Everyone stood frozen, their breaths shallow as if the air itself had turned to stone. The massive demon loomed before them, its crimson eyes glowing with an unnatural hunger, its fanged grin stretching wider at the sight of trembling humans. The battlefield smelled of iron and smoke, the ground beneath their feet cracked from the sheer pressure of its presence.

  Yuma, gripping his weapon with white knuckles, was the first to break the suffocating stillness. With a desperate roar, he charged forward, swinging with all the strength he had left. The demon barely moved. With a flick of its monstrous arm, it swatted Yuma aside like a child brushing away an insect. Yuma crashed into the debris of a collapsed wall, coughing blood, his weapon clattering uselessly to the ground.

  The others tightened their grip on their blades and staves, forming a shaky defensive circle. They knew one wrong move could mean instant death, yet their fear made their feet heavy, their movements sluggish. The demon’s mocking laughter echoed, each note like a cruel hammer striking their resolve.

  Only Ray stood apart, unarmed. His eyes never left the creature, not in fear, but in silent calculation. The demon noticed him, its grin widening even further, almost curious. It was as if it understood something no one else did—that the most dangerous man in the room was the one without a weapon in his hands.

  Maha’s sword whistled through the air, a silver arc of desperation and resolve, but the demon swayed aside with a mocking ease. Its eyes glimmered with malice as it twisted its clawed hand and sent a counterstrike ripping through the air. Maha barely had time to gasp before the blow was upon her—yet, before it could land, strong arms caught her mid-fall. Ray had leapt forward, pulling her away from death’s reach, but the demon’s power surged like a storm.

  The others rushed in, voices raised in battle cries, their weapons clashing against scales as black as night. Blades sparked and spells flared, but each strike slid off the demon’s hide as if they were no more than raindrops on stone. The creature moved like a shadow given form—effortless, untouchable—cutting them down one by one. Each ally’s scream was silenced in seconds, their bodies flung and buried in the earth as if swallowed by the ground itself.

  Ray tightened his hold on Maha, trying to step back, but the demon’s laughter slithered through the trees, cold and cruel. A sudden force slammed Ray against a massive trunk, the impact rattling his bones. Pain bloomed in his chest, sharp and suffocating. He coughed violently, and warm blood spilled from his lips, painting the dirt below.

  His vision blurred, the world swaying like a fading dream. The demon loomed in the distance, a silhouette of triumph amid the ruin. Maha’s voice was faint, calling his name, but his ears rang with the memory of every loss he had endured. His hand trembled as he reached toward the empty air, his lips moving in a broken whisper.

  “Had I got that power… the power to protect the things precious to me…”

  The darkness swallowed him before the last syllable left his tongue, and Ray fell into the still, cold silence of a deep coma.

  Ray felt himself drifting downward, as if an unseen current were pulling him into an endless ocean. Yet, there was no water—only a black void that stretched beyond sight, swallowing all light and sound. His body felt heavy, sinking deeper and deeper, while his mind throbbed with the weight of guilt. Flashes of the battle played in his head: Maha’s near fall, his own helplessness, the laughter of the demon.

  Then, through the suffocating silence, a voice broke through—gentle, yet filled with urgency. It was the voice of a woman, melodic but tinged with desperation. “Wake up, Eryndor…”

  His eyes strained against the blur. Somewhere above him, faint light danced, forming the outline of a figure. She was distant, almost hidden in a veil of mist. Her hair shimmered faintly, her presence warm against the endless cold.

  “Who… are you?” Ray’s voice trembled, his words half-swallowed by the void.

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  The figure extended her hand toward him, the glow growing brighter. “You have to wake up. Otherwise, you cannot change the world. Please… remember. I’m waiting for you!”

  Her words stirred something deep inside him—a name that felt both foreign and familiar. “What… Eryndor?”

  Before she could answer, the black void shattered into blinding white. Ray stumbled forward and found himself standing in a place of endless light.

  There, seated on a plain white surface, was a slim-fit young man about his age. A soft blue-violet hue wrapped around him like living flame. He wore a long overcoat, and his posture was calm yet expectant, as though he had been waiting a very long time.

  The boy’s lips curled into a faint smile.

  “Welcome!” he said to Ray.

