I was standing on a sea of broken glass.
No—Not glass.
The ground had been melted and reforged too many times to count, layered with crystallized mana, scorched earth, and the residue of a hundred ultimate techniques colliding. The sky above me wasn't red because of sunset. It was red because the clouds themselves were burning, torn open by overflowing demonic energy that refused to fade.
Every breath scraped my lungs raw.
My right arm hung uselessly, bones shattered, skin split open to the elbow. My left hand still clutched my spear, though I couldn't remember when my fingers had gone numb.
Across from me, he stood.
Demon King Xaldreth.
His massive body was half-destroyed. Black blood dripped from deep wounds, sizzling as it touched the ruined ground. One horn had snapped off. One wing dragged behind him, shredded beyond repair. His chest had a hole clean through it.
My last strike.
And still…
He was standing.
So was I.
Barely.
"You're still breathing?" Xaldreth said, his voice low, amused, and terrifyingly calm. "You humans really don't know when to die."
I tried to answer.
Blood spilled out instead.
My vision blurred at the edges. The world pulsed with each heartbeat. Somewhere far away, I could hear echoes of a battlefield that no longer existed.
Everyone was dead.
Every ally.
Every city I failed to reach in time.
Every promise I couldn't keep.
I took a step forward.
My leg buckled.
I caught myself with my spear, forcing my body upright through nothing but stubborn refusal to fall.
'Stand up, Daniel.'
'You don't get to lie down yet.'
I pushed mana into my broken body.
Pain exploded.
Muscles tore.
Bones ground against each other.
But my aura still flared—scarlet and gold, violent and unstable, twisting around me like a storm trying to devour itself.
Xaldreth narrowed his eyes.
"You've surpassed humanity," he admitted. "Self-created martial arts. Transcendent physique. Light & Fire Affinities."
He lifted his ruined arm.
"And yet… you're still human."
Darkness condensed around his palm, dense enough to bend the air.
I tightened my grip on my spear.
'One more strike.'
That was all I needed.
Just one.
I gathered everything I had left.
Every ounce of mana.
Every fragment of will.
Every memory of my master's wrinkled smile in that dungeon cave.
Every scream I failed to answer.
Every grave I walked past.
My aura collapsed inward, compressing into a blinding point at the tip of my spear.
"Final Form," I whispered.
My voice barely came out.
"Sun-Piercing Heaven Breaker."
The world went white.
I moved.
For a fraction of a second, I felt it.
Victory.
The spear pierced straight through Xaldreth's heart.
Light erupted.
His eyes widened.
Then his mouth curved upward.
"…So close."
Something slammed into my back.
I didn't feel the pain at first.
Only the sudden absence of strength.
I looked down.
A blade of condensed demonic darkness had pierced through my chest from behind.
My spear slipped from my fingers.
Xaldreth staggered backward, coughing black blood, still somehow alive.
There was no ambush.
No hidden enemy.
No second Demon Lord.
It was him.
Even at death's door, he had outplayed me.
My legs finally gave out.
I dropped to my knees.
Then forward.
The ground felt strangely warm.
My vision dimmed.
I couldn't feel my limbs anymore.
So this was it.
Defeated.
Not by an army.
Not by a god.
But by Demon King Xaldreth alone.
The one monster I never managed to surpass.
Regret flooded my chest harder than the wound.
'I was too slow.'
'I miscalculated.'
'I thought I still had one more move.'
Faces flashed in my mind.
My master, dying in that dungeon.
The cities I couldn't evacuate.
The academy students, who became my friends and followed me into hell and never came back.
The noble retainers who trusted me because of my name.
Because I was Daniel Mangrave.
High-born noble.
Genius martial artist.
Humanity's last spear.
I laughed weakly.
So this was the end.
What a joke.
I had all the power in the world.
And still lost everything that mattered.
My vision narrowed into a tunnel.
Xaldreth's silhouette blurred.
The red sky darkened.
'I'm sorry,' I thought.
To everyone.
To myself.
Darkness swallowed me.
—
I jolted awake.
Air rushed violently into my lungs.
My body convulsed like it had been dragged back from the bottom of the ocean.
"Brother!"
A small hand grabbed my shoulder and shook me.
"Brother! Wake up!"
I gasped and shot upright, heart hammering like it was trying to escape my ribs.
Light stabbed into my eyes.
White ceiling.
Curtains.
A familiar old wooden bed.
The smell of high grade medicine and alcohol.
My room.
My old room.
I stared at my hands.
Small.
Thin.
No scars.
No calluses.
No broken bones.
I touched my chest.
No hole.
No blood.
No pain.
Just a weak, untrained body trembling from panic.
"What…?"
My voice cracked.
The girl beside my bed leaned closer.
Messy red hair tied into uneven pigtails. Big watery eyes. A nightdress with cartoon bears.
My sister.
Seven years old.
Alive.
"…Sera?" I whispered.
She puffed her cheeks.
"You were making scary faces in your sleep again. You promised you wouldn't scare me."
I stared at her.
My throat tightened.
My vision blurred.
Not from injury.
From something far worse.
Impossible.
I reached out and touched her hair.
She flinched.
"W-What are you doing?!"
"You're warm," I whispered.
She hit my arm lightly.
"Of course I am! I'm alive!"
My entire body started shaking.
I looked around the room.
The cracked wall near the window.
The expensive desk.
The dumbbell set I never used.
The calendar on the wall.
Year: 20XX
The date.
My breath caught.
Fifteen years old.
The day of awakening.
Before the war.
Before my master's sacrificed.
Before everything went wrong.
"No way…" I muttered.
My sister tilted her head.
"Did you finally break your brain from being lazy all day?"
I laughed.
It came out broken.
Unstable.
Almost hysterical.
I grabbed my face with both hands.
'This isn't a dream.'
The mana around me was thin.
Weak.
The world felt… early.
Unscarred.
Unburned.
I had died.
I was certain of it.
And yet—
I was back.
Back in this useless, overweight, trash body.
Back before my awakening.
Back before my class.
Back before my rise.
Back before my fall.
My chest tightened.
"…So this is called regression."
My first time.
And hopefully my last.
My sister poked my cheek.
"Brother… are you okay?"
I looked at her.
Really looked at her.
Alive.
Unhurt.
Smiling.
"…Yeah," I said hoarsely.
"I'm fine."
My fists clenched under the blanket.
This time…
I wouldn't be late.
I wouldn't hesitate.
I wouldn't lose.
Not again.
Not to Xaldreth.
Not to anyone.
Outside my window, the world continued peacefully.
Unaware that it had just been given one more chance.
And so had I.