"..."
At the end of the world, where even sound had vanished, everyone stood frozen in disbelief.
A storm that devoured the surface of the world was raging.
A flood of light filled the space, sweeping across the sky.
At this moment, the anchor of light that bound the planet shot straight into the firmament—its top unseen, its bottom unreachable—like a towering pillar of light piercing the very core of the planet, illuminating everything in existence.
As they looked up at that towering pillar of light, everyone not only lost their words, but their very souls.
Shock...
Awe...
Fear...
Dread...
Countless emotions flooded their hearts and minds, rendering them motionless, as if their thoughts had been completely erased.
Even those who had remained calm and composed until now were no exception.
Florent.
Ferras.
Even Yuri and Euryale were unable to resist the feeling—they stared up at the end of the world, at the pillar of light that reached into the sky, utterly paralyzed.
'Impossible!'
'Impossible!!'
'Impossible!!!'
All these cries echoed from deep within countless hearts.
Now, Hendrick had completely lost his composure and calm, while the Sword of Authority in his hand suddenly felt fragile—worthless, like scrap metal.
Once, within the royal palace shrouded by the Light of Heaven, holding the Sword of Authority, he had felt omnipotent—powerful, commanding, able to look down on all creation.
But now, before the end of the world that lay beyond, Hendrick suddenly realized that his so-called absolute domain had become insignificant, utterly incomparable to what stood before him.
He was no longer the ruler here, since the ruler of this place had already changed.
At this moment, that new ruler slowly rose from the ground, his back to the towering pillar of light, floating steadily into the air.
He ascended higher than anyone else, looking down upon Hendrick and the others as though he were a god gazing upon the mortal world, while the pillar of light behind him seemed to have become his weapon—as if the moment he raised his hand, that very pillar would transform into a lance and fall into his grasp.
And whatever was targeted by that lance—no matter what it was—would face its end.
"Honestly, I don't really wanna pull out this lance."
Riezel's voice echoed slowly through the air, reaching every ear.
"It isn't meant to target humans, nor any living beings on this land."
"It's meant to strike at the enemy of the world."
"It's what pierces the incarnation of the world's end."
"It's the holy lance made to save mankind, save the world, and save the fate of the planet."
"Once this thing is drawn, the end of the world where it resides will descend—and the end itself will follow."
Each of Riezel's words sounded cold, merciless.
"Too bad, the one who entrusted this thing to me wasn't some savior but a witch who intended to bring about destruction."
"Well, knowing that, I don't give a damn—I'll use it however I want."
"But do tell me—do you really want me to draw this lance?"
At this question, in that instant, whether it was a king of the highest standing or a Sword Saint of the greatest power, each one of them felt a terror that arose from the depths of their soul.
Their instincts screamed.
Their very lives trembled.
It was as if another version of themselves was shouting madly into their ears, begging them to stop the young man, to not let him draw that so-called holy lance. Every one of them clenched their trembling hands tightly, unable to control the fear coursing through them.
Their intuition told them that if this continued, it would all be over.
As soon as that lance was drawn, everything would come to an end—that was the only conclusion, the only fate that awaited them.
"No..."
In an instant, every knight and court magician began shaking their heads in sheer terror.
They were the brave and battle-hardened warriors of Jinas.
They were the ones who had sworn to dedicate their very lives to their kingdom.
By all reason, they should not have lost their composure like this, should not have shown such fear, such helplessness. Yet here, at the very end of the world, their instincts as living beings were pushed to the limit—forcing them to reveal the most fragile, most genuine parts of their souls.
Within the storm that threatened to swallow the world, they wavered, as if they might vanish at any moment.
Even Florent and Ferras were struck speechless for quite some time, their eyes fixed on the pillar of light—the radiant anchor that bound the heavens—staring at it as though it were the most mysterious and magnificent existence in all creation.
Just then, Riezel slowly raised his hand, and as he did, the pillar of light began to transform into a lance, rising higher while streams of light swirled around him.
*Rumble—*
In that instant, the world itself began to tremble, as if on the verge of collapse.
Faced with such a sight, Hendrick could no longer endure it.
"W–Wait!"
Standing amidst the raging storm with the Sword of Authority in hand, Hendrick shouted from the depths of his heart toward the young man high above.
"I'll give you an explanation! Please stop!"
As soon as these words left Hendrick's mouth, the changes at the end of the world came to an abrupt halt.
Riezel narrowed his eyes slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he slowly lowered his hand.
