A Single Wounded Soul

The Seventh Floor of the Demon Realm.

The Peak of Purgatory.

A place overflowing with Apostles.

And now, an unprecedented commotion.

*Kwaaang!*

An Apostle blocking the path was struck directly by magic, annihilated utterly.

The mage who destroyed him flashed a galaxy in her eyes, pouring out raw, desperate fury.

But she was not the only one consumed by rage.

A strand of black hair fluttered, brushing past her cheek.

Dark aura, born from the blade, glimmered fiercely.

In that instant, around a hundred demons charging towards them were slaughtered in unison.

Beneath the black hair, crimson eyes seethed.

Sharin Sajaris, valedictorian of the School of Sorcery.

Iris Hysilion, valedictorian of the School of Martial Arts.

Both second-year students, their combined power even pierced the seventh floor of the Demon Realm.

A common emotion burned in both their eyes.

It was urgency.

After Hanon Airey and Isabelle Luna were caught in the Demon Realm’s teleportation.

Everyone present immediately formed a rescue party.

Magong Transference. A casualty rate of ninety-five percent. It was the most perilous of accidents.

To return alive from a Magong Transference, the most crucial factor was how low a level one was transferred to.

Nothing mattered more than that.

Sharin deciphered the spatial currents of Magong, reading them like the stars.

And then, she delivered the most despairing truth to everyone.

“…Level Nine.”

Hanon and Isabel had been caught in a Magong Transference.

The place they had been transferred to was none other than Level Nine of Magong.

Hearing this, the faces of everyone present froze solid.

The deepest reaches of Magong.

A place no generation save for the Generation of Azure Heaven had ever reached.

To fall there was practically a death sentence.

“We have to go to Level Nine.”

It was Theron who spoke first amongst them.

Ever since learning that Hanon was caught in the Magong Transference.

She had remained silent, quietly listening to the unfolding situation.

The determination in Theron’s eyes hadn’t wavered from the start.

No matter which level Hanon had fallen to, she had been intending to rescue him from the beginning.

“Prince Sweet Potato and Isabel will be waiting there.”

Theron wouldn’t even consider listening if someone called it reckless.

Hanon was there.

That alone was enough reason for her to go.

“Hold.”

It was Iris who stopped such Theron.

Even for Theron, the Third Imperial Princess’s words held weight.

However, she was prepared to move immediately if Iris said anything else.

“One of you, inform the outside world about the current situation and bring back all the support we can get. This is a direct order from Third Imperial Princess Iris Heysillion.”

Iris produced the crest of the Heysillion Imperial Family.

The moment she heard those words, Theron’s eyes widened.

“You’re not the only one who wants to save that child.”

Iris, from the moment she heard the news, was already formulating a plan.

“We’ll divide into an advance team and a rear guard. The advance team descends, while the rear guard follows with as much support as possible.

We’ll also request rescue assistance from the other academies.

From the fifth floor, our paths merge with the other academies, so the rear guard will rendezvous and bring them along.”

She issued commands with a calmness that belied the urgency.

Every student nodded in unison at her charisma and leadership.

In that moment, all realized why Iris was being touted as the next Empress.

Iris Heysirion, the ultimate villainess.

They were reminded, anew, of the weight of that name.

“Sharin Sazalis, you can track them, can’t you?”

“Yes, of course.”

Sharin had already completed her tracking magic through the Milky Way.

Like Seron, she was determined to rescue them, no matter where they were.

“Then, I’ll now call out the members of the advance team.”

The composition had been decided long ago.

The strongest team in history, capable of breaking through the Demon Palace.

A golden generation of flames that would surpass even the Generation of Azure Heavens.

And now.

The advance rescue team, comprised of the most powerful individuals.

They descended the Demon Palace at the fastest pace in history.

Vanguard: Hania, Seron, Iris, Van, Aisha, Eve.

Rear guard: Sharin, Poara, Dorara, Beakiring.

Healing and support: Grantoni, Venenzia, Yoahim, Sirmiel.

The most extravagant force in the history of Zerion Academy.

A madness fueled by Iris’s request, even bringing in the Saint.

The vanguard was an impenetrable, invincible shield.

The rear guard, an invincible spear that could pierce anything.

Healing and support, the ultimate aid, capable of resurrecting the dead.

Perhaps, to the ninth floor of the Demon Palace.

