The battlefield was quiet now — too quiet — the kind of silence that only follows the end of something enormous. The last traces of black aura drifted off Morvath's body like fading smoke, dissolving into the cold night air.
His knees buckled.
His vision blurred.
His demonic form flickered violently — wings glitching into mist, horns cracking, tail dissolving into nothing. His chest heaved with each breath, every inhale a struggle, every exhale a tremor.
He tried to take one more step.
Just one.
But his legs gave out.
Morvath fell forward—
A streak of red tore across the battlefield, cutting through the moonlight like a blade.
Before Morvath hit the ground, an arm wrapped around his torso, stopping his fall with effortless precision.
A familiar voice followed, low and sharp.
"Tch. You're a damn mess."
Morvath blinked, vision stabilizing just enough to see the red glow.
Zeth.
His black dress suit was torn at the sleeves, red aura flickering around him like embers caught in a storm. His crimson longsword was sheathed across his back, still humming faintly from the speed he'd traveled.
Morvath's body fully reverted now — horns gone, wings gone, tail gone — leaving him in his normal form, trembling and barely conscious.
"Zeth…" Morvath muttered, breath ragged. "You… took your time…"
Zeth snorted. "Shut up. You're lucky I got here before you face‑planted."
Morvath coughed out a weak laugh. "Would've been… a soft landing…"
"Yeah? Well, I'm not scraping your dumb ass off the dirt tonight."
Zeth shifted his grip, pulling Morvath fully into one arm, supporting his entire weight with ease. Morvath's head slumped against Zeth's shoulder, exhaustion finally overtaking him.
Zeth glanced toward the crater behind them — toward the unmoving body lying in the dust.
The Angel King.
Still. Silent. Gone.
Zeth's eyes narrowed, red glow sharpening.
"So you really did it," he said quietly. "You actually finished him."
Morvath exhaled, a tired smirk tugging at his lips. "Damn right… I did…"
Zeth let out a slow breath — not relief, not pride, just a steady acknowledgment of the weight of the night.
"Good," he said. "Then we're done here."
Morvath's eyes fluttered, exhaustion pulling him under.
Zeth tightened his hold.
"Hey. Don't pass out yet," he muttered. "You can sleep when we get back."
Morvath mumbled something incoherent — probably an insult — before finally going limp in Zeth's arms.
Zeth rolled his eyes.
"Idiot."
He shifted Morvath's weight, preparing to move.
"Eiden killed Yajin. You killed the Angel King. That's it. No more enemies tonight."
The wind brushed past them, carrying the faint scent of dust and fading aura.
Zeth stepped forward, red energy gathering around his feet.
And with a burst of crimson light, he vanished into the night — carrying Morvath with him.