  Ray stared at the boy, the strange glow around him pulsing like a heartbeat. His mouth opened with the most obvious question he could think of. “Who are you?”

  The boy’s gaze hardened. His voice cut through the stillness like a blade. “Stop daydreaming. It’s time to wake up. She is dying.”

  Ray blinked in confusion. “What the—”

  “Shut up.” The boy’s tone snapped like a whip, silencing him instantly. “I’m who? I’m you, and you is me. It’s time to wake up, Eryndor. The person who is Infinity himself can’t even break a simple seal like that? Pathetic. So tell me—how will you save her? Your lover?”

  The words struck Ray harder than any blow. His chest tightened. Lover? Infinity? Seal? None of it made sense, yet every word felt as if it carried truth too heavy to deny.

  The boy leaned forward, his expression sharp and cold. “You are Ray. And Eryndor. You are one. You are the son of Aurelya. Serenith is calling you. How much lamer can you be?”

  Ray’s breath caught in his throat. He could hear his own heartbeat echoing in the whiteness. Fear began to creep up his spine, but more than fear—confusion. The boy’s words were pressing against some hidden door in his mind.

  Remember…?

  Ray’s thoughts raced, almost panicked. Remember? Remember what?

  “Remember? Remember what?” Ray’s voice cracked into the emptiness, echoing through the blinding void.

  Then, like a dam bursting, flashes of memory surged through him—moments so vivid they drowned his thoughts. His mother, Sayuki, smiling gently as she brushed his hair. His sister, Dia, laughing under the moonlight. His father, Eugeo, teaching him how to hold a blade. His master, Chelsea, scolding him for slacking off yet smiling proudly.

  And then—another face. Not Sayuki. Not Chelsea. Not Maha. A woman whose beauty felt celestial, her presence warm yet overwhelming—Aurelya, his real mother.

  More visions followed—Maha’s laughter, her fiery determination… and Serenith, whose eyes felt like an eternal embrace. And then the truth struck like lightning. Maha was Serenith. Serenith was Maha. They were one soul, one heart.

  His chest tightened. He remembered. He remembered everything.

  He was not just Raylight. He was Eryndor—the one who reigns over life and death. The one who had made countless promises… promises to protect, to save, to fight. He had too many bonds to break, too many people to lose. And the most important of all—Serenith—was calling to him.

  The air around him quaked. Mana, immense and ancient, erupted from deep within, swirling like a storm. His very being was alight with power, a cool and unshakable presence blooming from his core.

  “Yes,” Ray whispered, his voice low but firm, “I remember why I’m here. I’m coming.”

  In that moment, the seal shattered. The strange boy gave him a final, knowing look before vanishing into nothingness.

  Ray gasped as his eyes snapped open. The world seemed sharper, brighter, yet the demon still stood there, its cruel smile unchanged. Its red eyes widened slightly as a powerful aura began to radiate from Ray, causing the air to vibrate.

  Without hesitation, Ray scooped Maha’s limp body into his arms. Her skin was pale, her breathing shallow, but as his mana surged, a faint warmth began to spread. The companions who had come with Maha froze, fear rooting them to the spot. Even the demon seemed uncertain, sensing the overwhelming power emanating from him.

  Gently, Ray placed Maha against a tree, her head leaning on its rough bark. He knelt beside her, his own wounds mending as his energy flowed, golden light weaving through him.

  “Sorry, Maha. In this life circle, I’m taking your first kiss away” he whispered, his lips brushing hers.

  Ray’s skill, Healing Method: Kiss of Healing, activated. The moment their mouths met, a crimson glow flowed from Ray to Maha. Blood, infused with mana, transferred between them, knitting her wounds and revitalizing her body. His hands supported her as the process continued, his movements precise and deliberate.

  The kiss deepened, tongues intertwining, his blood merging with hers to accelerate her recovery. The forbidden intimacy shocked everyone watching—companions froze, the demon’s grin faltered, and the forest seemed to hold its breath.

  Minutes passed, though it felt like eternity, until Maha’s body fully healed. Her skin regained color, her chest rose and fell steadily, and a soft sigh escaped her lips even in unconsciousness.

  Ray finally pulled back, breathless but composed. His gaze hardened toward the demon, who now hesitated to move. Those who stood nearby were too stunned to speak, unable to comprehend the overwhelming display of both power and devotion.