A power perhaps capable of challenging even the Archfiend.

Though, only a quintet could enter the Archfiend’s chamber, their raw force of breakthrough was unparalleled.

They charged, writing a new chapter in the history of descents into the Demonic Palace.

*Kugugugung!*

At that instant, the mountain floor crumbled, and an Apostle, colossal in form, rose up.

“Poara, junior!”

“Yes!”

At Beakiring’s call, Poara conjured her spirits.

The highest-level spirit contractor and the spirit lord contractor.

The supreme fire spirit ignited flames, and the spirit lord’s wind amplified them.

A vortex of fire and flames surged, obliterating the giant Apostle’s upper body completely.

However, the giant Apostle had no intention of dying quietly.

From his shattered form, stone-like demons cascaded down.

The moment they threatened to overwhelm the rear guard,

Van and Eve stood as a barrier.

The lazy genius, Van’s sword arced, scattering clear, bright aura.

The unyielding azure flame, Eve’s sword blazed, scattering brilliant azure flames as it shot forth.

The stone demons were shattered to pieces by the two’s blades.

Some splinters of rock flew, causing wounds, but it was nothing.

Saint Sirmiel and Joachim healed their bodies.

Soon after, Grantoni’s soul magic and Benencia’s curse magic supported their bodies as well.

Among them, there were undoubtedly those who were usually at odds with each other.

But at this moment, they all cooperated, solely to save the two.

Beside them, Seron swung her axe with both hands.

Sweat beaded on her face.

“Seron, you’re pushing yourself too hard, senior.”

Aisha spoke to her, and Seron gasped for breath.

“I’m fine. There’s still a long way to go.”

Seron had no intention of collapsing until she rescued Hanon.

Even if she was the weakest asset among them, she was determined to give it her all.

“It was because I insisted, stubbornly, on coming.”

Seron’s gaze swept across the others.

The knowledge that she was the weakest link weighed on her, tightening her grip on the axe.

The fact that she was insufficient to save Hanon brought tears close to the surface.

‘I will become stronger.’

Seron renewed her resolve this day.

‘I will become strong enough to stand beside him.’

Now was not the time to weep over her weakness.

And so, Seron hardened her heart further.

When they returned, she would be stronger.

She poured all her longing into a desperate hope for his safety.

“Hania, the path?”

“We’re almost there.”

Hania replied to Iris’s question, she who had broken through the front lines.

They were close to reaching the eighth floor.

But everyone knew.

That from the eighth floor onward, a true hellscape would begin.

The seventh and eighth floors were on completely different levels.

The apostles that appeared on the eighth floor were beyond comparison to those of the seventh.

Each and every one a named apostle.

Even then, the apostles’ power seemed to be divided into ranks.

This large group wasn’t suited for clearing the eighth floor.

It might be better to divide and move quietly, individually.

Iris pressed her lips into a thin line.

Even she, considered the strongest of the imperial family in history, couldn’t gauge whether she could clear the eighth floor.

But they had to clear it.

Hanon was below.

The boy who would do anything to solve her nightmares.

Her cousin, and the first person she had begun to consider family.

‘Losing family only needs to happen once.’

A mother, killed by nightmare.

She wouldn’t suffer that pain again.

No matter what, she would save him.

Iris’s red eyes flashed fiercely.

“Uh.”

Then, Sharín, who was showering magic from the sky, widened her eyes.

Her head snapped, tilting toward something.

She wasn’t the only one reacting.

One by one, the others also noticed something and turned their heads.

A pure white light was pouring out from there.

Everyone present knew the meaning of that intense, almost warm light.

“Isabelle.”

Ban spoke, having witnessed her awakening to the wings of the goddess firsthand.

The moment she realized, Sharín was the first to cut through the air from above.

The others hurriedly began to follow.

Sharín’s face, flying ahead at the front, was more rigid than it had ever been.

Her heart was constantly churning.

The face of Hanon kept surfacing in her mind.

Hanon was always one to push himself.

Especially, he had a strong tendency to prioritize others over himself.

He would be fine if he were alone.

But the fact that he was with Isabelle made her even more uneasy.

‘Because my husband is a fool.’

She was certain he would have recklessly thrown his body into danger.

Sharín felt a strange feeling of pressure in her chest.

She had never experienced such anxiety before.

