Leo and Dons continued their relentless battle, their high-level techniques and spells lighting up the midnight sky like a storm of raw power. The ground beneath them cracked and trembled with every clash of their blades, while the air was thick with the hum of magic. Neither showed signs of stopping, their determination unwavering.
In the nearby camps, knights and soldiers from both sides looked on in awe and fear. Many lay restless, trying to salvage a moment of peace, though their hearts were heavy with uncertainty.
"Is this truly the end?" one soldier murmured, staring at the flashes of light and bursts of power illuminating the horizon.
Another nodded grimly. "If they keep this up, there might not be a dawn for any of us."
But amidst the chaos and fear, Leo and Dons fought on, their clash a battle not just of strength but of ideologies, pushing each other to their very limits.
Leo used a flashstep, retreating a few paces back, his eyes locked onto Dons. The battle had reached a stalemate, the tension thick in the freezing midnight air.
"It's a shame we couldn't end this before dinner," Leo said, his voice calm but calculating as he assessed his next move. The cold air nipped at his skin, a sharp contrast to the heat of the battle.
Dons smirked, hovering effortlessly above the ground. "I agree. Though you know how it is here—scorching days and freezing nights. This region reflects the nature of our fight."
Without warning, Dons took to the sky, ascending rapidly before plummeting back down with his dark crimson sword aimed at Leo, the force of his descent splitting the air with a deafening roar.
Leo dropped to one knee, gripping Balha tightly. As Dons descended, Leo brought his own golden blade up to meet the attack head-on.
Clang! The swords collided with immense force, a shockwave rippling through the battlefield. Sparks flew as their weapons locked, each fighter pushing against the other, their clash reigniting the brutal dance of power and will.
"For a Hero Slayer, you're surely powerful, Dons," Leo said, flashstepping away to create distance, his tone laced with both respect and provocation.
"Oh, don't say it like that. I've never actually slain a hero," Dons replied with a smirk, swinging his crimson sword downward into the earth. Shadows erupted from the ground like sinister hands, reaching out with the intent to trap and crush.
Leo's eyes narrowed. Without hesitation, he stabbed Balha into the ground. A radiant wave of golden energy pulsed out, dissolving the shadowy appendages mid-air. The battlefield was momentarily silent, the two warriors locked in an unspoken challenge, each sizing up the other's next move.
While Leo and Dons clashed in their fierce battle, unaware of the world beyond their deadly dance, a silent tale of devotion unfolded elsewhere—a tale of a master's unfulfilled mission completed by his steadfast companion.
As the third demon lord Cleaveen soared through the skies of Naziri, his sharp eyes caught sight of a lone, battered white horse limping through the wasteland. Intrigued, he descended, his curiosity drawn to the majestic yet wounded creature.
The horse, though trembling and frail, stubbornly stood its ground, its back turned to him. Cleaveen approached with caution and soon spotted a letter, sealed with the royal insignia of the Ausha Empire, strapped securely to its saddle. His eyes widened as he carefully removed it. The date read 1.15.2009 DHW, sent before the war. It bore the name Leo Gemini, addressed to Dons.
As Cleaveen processed the weight of the letter, a soft, labored sound pulled him from his thoughts. Midnight, the loyal steed, crumbled to the ground, its strength entirely spent. Cleaveen knelt beside the creature, his hands glowing faintly as he attempted to heal it, but he knew the truth—it was too late.
The horse let out a final, gentle whinny, its eyes dimming as if to say it had fulfilled its purpose. Cleaveen lowered his head in reverence, whispering, "You carried more than your master... you carried the weight of his final wish."
With that, Midnight took its last breath, leaving behind a legacy of unwavering loyalty and sacrifice, a poignant echo of its master Edward'sunyielding spirit.
In the Baja Ausha region, the moon hung high in the midnight sky, casting its pale glow over the battlefield. Leo and Dons were still locked in their relentless battle, oblivious to the passage of time.
