or deaths have nothing to do with me. My only target is you," the Winged Celestial declared, proud and detached, placing a hand on Rivern’s head as if preparing to cast some kind of spell.

Rivern let out a cold laugh but said nothing.

The celestial paid no mind to his reaction and continued arrogantly, "Only humans use notions of good and evil as weapons to judge others. I don’t care about morality—I only acknowledge strength and weakness."

"Oh, is that so," Rivern replied, the mocking smile on his lips growing even more pronounced. He lowered his head deeply, choosing not to say anything further.

The celestial began focusing on channeling his magic. His fingers moved from Rivern’s head to his back, leaving a glowing trail wherever they passed.

The golden light was sharp as needles and piercing as thorns, driving deeply into Rivern’s back. He propped himself up on his hands, sweat dripping from his jaw into the dirt below. The searing pain forced his fingers to dig unconsciously into the soil, yet all he could do was endure.

This is my choice, he silently reminded himself.

At last, the celestial completed the final note of his spell. The glowing light converged into countless luminous threads, weaving seamlessly through Rivern’s back as though stitching something together.

The celestial examined his handiwork, ensuring the spell’s effect was flawless before finally speaking. "I must now return to the Realm of Light to report the details of this operation to my superiors."

But Rivern could no longer hear him. The hands that had been holding him up finally gave out, and he collapsed face-first onto the ground.

The Winged Celestial paid no attention to Rivern’s unconscious state. His voice continued as if completing an unfinished formality.

"Another celestial will be assigned to monitor you. Make the most of it."

With that, he spread his wings and ascended into the sky.

From high above, the celestial glanced down at Rivern’s motionless body, his mind preoccupied with how to report the mission.

How could he possibly admit to being sealed by a mere human? Such a disgrace!

And what excuse could he make for being overwhelmed by a "half-demon" in battle?

If it weren’t for this "half-demon" willingly submitting to the control spell at the end, the celestial doubted he would even have the dignity to return to the Realm of Light to report at all.

He irritably ran a hand through his hair, deciding not to glance again at the source of his frustrations. Tilting his head back, he focused his attention upward and ascended toward the higher reaches of the sky.

Just then, a pitch-black arrow silently pierced through his pristine white wing.

Scarlet blood stained the pure white feathers. Furious, the celestial spun around, immediately drawing his longsword and activating a defensive barrier.

A dim golden light enveloped him, forming a flawless hexagonal shield.

"Who’s there?" the celestial demanded sharply. "Show yourself!"

The arrow couldn’t have been fired from the ground—no human arrow could possibly reach beyond the clouds.

That left only one possibility...

The celestial squinted, narrowing his eyes as he spotted a figure hovering on the other side of the clouds—a figure clad entirely in black: jet-black bat-like wings, a dark outfit, and long ebony hair.

The figure raised a dull, shadowy longbow, firing another arrow toward the celestial in an unmistakable act of provocation.

This time, the celestial successfully blocked the attack. The hexagonal shield deflected the arrow, but deep, visible cracks spread across its surface. It was clear the barrier wouldn’t withstand another strike.

Furious, the celestial raised his longsword and charged toward the figure.

The figure made no attempt to evade. Instead, he calmly stowed his longbow and extended his hand.

An enormous, dark purple greatsword materialized before him, answering his call.

He gripped the hilt of the greatsword effortlessly, deflecting the celestial’s initial attack with ease.

The golden sword strikes shattered against his blade, leaving the celestial acutely aware that he had once again underestimated his opponent’s strength.

Had his impulsive assault been a mistake?

As doubt crept into his mind, the distance between them closed further.

Only then did the celestial get a clear view of his adversary’s face and presence.

It was a male demon, his face cold and unyielding like ice. Tall and powerfully built, he exuded an aura of pure malice, as though he were the very embodiment of the abyss and the source of chaos itself.

As the celestial drew closer, the demon’s lips curled into a mocking smile, as if he were watching prey willingly walk into his trap.

His jet-black hair was tied back, its loose ends dancing wildly in the turbulent wind, radiating an air of untamed arrogance.

The celestial suddenly stopped, realization dawning on him.

The demon’s appearance and weapon stirred a distant memory—one he couldn’t yet fully grasp but was enough to send unease coursing through him.

Could his luck truly be this bad?

Seeing his prey hesitate, the demon decided to make his move.

With a sweep of his massive black greatsword, a thick haze of dark mist surged toward the celestial, shattering his defenses in an instant.

The celestial had no time to summon a second barrier and was forced to meet the assault head-on, relying purely on brute strength to block the demon’s strike.

The two blades collided with a deafening crash, sending sparks flying in all directions.

It was only then that the celestial got a clearer look at the greatsword. It wasn’t entirely black—its blade was etched with dark purple runes that seemed to come alive. Each time the demon exerted force, the runes glowed with an eerie violet light, mirroring the cold, deep purple of the demon’s piercing eyes.

Finally, the celestial remembered the name of the sword. "Nightglow...?"

The demon let out a cold chuckle. "You recognize my sword? Looks like the Realm of Light teaches its history lessons well."

Panic overtook the celestial. He now understood who stood before him—one of the Primordial Demons, a being who had fought alongside the Lord of Darkness, Kloisoth, and led an army against the Realm of Light seven centuries ago.

And now, the name from the textbooks had come to life before his very eyes.

How could he, alone, possibly stand against a demon of such stature—a Primordial?

The fear in the celestial’s eyes only deepened the demon’s twisted grin.

In those deep purple eyes, there was not a shred of mercy.

With a single swing of the greatsword, the celestial’s once-noble and radiant figure was cleaved cleanly in two.

A shadowy gale swept up the celestial’s shattered body, devouring the final glimmer of light that escaped at the moment of his death.

"What a pity. If you hadn’t been in such a hurry to rush back and tattle, perhaps I would have let you live a few days longer."

The demon sheathed his greatsword and cast his gaze downward.

By the cliffside, Rivern remained unconscious. Over the rushing torrent below, a horned owl was frantically searching for something.

The demon narrowed his eyes, his focus lingering on the owl for an unusually long moment. His expression betrayed a mix of fascination and eager anticipation.

"Enjoying my little welcoming gift? Don’t worry, we’ll have our chance to meet, Akane Shinya. But first, I have a new companion to chat with."

With that, he descended toward Rivern.