She had only recently admitted to herself that she loved Hanon.

The feeling of love being so worrisome and agonizing was also a first for her.

This anguish was not happiness.

But that’s why she wanted to see Hanon even more.

She wished him unharmed.

A string of dark premonitions danced in Sharin’s mind.

Could she endure, should something befall him?

She didn’t know.

And that unknowing was what frightened her most.

“Husband.”

Sharin accelerated towards the light.

“Husband, husband, husband.”

That name, a fervent prayer, guided her to the moment.

*KWA-aaa-aaa-ANG!*

With a thunderous roar, a being of immense scale, its head nearly scraping the sky, crashed to the ground.

It was the gatekeeper of the seventh floor.

A creature that guarded the door, allowing neither entrance nor exit.

And the one who had brought it down stood on the ground, feet planted, gasping for air.

Sharin recognized her and her eyes widened.

“Bel!”

Sharin cried out Isabel’s pet name as she descended.

“Lin.”

Isabel, still breathless, looked at Sharin.

She was a wreck compared to the last time they had met.

Malnutrition and accumulated exhaustion, layered with wounds.

There was seemingly no part of her that was unscathed.

But the emotion held within Isabel’s eyes was the most concerning.

They were pools of worry, anxiety, and an urgent desperation.

Sharin felt a sudden, sinking lurch in her chest.

No.

It couldn’t be.

As Sharin approached Isabel, Isabel slowly unfurled her wings.

And there, tucked away, was a boy.

One of his legs was nearly torn off, and his left arm was already gone by dusk.

His eyes, untouched by blemish, remained serenely closed, unwilling to open.

“Ah…”

Sharin cradled Hanon’s cheek with trembling hands.

The warmth emanating from him was so faint, it startled her.

He was dying.

He was, without question, slipping away.

Sharin’s face contorted, more broken than she thought possible.

Magic surged wildly around her, a chaotic tempest.

Her heart felt like it was shattering.

Her strength drained away, threatening to leave her collapsed on the spot.

It was as though the world itself had crumbled.

Her breath wouldn’t settle.

Never had she felt like this.

Even on the day her mother succumbed to the pox, she had watched the scene with detached calm.

But the sight of a boy, not even family, dying before her eyes was shattering her more profoundly than anything she had ever known.

Only then did Sharin understand.

I cannot live without him.

The feeling she had vaguely dismissed as mere affection…

In that moment, she understood it was truly love.

“I’m sorry, this person… He was trying to protect me…”

Isabelle spoke, striving to compose herself.

For a fleeting moment, rage flared within Sharin, directed at Isabelle, but she suppressed it.

It wasn’t Isabelle’s fault.

Isabelle was simply shouldering the blame, trying to help Sharin regain control.

“Kyyyyaaa!”

Just then, Seron, having pursued Sharin madly, screamed.

She shoved Aisha, whom she had been supporting, aside and lunged towards Hanon.

“Sweet potato Prince, no, no! It can’t be! Healing, heal him! Holy one, quickly, quickly!”

Seron cried out incoherently, her mind unraveling.

Her face was a wreck of tears, utterly devastated.

“Everyone, get a hold of yourselves.”

It was Iris, scolding Sharin and Seron, who appeared then.

She, too, was more shaken than anyone else by Hanon’s current state, but she was the leader here.

Moreover, a princess who would guide the empire.

That was her.

Therefore, Iris was barely holding onto her sanity.

It was thanks to the education she had received her entire life as a princess.

“Holy One.”

“Understood.”

“I’ve already requested support from the Holy Maiden above. She’s joining us, so from now on, the remaining people need to establish a defensive line.”

Iris issued instructions rapidly, panting for breath.

Her vision was blurred by Hanon’s condition, but she bit down hard on her lip and barely endured.

“Isabelle.”

“…Yes, Iris-nim.”

Isabelle answered with a subdued face.

Isabelle’s eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from Hanon.

“I’ll hear the details later. You should receive treatment and rest as well.”

Isabelle lowered her head.

Watching her, Iris exhaled and turned away.

As family, she wanted to be by his side more than anyone, but protecting him was more helpful than staying with the rescue team right now.

As a cousin, as a princess, and as a leader.

Iris steadfastly moved to command the team.

A single injury created shockwaves throughout the different individuals, and so the Autumn Magic Palace battle came to an end.