Leo suddenly stepped back, his golden aura, which had been surging with power, receding like a tide.
"So, Leo, are you done?" Dons asked, his voice calm yet taunting. "You humans and your mana—has it finally run out?"
Before Leo could respond, both of them heard the distant clash of swords and shouts. The soldiers and knights, thought to be resting, had resumed their skirmishes.
Leo smirked, his gaze unwavering. "No," he said, his voice steady. "I was just waiting for the right moment."
In that instant, Leo began to transform. His golden aura reignited, but it was different this time—controlled, refined. His yellow hair shimmered, turning into a radiant gold. His eyes, once blue and glowing faintly, now became solid gold, exuding an intense light. Balha, his trusted sword, dissolved into golden particles, leaving behind a shimmering mist.
Leo's armor changed too. Its golden sheen gave way to a pristine white and blue with intricate silver designs. At his waist, the mist began to solidify, reforming Balha, now encased in an elegant sheath of gold.
Dons tilted his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "You look handsome, Leo. Maybe it's time you started your own harem."
Leo chuckled. "I'm not that kind of person, Dons. Besides, you're the one who looks more suited for it. Why don't you start one first?"
Dons laughed, his voice echoing across the battlefield. "You've got jokes, I see."
Leo unsheathed his newly transformed Balha. The sword was no longer the same—it radiated a brilliant yellow light, its power palpable.
"Max Katyi," Leo uttered softly.
With a single swing, the sword unleashed a massive wave of energy. The strike was so fast and powerful that Dons didn't have time to flashstep away. The attack tore through the night sky, clearing away the dark clouds and revealing the stars above.
The force of the blow sent Dons hurtling through the air, disappearing from view. He finally stopped himself, skidding to a halt far beyond normal eyesight. His shadow armor was shredded, and blood dripped from the corners of his mouth.
"Not bad, Leo," Dons mumbled to himself, wiping the blood away and steadying his breath. His smirk returned, even as the pain coursed through him.
The battlefield was alive again, not with fear or exhaustion, but with renewed determination. In the heart of the Ausha Empire's camp, Abuld Pegasus, the war minister, stood tall before the assembled knights, his voice booming like a rallying cry.
"We can't sleep! We can't rest!" he shouted, his voice carrying over the clamor of distant battles. "Look at our Emperor Leo! From morning till now, he's been fighting with every ounce of his strength, showing us what it means to lead! And now, it's our time to rise!"
The knights, weary but inspired, clenched their weapons tighter, their spirits ignited by Abuld's words.
"We are not done! We are not broken! Even without our Emperor, we are not selfish cowards who yield! Let's show the enemy who we are! Let them know that we are the Ausha Empire, and we will fight until the very end!"
The knights roared in unison, their voices shaking the ground beneath them.
"Long live Emperor Leo Gemini! Glory to the Ausha Empire!"
Their cry echoed across the battlefield, a thunderous declaration of loyalty and strength. Without hesitation, the knights charged forward, clashing with the Red Moon soldiers.
The air was filled with the sound of metal meeting metal, the shouts of warriors, and the unwavering resolve of those who refused to back down. The knights fought with renewed vigor, their hearts burning with the fire lit by their Emperor's example.
This was more than a battle—it was a testament to their unity, their loyalty, and their unyielding spirit.
Dons teleported close to Leo, his presence now more ominous than ever. His crimson eyes locked onto Leo, and a smirk played across his face.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Why didn't you attack again?" Dons taunted, his voice dripping with dark confidence.
Before Leo could respond, a chilling transformation began. Shadows seeped from Dons's body like smoke, writhing and swirling around him. At first, they were formless, but soon, the shadows began to take shape, manifesting into small, ghostly figures resembling fallen warriors.
These eerie apparitions whispered in unison, their voices echoing with sorrow and malice. They orbited Dons in a chaotic dance, their forms distorting and shifting like living nightmares.
