The wall behind Ami exploded.
Stone and debris rained down as a figure burst through the opening, his armor cracked, his power blazing. The Demon King stood in the ruins of the wall, his eyes wild, his claws extended.
"WHERE ARE YOU, KADE?" he roared.
His voice echoed through the corridor, pressing against their ears, their minds, their souls. The symbols on the walls pulsed in response, blazing with crimson light.
Then he stopped.
His eyes swept across the corridor—past the shattered stone, past the debris, past the fallen hunters. They landed on Ami, on Corrin, on Kael, on Ryuta.
They landed on Malagar.
The executioner stood frozen, his great axe still raised, his featureless helmet tilted toward his king.
"Well," the Demon King said, his voice dropping to something cold and flat. "This is a surprise."
Ami's heart pounded.
She was trapped.
Behind her, Malagar. The executioner, his great axe still raised, his presence a wall of death and shadow.
In front of her, the Demon King. The sovereign of the Twelve Hells, his power crackling around him, his eyes blazing with ancient fire.
She was between two kings.
And neither of them was on her side.
The Demon King stepped through the ruined wall, his gaze sweeping across the scene. He looked at the fallen hunters, at the shattered stone, at Malagar standing over them like a judge at an execution.
"You found them," the Demon King said.
Malagar inclined his head. "They were attempting to infiltrate the lower levels."
"And you stopped them?"
"They were... persistent."
The Demon King's smile widened. "I expected nothing less from Valley's Watch. The fragment's companions have always been stubborn."
He turned to Malagar, his voice carrying a note of approval.
"You've done well," he said. "Better than I expected."
Malagar said nothing. But something in his posture shifted—almost imperceptible, but there. Satisfaction, perhaps. Or surprise.
The Demon King raised his hand.
Crimson light gathered around his palm—dense, pulsing, hungry. The same spell he had used against Aurelion. The air around it shimmered with heat, distorting the space around his hand.
"But I'll take it from here."
Malagar stepped back, his great axe lowering slightly. The hunters tensed, their weapons raised, their eyes fixed on the gathering power.
The Demon King's smile widened.
"Any last words?" he asked.
Ami moved.
She didn't think. She didn't plan. She just moved.
"RUN!" she shouted.
She grabbed Corrin's arm, hauling him to his feet. Ryuta was already moving, his katana raised. Kael scrambled after them, his pistols empty but his legs still working.
The Demon King's sphere of crimson energy shot forward.
It struck the wall where they had been standing, vaporizing stone, sending shockwaves through the corridor. The impact threw them forward, tumbling across the floor. Heat washed over them, searing and intense.
They scrambled to their feet and ran.
Behind them, the Demon King laughed—a cold, hollow sound.
"You can't run forever," he called out. "This is my fortress. My domain. Every corridor, every chamber, every shadow—they belong to me."
Ami didn't look back.
She just ran.
The corridors blurred past.
They turned corners, ducked through passages, sprinted down stairs. The fortress was a maze, its halls twisting and turning in ways that defied logic.
But they kept moving.
Corrin was limping, his shield arm hanging limp at his side. Ryuta was bleeding from a gash on his forehead. Kael was pale, his breath ragged.
But they kept moving.
"Where are we going?" Corrin gasped.
"Anywhere that's not here," Ami replied.
"Not helpful."
"Shut up and run."
They turned another corner—and stopped.
Ahead of them, a doorway. Massive, dark, covered in the same pulsing symbols they had seen throughout the fortress. The energy radiating from it was different—older, more patient.
A library.
Ami didn't hesitate.
She ran toward it, her hands pressing against the massive doors. They groaned, resisting, then slowly swung open.
She stepped through—
And a fist came through the opening.
Fast. Brutal. Unforgiving.
Corrin was there, his shield raised, blocking the strike. The impact sent him flying backward, his boots skidding across the stone floor. He crashed into a shelf, books raining down around him.
He groaned, pushing himself up.
"Well," he said, rubbing his shoulder. "That's a punch I remember."
Ami's heart stopped.
A figure emerged from the darkness beyond the door.
Battered. Broken. Bleeding from a dozen wounds. His armor was cracked, his face pale, his body trembling with exhaustion.
But he was alive.
Aurelion.
He stood in the doorway, his fists still raised, his eyes wild with the remnants of combat. Then he saw them—Ami, Corrin, Kael, Ryuta—and his expression shifted.
Recognition. Relief. Exhaustion.
"Aurelion!" Ami ran toward him.
He caught her as she reached him, his arms wrapping around her, holding her tight. She could feel his body shaking, feel the blood seeping through his torn armor.
"You're alive," she whispered.
"Barely."
"Barely counts."
He almost smiled. "That's what I keep telling myself."
Corrin limped over, his shield still raised. "Next time, warn a guy before you throw a punch."
Aurelion looked at him. "Sorry. Didn't know it was you."
"Who else would it be?"
"Anyone else in this fortress."
"Fair point."
