The Heavenly Demon can't live a normal life

It was a breathtaking sight.

A figure bathed in pure white radiance descended upon the battlefield, exuding an overwhelming sacred power.

As the stunned onlookers watched in awe, a battalion of troops, led by a knight clad in pristine white armor, charged forward, sweeping across the battlefield like an unrelenting storm.

"Slay the hordes of evil!"

Kwarung!

Rumble!

Hundreds of combatants surged forward, their weapons gleaming with auras of immense power.

At first, the chaotic battlefield blurred the lines between friend and foe. But as they witnessed the white-clad warriors mercilessly cutting down the soldiers of the Kronos Empire, clarity dawned upon them.

No one knew where these warriors had come from.

One thing was certain—they had branded the Kronos Empire as the embodiment of evil, and they showed no hesitation in striking down the empire's massive army of hundreds of thousands.

"Aaargh!"

"Die, you wretched fiends!"

Screams echoed in every direction.

Blades infused with radiant white aura cleaved through the ranks of the Kronos Empire with terrifying ease. Their resistance, belated and disorganized, crumbled before the overwhelming force.

The tide of battle shifted in an instant. The mysterious warriors overwhelmed the enemy ranks as if they were mere insects.

And behind them, a knight in immaculate white strode forward, her voice ringing out like divine judgment.

"Arrogant, greedy souls! I warned you clearly. If you dared to surpass the limits granted to mankind and sought to stain this continent with darkness, we would no longer remain idle. Yet in your boundless ambition, you have seized power that should never be touched—all in your futile quest to conquer the continent!"

Fwoooosh!

A brilliant aura ignited around her, its radiance painting the battlefield in dazzling white.

"In the name of God, I shall deliver judgment upon these wicked hordes!"

Pot—!

Rumble!

Blinding light exploded across the battlefield.

It was a blessing.

Not only did it empower the sacred warriors who followed her, but it also bathed Dmitry's forces and the Cairo Alliance soldiers in its divine embrace. Their wounds mended, their exhaustion vanished, and vitality surged through their bodies.

A miracle.

From the moment she declared war against the Kronos Empire, Chris knew this was an opportunity he could not waste.

"Soldiers! Forward!"

He charged ahead, defining those who wielded this holy power as allies and rallying his forces to crush the Kronos Empire.

From that moment on, a one-sided massacre unfolded.

The Kronos Empire, already struggling against a force of mere one hundred men, stood no chance against Dmitry's reinvigorated soldiers.

But most of all…

The power of the swordsmen who followed the White Knight was simply overwhelming.

***

The Duke of Bamford watched the battlefield unfold before him, his expression twisted in disbelief.

'…What the hell is happening?!'

This war—this entire situation—had taken an unexpected and disastrous turn.

He was aware of the White Knight, but the Kronos Empire had prepared for her. They had mobilized Shefir, a force meant to counter her, yet that plan had collapsed the moment Roman Dmitry intervened.

Even so, the Kronos Empire still possessed overwhelming military strength. They held the advantage in sheer numbers, but the battle had spiraled out of control.

And now, a decision had to be made.

'If this continues, annihilation is inevitable…'

His teeth clenched.

Rage boiled within him, but he was not a foolish commander who would throw away his forces just to protect his pride.

"All troops, retreat! Fall back to the old castle—we will regroup and reassess our strategy!"

Retreat.

A word almost unheard of in the Kronos Empire, a nation that prided itself on relentless conquest. Yet, in this moment, they had no other choice.

The soldiers moved swiftly, retreating from the battlefield.

Their destination—Goseong.

A small but fortified castle.

The Duke believed that if they held their ground there, they could buy enough time until reinforcements from the Kronos Empire arrived.

It was his best decision.

Even if it meant being reprimanded for withdrawing, it was far better than suffering a crushing defeat and losing hundreds of thousands of troops.

However—

The moment he arrived at the castle, his face turned deathly pale.

On the castle wall, fluttering in the wind—

Dmitry's flag.

And beneath it, a lone figure stood, engulfed in flames.

The moment he recognized the burning man, his heart sank.

Felix.

A bitter curse escaped his lips.

"…Damn it."

In that instant, the Duke of Bamford realized—

He had walked straight into a trap.

******

It was the finer details that completed the strategy.

When Roman Dmitry declared that he would defeat the Kronos Empire in direct confrontation, Flora Lawrence added a crucial element.