Leo watched intently, gripping his sword tightly as the shadowy figures converged. They moved with purpose, plunging into Dons's body—through his mouth, nose, ears, and every pore. His body shuddered violently as he absorbed the shadowy energy.
Then, the transformation reached its peak. Dons's long black hair rose, not moved by the wind, but by the pulsating, dark aura emanating from him. The shadows entwined with his hair, giving it a sinister, otherworldly quality.
His voice reverberated with power as he spoke, "Leo, this is your final chance. Witness the true power of a demon king."
The battlefield seemed to hold its breath as the two warriors stood face-to-face, their auras colliding like storms. Leo's golden light met Dons's shadowy darkness, setting the stage for an even fiercer clash.
With their newly unleashed forms, Leo and Dons clashed like madmen, their powers tearing apart the battlefield. Every swing of their weapons sent shockwaves rippling through the air, shattering nearby rocks and igniting the very ground beneath them.
The earth could no longer bear the weight of their ferocity. The once-solid ground cracked and crumbled, rivers of molten lava bursting forth, transforming the battlefield into a fiery inferno. The suffocating heat distorted the air, and the vibrant glow of the molten earth illuminated the darkness of the night.
Far away, soldiers and knights from both sides stopped in their tracks, gazing in horror at the apocalyptic scene unfolding before them. Many believed it was their last day, the end of the world as they knew it. The sheer magnitude of the battle made the earth tremble, the sky churn, and the stars seem to flicker in fear.
In the camps, even the bravest warriors whispered prayers to gods they didn't believe in, hoping for salvation. Only a few, those with unwavering faith or sheer determination, continued to fight, believing their efforts might make a difference.
Amid the chaos, Leo and Dons exchanged blow after blow, their movements blurring with speed and precision. Lava erupted around them like geysers, but neither seemed fazed. Each attack grew more devastating, more unrelenting, as if their very existence depended on this fight.
And perhaps it did—for this was not just a battle of strength, but a clash of wills, ideals, and the fate of their people. The world itself seemed to tremble under the weight of their power, teetering on the edge of destruction.
Their fierce battle reached its breaking point as both Leo and Dons pushed their limits beyond reason. The powers they unleashed had taken their toll. Dons' shadow transformation reached its time limit, his body faltering. For Leo, despite the immense strength granted by the system, he was still human, bound by his mortal constraints. Both transformations dissipated at the same moment, leaving them vulnerable.
Dons staggered, attempting to flashstep away, but his footing gave out. Seeing this, Leo knew it was his final opportunity. Gritting his teeth, he thrust his glowing sword straight toward Dons' chest.
As the blade pierced him, Dons smiled warmly, a strange calm washing over his face. He made no attempt to defend himself, though he clearly could have. Instead, he collapsed to the ground, gazing up at the dawning sky painted in hues of soft blue and gold.
"How could I ever harm your blood?" Dons murmured to himself, his voice faint but serene.
Leo, stunned and confused, stumbled toward Dons, his mind spinning with questions. Kneeling beside the fallen demon, he watched as Dons smiled weakly and extended a trembling hand.
A glowing orange magical circle briefly flashed across Leo's chest but faded without effect. Dons then reached for his right hand, pulling off the celestial system ring. He held it out to Leo.
"You... you were like a son to me," Dons said, his voice growing weaker with every word. "Take care of my people. Promise me. And if you can't... that's okay too."
With those final words, Dons' hand went limp, the light in his eyes fading.
Leo froze as a system window suddenly materialized before him:
**"System Notification:
You have obtained the Celestial System Ring.
You did not defeat the enemy.
The enemy chose to die by your hand.
The enemy was concerned about you. Every attack was intended to injure, not to kill.
Cause of enemy's death: 'Grand Ultimate Spell,' self-inflicted.
Overplayed skill effect canceled.
Thank you for your use."**
As the words flashed before him, a sharp pain exploded in Leo's head, and his vision blurred. Overwhelmed by the truth revealed by the system and the burden of the moment, he collapsed to the ground beside Dons, a deep exhaustion overtaking him.