The sky split apart with a sound like the world’s spine snapping.

Luca froze mid-breath, his gaze locked on the gaping hole overhead. A jagged black void yawned open, its edges writhing as if reality itself were in pain. Cold sweat prickled his neck. His lips moved before he could stop them, the words raw, almost trembling.

“Can I… finally see you in this life… my worst nightmare?”

The air thickened—suffocating, metallic with the taste of blood.

“Luca!” Celestia’s voice cracked, sharp with urgency. She yanked the phoenix’s reins, wings beating in frantic bursts as the beast screamed and shot away from the epicenter.

Below, the world erupted into horror. People and beasts alike convulsed mid-stride—then burst into grotesque scarlet bubbles, their bodies collapsing into nothingness with wet, splattering pops.

Three figures tore upward into the sky, moving so fast the air shivered in their wake.

Luca’s heart lurched. He knew them.

The first was Rolph, blazing with that stubborn, unyielding energy that could split mountains. The second—A dark haired man, steady as stone yet burning with battle-hunger. The third… a woman at Raymond’s side, her face hidden behind a silver-threaded veil, her very presence carrying a chilling weight.

Isn’t that Raymond and the woman I saw in the vision of beastridge mountain?

“Devil Emperor!” Rolph’s voice was a roar that shook the air. “You are finally here. Come out and battle us!”

Celestia’s golden eyes widened, darting between the hole and the warriors. “Is this it? Are the rumors true—that the fight between the Devil Emperor and the heroes happened here?”

“But…” Luca’s brow furrowed, his voice low and uneasy. “Where are the rest of the heroes? It shouldn’t be just three…”

The answer came as a voice—deep, ragged, and venomous—spilled from the abyss like poison smoke.

“You are not worthy of fighting me. I will take the General with me… now die.”

A booming laugh followed, chilling the marrow in Luca’s bones. Santos.

“Hahahahahaha—”

And then he was gone. The hole snapped shut like an eye closing.

But what replaced it was worse.

A howling, corrupted hurricane of darkness unfurled in the sky, its spiraling mass blotting out the light. The wind tore at the land with claw-like force, the very air screaming as chaos erupted below.

Even from far away, the storm’s fury slammed against them—its pressure gnawing at Luca’s ribs, its roar rattling the phoenix’s wings.

The three heroes charged at the maelstrom with unimaginable power, their strikes flashing like tiny suns against the consuming dark. In the next heartbeat, ten more figures appeared beside them—the same warriors who had once saved Luca and Celestia.

“What are they doing?” Celestia’s voice was tight, her hands gripping the phoenix’s reins hard enough to whiten her knuckles.

Luca narrowed his eyes, catching fragments of movement. They weren’t fighting… they were arguing.

He turned to Celestia, about to speak—when his words strangled in his throat.

Her form was… flickering. Wisps of light peeled from her skin like wind tearing petals from a flower.

“Wh-what’s… happening to you?” His voice cracked.

Celestia looked down at herself, then exhaled sharply, frustration tightening her jaw. “Looks like our time is getting over here.”

“Huh?”

Luca barely had time to process before his own body began to dissolve, his fingers losing their solidity, fading into nothing. The hurricane’s roar filled his ears, the world tilting and stretching until it was all just noise and blinding light—

Even as their forms flickered and thinned into ghostly silhouettes, Luca and Celestia could still see the chaos below with haunting clarity.

The three heroes—Rolph, Raymond, and the veiled woman—had taken a step back from the raging storm, no longer charging toward the hole in the sky. Instead, they darted across the battlefield, their weapons flashing as they cut through debris and shattered corrupted tendrils, pulling survivors away from the zone of death.

Luca’s gaze shifted, drawn to the ten figures—the ones who had saved him before. They did not retreat. They did not hesitate.

They charged straight toward the black, roaring hurricane that had replaced the sky tear.

The ground trembled beneath their steps, cracks spiderwebbing outward as their mana flared to impossible heights. Winds howled like a thousand tortured souls, tearing chunks of earth into the air. Every heartbeat brought the hurricane closer to devouring the entire plain.

And yet, those ten stood there.

The leader—a broad-shouldered man with silver streaks in his hair—slammed his palms into the ground. The air ignited with golden runes, circles upon circles blooming outward. The others spread out, each pulling something from their storage rings: ancient relics wrapped in chains, crystal spheres that pulsed with inner light, blades humming with enchantments so old they seemed alive.

Luca’s eyes widened. They’re… setting up a barrier.

Mana surged like a tidal wave.

One by one, the ten activated their artifacts, stabbing them into the earth or hurling them into the sky. Beams of light—gold, crimson, azure—lanced upward, forming an immense dome over the battlefield. The barrier trembled as the hurricane struck it, black winds grinding against the shield with the sound of worlds colliding.

Luca’s throat tightened. They’re not just holding it back… they’re sealing themselves in.

The ten stood inside the barrier with the hurricane, its tendrils already lashing at them like vipers. The leader turned to the others and nodded. Not a single one hesitated.

Then—battle erupted.

They fought like gods defying the end of the world. The silver-haired man’s fists struck with the weight of mountains, punching holes in the storm before it could close in. A woman clad in red robes spun in the air, her staff weaving rivers of flame that carved blazing arcs against the darkness. An archer with glowing eyes fired arrows so bright they lit the battlefield like a second sun.

Every motion was precise. Every strike, absolute.

And yet, the hurricane was relentless. It howled, clawing at their bodies, gnawing at their defenses. Black lightning cracked, hurling two of them to the ground. They rose anyway, blood streaming down their faces—but smiling.

They’re smiling.

The flames scorched, the light burned, the earth quaked—but none of them faltered. Even when the hurricane tore through the barrier, they slammed their artifacts into the ground again, reforging it with every shred of strength they had left.

Luca’s heart pounded. His hands curled into fists without him realizing. His vision blurred as he watched them bleed, burn, and stand tall anyway.

Then, in the middle of the chaos… the veiled woman among the heroes outside turned her head.

Her eyes—deep and knowing—met Luca’s.

For an instant, everything went quiet.

Then the hurricane roared again, swallowing the ten within its endless black maw. The barrier pulsed one final time… and then went still.

Before he could gather his thoughts, the world went black.

He didn’t know how long he drifted in that darkness—seconds, minutes, maybe hours—but the storm of memories refused to let him rest. Rolph’s grim face. The clash with the soldier of the 56th cavalry. The camp steeped in the stench of blood and despair. Children with hollow eyes. Women clutching lifeless bodies. His own desperate fight for survival.

And then—those ten people.

The barrier.

The hurricane.

Their smiles as they threw their lives away.

And above it all, the suffocating pressure of the Devil Emperor’s presence. He hadn’t even appeared, and yet, lives had been snuffed out as easily as candles in a gale.

So they are still here, even after 7000 years have passed, guarding the barrier even if their life is gone.

Then are all those people and the beast we fought before coming here , are all those people…

Luca’s eyes fluttered open. His first sight was Celestia’s face above him—serene, composed, her arms encircling him as if shielding him from the world. The sound of the hurricane roared faintly beyond, muted as if distant.

He blinked, confusion lacing his voice.

“…Huh? We were inside the hurricane when we travelled back in time, right?”

Celestia’s gaze stayed steady, unshaken. No trace of panic, only the quiet poise of an empress who had seen too much to be startled.

Luca stared at her, a bitter, almost incredulous thought slipping into his mind.

I’m really dying… aren’t I?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep