How long had Ash known Valcas?
A day. Less than an hour, if you added up the time they spent together.
And how had they interacted?
Brutally. Ash had been left bleeding from head to toe, while Valcas had gotten his throat slashed in return.
Suddenly, Ash remembered something from the day before. When he had asked Valcas, "What trouble will it cause you if you lose to me?" Valcas's response had been cryptic:
"You'll find out tomorrow."
Logically, losing a duel to Ash shouldn't have been a big deal for someone like Valcas. His contribution points were still plentiful.
Take Igula, for instance. He had lost even more duels to Ash and was currently lounging comfortably in his dorm room, sipping wine and slicing steak.
No, Valcas hadn't ended up on the trial list because he was in the bottom eight for contribution points. Someone had deliberately put him there.
After all, the rules didn't mandate that only the bottom contributors could be selected. There was plenty of room for interpretation, and whoever controlled the process could legally, seamlessly, send Valcas into a death trap.
But why?
Because he had lost to Ash. That was reason enough. It was punishment for failure, a lesson orchestrated by the Professor Shilling.
Moreover, Valcas's inclusion wasn't just about punishment—it was practically a guarantee of outcome.
Elves on trial in the Blood Moon Court were a spectacle in and of themselves. Once Valcas appeared on the live broadcast, the outcome was already sealed.
When an arrogant, sharp-tongued elf stood before an executioner, moments from being reduced to pulp, and noticed that among the gathered sinners was the very person who had cut his throat and, arguably, caused his downfall...
What would he do?
Fate is nothing more than inevitability cloaked in rationality.
Ash let out a bitter laugh, inwardly marveling at Professor Shilling's ingenuity.
This was brilliant. A masterstroke of manipulation.
Had Valcas not been on the trial list, Ash's chances of survival were slim but not impossible. Maybe something unexpected could have saved him.
But with Valcas present, the outcome was practically predetermined. Not only had his inclusion removed the risk of any voting irregularities, but Valcas's seething hatred ensured that Ash would not survive the ordeal.
When Ash agreed to duel Valcas, his fate had been sealed.
Scenario A: Valcas crushed him in the duel arena.
Scenario B: Valcas dragged him down during the Blood Moon Trial.
No one would save him now.
Everyone in the prison knew about his feud with Valcas. Helping Ash was akin to volunteering to free up a dorm bed in the overcrowded facility.
From a distance, Harvey watched Ash with a mix of pity and morbid anticipation. He looked genuinely regretful that Ash's body would be wasted by the Titan Executioner, unable to serve as "raw material" for his craft.
The ominous music in the air swelled, driving the atmosphere to a crescendo.
Within his sword barrier, Valcas let out a roar that belied his usually refined demeanor. A wave of visible force emanated from him, sending a paralyzing numbness through the bodies of everyone present—even causing the Titan Executioner's cleansing flames to flicker momentarily.
"An impressive display of sonic disruption!" Nagou narrated enthusiastically from the broadcast. "Though I can't identify the specific spirit, it's clearly of the sonic arts school. Given the nature of sound, it's more common to see spirits used for debuffs like lowering an enemy's resistance, rather than direct attacks."
He gestured animatedly. "First, the sonic disruption weakens the foe. Then, a devastating sword strike delivers the coup de grâce. This is classic Valcas—a strategy he's known for!"
"The Merciless Finale, a composite miracle combining swordsmanship with multiple disciplines, is his magnum opus!"
CLANG!
With a resonant hum, all sound suddenly disappeared.
The roar of waves, the howl of wind, even Nagou's excited commentary—all silenced. In that eerie void, Ash watched as Valcas leapt high into the air.
A radiant streak of silver light burst from his blade, brighter than the crimson moonlight.
The moment Valcas's blade touched the Titan Executioner, the silence shattered.
DING!
It wasn't just noise—it was the accumulation of every sound that had been stifled. A cacophony so overwhelming it felt like the air itself was tearing apart.
A shockwave radiated outward, bending light and warping space.
Even the Titan Executioner faltered, its advance momentarily halted.
"...A second-wing miracle... reaching such a level..." Nagou's voice crackled through the speakers.
But no one cared about the commentary anymore. The prisoners' eyes were glued to Valcas, captivated not by the spectacle of destruction but by his defiance.
Countless sinners had faced executioners before. Some resisted with futile desperation; others surrendered to their fate.
Valcas, however, was different.
No one believed he could win.
But they all silently rooted for him.
Even villains longed for a hero who could save them.
"If Mr. Uhl ever publishes this miracle, he'll undoubtedly win the Kaiman Academic Award this year," Nagou noted. "But alas..."
WHAM!
The Titan Executioner's flames surged into a spiraling storm, the fire like razor-sharp blades. A single strike pierced Valcas's barrier, sending him hurtling through the air like a broken kite.
Nagou's voice grew solemn. "The Titan Executioner's cleansing flames are part of its miracle system, integrated into its 'Counterstorm' ability. Whatever damage the sinner inflicts is returned to them in equal measure.
"When you hurt others, you must be prepared to face the same pain in return. A lesson that sinners often fail to grasp."
Valcas skidded across the ground, battered and bleeding. Even so, his grip on his sword never faltered.
But his body betrayed him. Spirits, their forms cracked and battered, emerged from him before dissolving into motes of light.
"Using a second-wing miracle to confront the Titan Executioner comes at a steep price," Nagou continued. "The earlier display of the silent domain—a phenomenon bordering on a third-wing miracle—has cost him dearly, leading to the collapse of many of his sonic spirits."
The Titan Executioner's eight arms spread wide, glowing with power. Its six eyes radiated blood-red light, illuminating the prison lake as if it were daylight.
It raised its weapons—each infused with apocalyptic energies: lightning, fire, ice, poison, vibrations, acid, entropy, and chaos.
"This is the end," Nagou declared softly, clapping. "Let us bid farewell to Valcas Uhl, ascending to the Blood Moon's eternal heavens. May he continue to serve the benevolent Blood Moon Lord."
Despite his broken body, Valcas forced himself up with his sword, glaring defiantly.
His gaze didn't focus on the Titan Executioner.
Instead, he looked across the platform—straight at Ash.
"...Ash Heath..."
His voice was hoarse, filled with venom.
BOOM!
The Titan Executioner unleashed its judgment, an overwhelming storm of destruction that obliterated everything in its path.
But not before Valcas hurled his sword.
Ash tried to dodge, but the red chains binding him left him no room to move. The blade, empowered by spirits, sliced through the air like a bolt of lightning, curving mid-flight to pierce Ash's throat.
A soft whisper escaped Valcas's lips as the light engulfed him:
"...I'm sorry..."
And then, Valcas Uhl was gone.
Not even ashes remained.
The sword lodged in Ash's throat burned with residual energy, nearly tearing his neck apart.
In the Red Mist Café, the live feed showed Ash kneeling, still bound by red chains, head tilted upward as the blade protruded from his neck.
The sight was haunting—like a saint martyred beneath the Blood Moon.
For a moment, the patrons were silent.
Then a blood elf broke into raucous laughter.
"Ha! I bet on Valcas killing Ash, and I was right! Drinks are on me tonight!"
"Cheers!" the crowd erupted. "To Mr. Bell's generosity and the justice of the Blood Moon!"
Even Lorenz raised his glass.
"Cheers!"
The bar's serpent-like owner grinned mischievously.
"You don't seem upset about losing so much money," Lorenz noted.
The bartender hissed, a sly smile curling his lips.
"Who said I lost?"