Kael approached, his pistols lowered, his eyes scanning Aurelion's wounds. "You're hurt."
"Been worse."
"Been better too."
Aurelion almost smiled again. "Also fair."
Ryuta stood apart, his katana sheathed, his eyes watchful. "We need to move. The Demon King and Malagar are still out there."
Aurelion nodded slowly. "I know. I ran into them."
"Ran into them?" Ami pulled back, her eyes searching his face. "You fought the Demon King?"
"Fought. Ran. Survived." He paused. "In that order."
"Where are you hurt?"
"Everywhere."
She grabbed his arm. "Then we need to get you out of here."
The doors behind them slammed shut.
The strike force stood frozen, their weapons raised, their eyes scanning the darkness. The library was silent, its shelves stretching into shadow, its air thick with dust and age.
Aurelion leaned against a shelf, his body screaming, his vision swimming. The shards beneath his skin pulsed weakly, trying to heal him. But he was running out of power. He was running out of time.
"We need to move," Ryuta said, his katana drawn. "The Demon King will find us."
"He can't enter the library," Aurelion said quietly.
Everyone turned to him.
"What do you mean?" Ami asked.
Aurelion pushed himself upright, his body protesting. "I don't know how I know. But I can feel it. This place—it's separate from the rest of the fortress. He can't reach us here."
Corrin frowned. "Then why did the doors close?"
"To keep us in." Aurelion met his eyes. "Or to keep something out."
Ami moved to his side, her hand on his arm. "You're barely standing. We need to get you out of here."
"I know." He looked at her. "And I agree."
She blinked. "What?"
"I said I agree." He almost smiled. "I found what I was looking for. The rest can wait."
"You're actually going to leave?"
"Against my better judgment." He looked around the library—at the shelves, the books, the ancient knowledge that called to him. "But I'm not stupid enough to fight a battle I can't win."
Corrin let out a breath. "Finally. Some sense."
"Don't get used to it."
Kael moved to the map table, his eyes scanning the ancient layout. "The passage to the outer walls is still there. We can reach it from here."
Aurelion limped over, studying the map. The path was circuitous, hidden, winding through forgotten passages and abandoned chambers.
"How long?" he asked.
"An hour. Maybe less."
He nodded slowly. "Then we move now."
They moved through the library, following the path the map had shown them. The shelves stretched in every direction, their surfaces covered in ancient texts. The symbols on their spines pulsed with faint energy, casting long shadows across the floor.
Aurelion walked at the center of the group, his body screaming with each step. Ami stayed close to him, her hand on his arm, ready to catch him if he fell.
"You're worse than you're letting on," she said quietly.
"I'm fine."
"You're lying."
"Doesn't mean I'm not fine."
She shook her head, but didn't argue.
Kael led them through the maze of shelves, his steps certain, his eyes fixed on something only he could see. He navigated by instinct, by the presence that pressed against his mind.
The passage was hidden—a narrow opening behind a false shelf, barely visible in the dim light. Kael pushed through, and the others followed.
The corridor beyond was narrow, dark, its walls rough and unworked. The air was cold, heavy, thick with the scent of dust and old stone.
Ryuta moved to the front, his katana drawn. "This passage hasn't been used in a long time."
"That's the point," Corrin said.
They moved in silence, their footsteps muffled by the debris. The symbols on the walls were faded here, barely visible, their energy weak and distant.
Aurelion could feel it—the fortress pressing against him, trying to find him, trying to pull him back. But the passage was hidden, separate from the main structure. The fortress couldn't reach him here.
Almost there, he thought. Almost out.
The corridor opened into a small chamber.
And at its far end, a door.
Small. Simple. Unadorned.
The exit.
Aurelion moved toward it, his body screaming, his vision swimming. He reached for the handle—
And stopped.
He could feel it. A presence at the edge of his consciousness. Familiar. Patient. Waiting.
The Demon King.
But not in the fortress. Not in the passage.
Somewhere else. Watching. Waiting.
He knows, Aurelion thought. He knows we're leaving. He's letting us go.
He pushed the door open.
The night air hit him—cold, sharp, alive. The sea stretched before him, dark and churning. The mainland was visible in the distance, a dark line on the horizon.
He stepped through.
The others followed.
The door slammed shut behind them.
They stood on the rocky shore, their chests heaving, their bodies trembling. The fortress loomed behind them, dark and forbidding. The sea stretched before them, cold and endless.
They had escaped.
Aurelion collapsed to his knees.
The shards beneath his skin pulsed weakly, trying to heal him. But he was empty. Spent. Broken.
Ami knelt beside him. "We made it."
"We made it."
"Barely."
"Barely counts."
She almost smiled. "You keep saying that."
"Because it keeps being true."
He looked back at the fortress.
The Demon King stood at the edge of the wall, watching them go. His eyes blazed with ancient fire, his power crackling around him.
But he didn't follow.
He just watched.
He let us go, Aurelion thought. He could have stopped us. He chose not to.
Why?
He didn't have an answer.
He turned away.
"Let's go home," he said.