Ignarok pressed Stingara with brutal force.

  Each strike of the flaming sword made the ground tremble.

  The heat suffocated, the demonic aura crushed.

  Stingara fell to her knees.

  Her body trembled.

  Tears burned in her eyes.

  She remembered her father.

  The humiliation.

  The contempt.

  Meliora’s gaze — always brighter.

  Ignarok’s laughter.

  Souta’s disdain.

  The pain was unbearable.

  But something inside her… exploded.

  — “Enough… I won’t run anymore!”

  Her solar aura expanded.

  The battlefield was painted in red and orange.

  The heat changed.

  It was no longer suffocating.

  It was radiant.

  Radiant Explosion: a wave of solar energy swept across everything.

  The ground lit up as if the sky itself had descended.

  Ignarok screamed, swallowed by the light.

  His body burned, twisted, until it turned to ashes.

  At the center of the field, Stingara shone.

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  Not like the midday sun.

  Not like the darkness of night.

  But like the selfish sunset —

  the thin line that separates light from shadow.

  She collapsed, nearly drained of mana, but victorious.

  Souta, taking advantage of the distraction, advanced against Zepharion.

  Shadow Step.

  He appeared before him.

  A single strike.

  Shadow Spoon pierced the Temporal’s heart.

  Zepharion’s eyes widened, blood spilling from his mouth.

  — “The wind… always… erodes…”

  And then he collapsed, dead.

  Silmure, exploiting Stingara’s weakness, cast his threads.

  They bound her, tearing part of her clothes.

  Souta blushed for a moment.

  — “Damn it, this isn’t the time for fanservice…”

  Stingara shouted:

  — “Why are you blushing, you pervert?! Get these threads off me!”

  Souta raised the spoon.

  Sky-Spider Spoon.

  Demon-Slaying Wind.

  Thousands of blades of wind and shadow exploded, disintegrating Silmure and his threads in a storm of darkness.

  Stingara collapsed, exhausted.

  Souta caught her in his arms.

  By accident, his hand brushed lightly against her chest.

  He pulled back immediately, embarrassed.

  The princess fell again to the ground, blushing and furious.

  Souta turned his back, thinking to himself:

  “Come on… fanservice helps break the tension, but don’t use it on me. — Kegareta Gamer.”

  In the end, Souta walked toward the gate of the Demon Realm.

  The colossal structure pulsed in darkness, as if it breathed.

  Stingara, still trembling, rose when she noticed.

  Her eyes widened in terror.

  — “What are you doing?! Isn’t it enough already?! You want to go in there?! Are you insane?! Are you listening to me?!”

  Her desperation was clear.

  Souta laughed, touching the invisible barrier that covered the gate.

  — “This is the point where I love the writer.”