All heads turned to the sky. There, Egologia descended slowly, his crimson wings spread wide. On his shoulder, he carried a lifeless body—Gamora. His feet touched the ground, and he advanced slowly before throwing Gamora's corpse in front of them.
"Dead? Who is he?[Morgan]
Claude whispered to himself. "As I expected... that amulet belonged to him."
But what truly shocked him wasn't that. It was what Egologia said next.
"Or rather... I killed him."
Darmin, the Magins, even Morgan himself stood frozen, unable to comprehend what they had just heard.
"You killed him? Who are you?"
Egologia continued walking, his voice calm but laced with an edge.
"Me? Just a newly joined guard."
Then, in a colder tone, he added, "As for killing him? Well, I crushed him like a tank."
Morgan raised an eyebrow, then began to advance slowly. The golden aura around him began to glow, rising like a blazing sun, obscuring everything behind him.
"A person of no identity like you... killed him? Great."
Egologia whispered to himself, "Damn, he resembles the sir. Good thing I absorbed Gamora's immense maga after melting him..."
Morgan disappeared.
Egologia too!
Then, in an instant, he reappeared in the sky. A massive collision erupted. A golden fist met a crimson fist. Pure energy pressed against the air itself, creating shockwaves that rippled through.
"This aura... who are you? Really?" Morgan demanded, his voice like thunder.
Egologia wasn't surprised, but he realized his opponent was someone—or something—far beyond expectations.
"Oh, didn't you want to make sure yourself? Well, I'm tired as you kno—"
Before he could finish, Morgan's second fist pierced through his face, a blow so powerful it sent Egologia hurling toward the ground like a thrown cow.
Morgan descended slowly, walking toward the crater made by Egologia's impact. His eyes didn't calm. There was something suspicious. He looked down, his voice deadly:
"Hoooy you! You pale hair... I'll really find out myself, really!"
"Wait, my lord!"
Morgan turned, his blazing gaze meeting Claude's eyes.
"This person... he has done much. We have all witnessed it."
The Magins nodded in agreement, speaking one after the other:
"He humbled the Fist of the Ocean, lord."
"His maga alone did the unimaginable."
"And despite being unknown to us... we know he's not a liar."
Claude added, with a confidence he didn't have minutes ago:
"He is a guard under me... I knew of his abilities."
Everyone was surprised.
Morgan turned back to Claude, then...
With one aura-infused fist, he struck Claude in the face. The blow exploded the blood vessels in Claude's face, sending him flying backward. His body bent unnaturally before crashing to the ground.
Morgan stood over him, his voice dripping with disdain:
"So... you hide behind a guard under you? Damn the weakness with which you have marginalized our family."
Family.
Egologia, amidst the dust, spat, "That beast... Damn, he's Claude's father? I didn't wrong the resemblance indeed."
And then they appeared in the sky—reinforcements. Many with high jumps were accelerating toward the field. Morgan looked up, his breaths slow and deliberate.
"Unfortunately, I brought many... despite your few. Who expected from us in the capital all this weakness?"
The wings of support descended over the ruins, and the knights and healers began to spread through the rubble, searching for survivors amidst the devastation left by the great clash. The echoes of commands reverberated, and the recruits hurried to carry out their tasks.
Meanwhile, some knights gathered around the crater formed by Egologia. He hadn't completely lost consciousness. He lifted his head slightly, his body battered but his spirit unbroken.
Morgan stepped forward, stopping at the edge of the crater, looking down with a gaze that could pierce steel.
"You said you killed him, didn't you?"
Egologia didn't answer immediately. Instead, he exhaled heavily and turned his head with difficulty to look at Morgan.
"I crushed him like an insect."
Morgan narrowed his eyes, then turned away.
"Take him."
Egologia, now bound by seven golden chains, each one tightly held by seven royal soldiers, was dragged as they marched with steady steps. This wasn't just restraint… it was a public humiliation. He tried to move his wrists, but the chains burned his skin, pulsating with an energy he had never felt before, as if they were specifically designed to subdue someone like him.
'Oh… all this caution? Damn humans.'
He raised his head with difficulty, his voice dripping with sarcasm:
"Is this how you welcome a man who saved the kingdom?"
Claude lay on a luxurious stretcher, unconscious... body shattered... spirit barely holding together.
After all this...
The crowds lined up in every corner. Despite the long rows of many nobles, there was no sound except stifled breaths… No corpses, no remains, only soft black remnants… nameless markers, without graves.
When the golden trumpets sounded, everyone bowed.
It was the announcement of the king's arrival.
The King of Zirafin, the man who only appears when history trembles.
His steps were heavy, burdened by the weight he carried on his shoulders. The man of the day stood before a loss he had a hand in... and the reason for his coming here was the greatest commemoration, for the spirit of Valeras, a spirit that lingers here.
Valeras was as vast as the entire square. He was with them, and he would remain so...
And now!
[Location: The Royal Capital]
[The Balstera Hall]
Balstera was the most ancient hall of trials in the kingdom, where judgments were only issued before the kingdom's elite and those in power.
The ceiling was terrifyingly high, intricately carved to reflect the grandeur of Zeraphin.
Golden pillars stretched along the length of the hall, and heavy, gleaming white curtains hung down.
Amidst this lavish style… Egologia, by golden chains, knelt on the ground. Everyone was watching him.
On the sides, the commanders and generals, led by Morgan, who remained motionless, his golden eyes fixed on him like a hawk watching its prey.
On the other side, politicians and nobles sat. And on one of the royal thrones, sat King of Zirafin, his face stern with unspoken questions, without any clear expression. Then… She looked at him.
A woman seated on a high chair before everyone, serving as the supreme judge.