"Whether we win or lose in a head-on battle, the presence of the ancient castle is vital. If we win, the Kronos Empire will likely use it as their final stronghold. If we lose, they could use it to strike at our rear. Therefore, from this moment on, we must stop handing over food supplies from the castle and instead hide them in the tunnels—places the enemy will never find. Then, when the time is right, we will secure the castle and decide whether to open the gates to attack or block the enemy's escape route entirely."

She believed in Roman Dmitry. However, it was the duty of the staff officers to refine the strategy to perfection, and with unanimous support, Flora Lawrence's plan was put into motion.

But amidst the unfolding battle, an unexpected variable emerged. The Holy Knights.

Even so, now that the Kronos Empire was retreating to Goseong, the troops stationed there remained steadfast in their roles.

Felix raised his staff, his fiery mana surging into the sky.

"Fire Rain!"

Blazing flames poured down like a storm, turning the earth into an infernal sea of fire. The ground rumbled as fire crashed down, swallowing the retreating soldiers of Kronos in waves of scorching heat. Their screams filled the battlefield as bodies twisted in agony, consumed by the merciless blaze.

The front was sealed off by the Phoenix Magicians who had already seized the castle, and the rear was blocked by the soldiers of Dmitry and the Cairo Alliance, led by the Holy Knights. The Kronos Empire was completely trapped.

Had they known the castle had fallen, they would have prepared accordingly. But caught off guard, lacking supplies for a siege, they could do nothing as magic rained down from the castle walls, cutting through their ranks like a scythe through wheat.

Panic spread. Chaos took hold. Soldiers hesitated, their weapons trembling in their grip. The order in their formations crumbled, and with it, any last shred of hope for survival.

"The enemy is cornered!"

"Kill them all!"

Pushed to the edge, the Kronos soldiers fought back, but their blows carried no conviction. They were exhausted, broken, their will to fight shattered beyond repair. It no longer mattered that they numbered in the hundreds of thousands.

The moment fear overtook them, defeat became reality.

"Don't back down! We are Kronos! Kronos will never fall!"

Duke Bamford's voice rang out, but there was no strength behind it. His desperate cries, meant to rally his men, were nothing more than the echoes of a man grasping at a fading dream. His once resolute expression was now twisted with despair. He refused to believe it.

The Kronos Empire—defeated? Impossible. Unthinkable.

But reality was merciless.

Clutching his sword, he fought with all he had, cutting down enemies in a final act of defiance. Blood splattered his armor, his breath came ragged, but he pressed on.

Then, without warning, a sharp whistle cut through the air.

A blind arrow.

It pierced his heart.

His body stiffened, a ragged gasp escaping his lips.

Blood spread across his chest like an inkblot on silk. His vision blurred, darkness creeping in at the edges. His knees buckled, the weight of his defeat pressing down upon him with cruel finality.

As the world around him dimmed, he finally understood.

This war.

The war against Dmitry, which everyone believed would end in certain victory…

Had ended in complete and utter defeat for the Kronos Empire.

******

The outcome of the war was decided in a single moment.

As defeat sank in and their commander fell, screaming in agony, the soldiers of the Kronos Empire abandoned all hope of victory—even though they still vastly outnumbered their enemies.

Chaos followed.

Some fled in all directions, desperate to escape with their lives. Others threw down their weapons and surrendered, acknowledging the inevitable. A few, unwilling to tarnish the pride of the Kronos Empire, fought to the bitter end—only to meet swift, merciless deaths that convinced many of their comrades to choose the first two options.

It was over.

The fierce war that had raged with unimaginable brutality had finally come to an end.

And that end was victory.

The soldiers of Cairo and Dmitry, upon realizing their triumph, erupted into euphoric cries.

"We won!"

"Long live Dmitry!"

"Roman! Roman!"

"Roman! Roman!"

His name echoed across the bloodstained battlefield.

Roman Dmitry.

Victory belonged to him.

Had he not slain Hannibal, cut down the Knights of Kronos, and defeated Shephir, the 8th-circle mage, they would never have stood a chance. Even with the Holy Knights appearing to turn the tide, triumph would have been uncertain.

Yet, despite his absence in this moment of celebration, no one doubted him.

They knew.

The man they followed would return.

The battlefield was filled with deafening cheers, but amidst the celebration, Chris turned away, his eyes locking onto a figure drenched in blood.

A presence that did not belong.

In a place where corpses lay stacked like mountains and rivers of blood painted the land, the pure white knight stood untouched, as if the filth of war could not taint her. She looked nothing like an ordinary human being.