"..."
In that instant, every trace of the phenomenon vanished.
The pillar of light that had pierced the sky disappeared.
The storm that had consumed the world and stripped life of its refuge dissipated.
The end of the world that had revealed itself when the anchor was drawn began to fade away like a mirage losing its color, gradually releasing the throne room that had existed beneath it.
Everyone returned to where they had stood before, staring at the restored throne room with looks of disbelief and lingering fear.
"Huff... Huff... Huff..."
Someone was gasping heavily.
"Just now..."
Someone looked around in panic, wondering if they had merely been dreaming.
"...An illusion?"
Another murmured doubtfully, questioning whether everything they had seen had truly been real.
Even Hendrick slumped back into the throne that had somehow reappeared behind him, panting heavily, drenched in sweat.
"Riezel!"
Yuri broke away from Ferras and rushed toward Riezel.
Riezel stood exactly where he had been all along, as though he had never left the ground—never floated into the air. Beside him, Euryale tilted her head, gazing at him with a dazed, incredulous look, while his expression remained calm and composed.
Florent and Ferras exchanged glances, then turned their eyes toward Riezel in unison.
As for the others, they paid no more attention to their injuries or their once-disciplined composure, but now looked around nervously and bewilderedly, like the most ordinary of people, each exchanging uneasy glances.
Such a scene lingered for a long, long time—until, at last, a voice that sounded to all who heard it like both a god's and a demon's echoed through the throne room.
"Speak."
Riezel's gaze pierced straight toward Hendrick, seated on the throne—his expression calm, yet cold.
"Why did you confine Lizbeth?"
At this question, Hendrick finally returned to his senses, only to fall into a long, heavy silence.
Recalling everything that had just happened, his eyes flickered uncertainly as he stared at Riezel, a chill of fear creeping unbidden into his heart.
He struggled, hesitated, wavered—perhaps out of unwillingness or shame.
Seeing Hendrick like this, even Rohm, who was too wounded to move, remained silent.
Florent and Ferras, too, were struck speechless.
Needless to say, the situation had clearly spiraled beyond their control.
They were shaken by what Riezel had just revealed, yet knew they could no longer intervene, so they too fell into silence.
At this moment, the only sounds left in the throne room were the pained groans of the injured knights and court magicians, their voices gradually rising until the room was filled with chaotic murmurs.
At last, Hendrick slumped in defeat.
"Everyone… leave..."
He sounded utterly exhausted as he waved a weary hand at those present.
Seeing this, the others exchanged uneasy glances, but not a single one dared object. Instead, they hurriedly withdrew, dragging their battered bodies as they left the throne room in a haze of fear and confusion.
"Marquis Borley and Marquis Lacremis, you two may leave as well."
Hendrick sighed as he spoke to Florent and Ferras.
""Yes, Your Majesty.""
At Hendrick's command, the two men froze for a moment, then simultaneously bowed to him before turning to depart.
Before leaving, however, they both looked once more at Riezel, as if trying to engrave his face forever in their memories, and only then did they exit the throne room together.
Soon, the vast throne room was left with only five people—Riezel, Yuri, Euryale, Hendrick, and Rohm.
"Your Majesty…"
Rohm pressed a hand to his stomach, pale-faced, and returned to Hendrick's side.
Thanks to Ferras's healing magic, Rohm seemed to have regained a bit of movement—even though the wound on his abdomen had not fully healed, at least it no longer bled.
"Are you all right?"
Hendrick asked softly, to which Rohm shook his head.
"It's nothing serious."
Rohm glanced briefly toward Riezel and Euryale, only to flinch and quickly look away.
Clearly, he too had been frightened by the power the two had displayed.
"Good..."
Seeing his most loyal aide safe eased Hendrick's expression slightly.
Yuri, watching Hendrick, suddenly felt a twinge of pity.
Perhaps Hendrick had never imagined that he would suffer such a crushing humiliation here today.
Riezel, however, felt not a trace of sympathy and simply looked at Hendrick, quietly waiting for his explanation.
Hendrick met Riezel's gaze, but for a long moment, he said nothing—until he finally let out a deep sigh, his expression growing even more weary.
And then...
"Lizbeth is not my daughter..."
Hendrick's dejected confession caused everyone's expression to change in an instant.
""What?""
Riezel and Yuri both stared in shock, their composure shattered.
===
[A bonus chapter for every 500 Power Stones.]
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