Chris stepped forward, his voice steady.

"Thank you for aiding us. But tell me… where on earth do you come from?"

The pure white knight was an enigma.

He had never heard of a being like her existing anywhere on the Salamander Continent, yet her words suggested she had known of the Kronos Empire long before today.

Nothing about her made sense.

The overwhelming power she wielded, the swordsmen who followed her, the sacred energy they radiated—it was something that could never be concealed.

She turned her gaze to Chris.

She was beautiful.

With flawless white skin and golden hair that danced in the wind, her presence alone was enough to make one question whether she was even human.

Then, she spoke.

"I come from the only human nation in Arcadia, beyond the endless mountains. My name is Isabel, Queen of Luna."

Arcadia.

Luna.

Isabel.

Chris's eyes widened at the unfamiliar names

******

Shefir was dead.

And in his death, a passage was revealed.

When Roman Dmitry stepped into it, he did not find himself amidst the battlefield but at the very edge of the endless mountain range.

His first decision was to return to Dmitry.

Upon his arrival, he confirmed Isabel's existence and the Kronos Empire's defeat through magical communication. Their victory was undeniable. And when Isabel expressed her desire to meet him, they arranged to convene in Kairos.

But before setting foot in Adelian's warp gate, Roman Dmitry had something to confirm first.

He made his way to Dmitry's library.

Inside, buried among the countless tomes, he found an old book—one that documented the lives and movements of historical figures. He flipped through several volumes until certain names caught his eye.

[Maximilian]

A wandering swordsman who shook the Salamander Continent. A five-star aura swordsman who traveled the land, challenging renowned warriors. Eventually, he drew the attention of Emperor Kronos and walked the path of glory. From that moment on, he took the surname Maximilian and swore loyalty to the Kronos Empire as Count Maximilian. Once the highest-ranked warrior in the Kronos rankings, he ultimately faded into obscurity, his end lost to history.

One man.

A figure who once etched his name into history, only to disappear without a trace. The records chronicled how he had lived, his exploits, and his final days.

But Roman Dmitry wasn't just interested in Count Maximilian's rise and fall.

There was something else.

Something far more important.

Because before the world knew him as Count Maximilian, his true name had been documented in an old book.

- Count Maximilian. His real name is Sven.

Sven.

A name Roman Dmitry recognized immediately.

Sven—the shadow that had attacked Dmitry.

Had the book merely mentioned the name Sven, he might have overlooked it. But now, a thread of connection was beginning to form.

And Sven was not the only name buried in history.

[Mystic]

A being shrouded in mystery. He pioneered magic that allowed the manipulation of space and caused great upheaval across the continent. Despite the widespread interest in his work, he vanished without a trace. A mage who once studied alongside him only remembered a single name—Mystic.

[Ellington]

A long time ago, a child was born as the eldest son of the Ellington family in the Kronos Empire. Recognized as a genius by mages across the continent, he awakened to the truth of magic at a young age and played a pivotal role in the magical development of the empire. But like Mystic, he too disappeared. His absence left the Kronos Empire in turmoil. The unexplained 'disappearance of mages' had been a recurring event throughout history, and the lack of any concrete evidence raised questions about whether Ellington had ever existed at all. Eventually, the entire Ellington bloodline vanished from history. His real name remains uncertain, but over time, various names surfaced—Sheroni, Sherpe, and… Shefir.

Mystic and Shefir.

They, too, had been recorded in ancient texts.

The shadows had not simply appeared from nothing.

Those who had once left their mark on history, whose names were worthy of being immortalized in books, still existed—hidden away in the world, living on as shadows for some unknown reason.

And that was not the end of it.

Roman Dmitry had seen Shefir's memories.

He had come across four names.

And the last name—

The last name shook him to his very core.

Because this name was not hidden in some obscure, forgotten tome.

It was written proudly, from the very first page, in the most revered book in existence.

[Emperor Alexander]

The Founder of Aura.

That was the final name Roman Dmitry had been searching for.

******

At that moment—

Flash.

Emperor Kronos's eyes snapped open.

His body stirred, consciousness returning as a sharp, searing pain surged through him. A deep frown formed on his face as he struggled against the sensation.

"…Is there anyone there?"

His voice was dry, cracked, barely above a whisper—yet filled with unmistakable authority.

No response came.

His irritation flared.

"I asked if anyone was there!"

The weak state of his body was undeniable, but his eyes—

Those eyes gleamed with a piercing intelligence, sharper and more aware than ever before.