A world was dying around him.
High above the dark expanse, purple lightning danced wildly across a sky fractured by massive, spiderwebbing cracks. The very foundation of the inner world trembled as if on the brink of complete destruction. Yet Albion could only stare paralyzed at the towering figure before him.
Reiga, the black dragon, lay collapsed upon the liquid floor. Deep bite marks, severe gashes, and heavy, dark blood coated his massive black scales. Across his flank, sections of his physical form were already dissolving into floating, brilliant particles of light, drifting upward into the storm.
Albion stared with a shocked, trembling expression. "What...? What is happening? Why?"
He glanced around the crumbling realm, watching the sky fracture further, before his gaze snapped back to the dying dragon.
"Why? Why... Why is this happening?!"
Albion's legs gave out, and he fell onto his knees in the black water.
He possessed an almost otherworldly beauty, one that blended youthful innocence with an unsettling sense of depth. His features were soft and delicate, carrying a natural cuteness that many would find endearing, yet there was something about him that felt strangely beyond ordinary, the kind of beauty that lingered in one's memory long after looking away.
His most striking feature was undoubtedly his eyes. They were a vivid fuchsia, a rare reddish-pink hue that stood out sharply against the rest of his appearance. Beneath their beauty lay an unnatural sharpness, as though his gaze saw far more than someone his age should.
His skin was clear and fair, free of blemishes, scars, or imperfections. Combined with his youthful features, it gave him an almost untouched and fragile appearance, as though the hardships of the world should never have reached him.
Silky black hair fell naturally around his face and neck, longer than most boys his age, extending just past his ears and brushing lightly against the nape of his neck while stopping well short of his shoulders. It lacked any deliberate styling, framing his face softly and drawing attention toward his vivid eyes.
Under the flickering purple light, his dark hair carried a subtle sheen, enhancing the contrast between his gentle appearance and the heavy burdens he carried within.
Across the backs of his fingers were black tattooed letters that spelled K I N G. The markings were simple in design yet impossible to overlook, standing in stark contrast to his otherwise fragile look.
"Why did this have to happen?" Albion whispered, his voice cracking as tears well-up in his fuchsia eyes."What am I supposed to do? Did I do something wrong? What could I have done differently? What can I even do right now?"
The relentless mental toll of the battle had finally breached his limits. Just as Amon's mind was breaking apart, Albion's own will was buckling under the weight of grief and helplessness.
Reiga looked down at him weakly, his eyes filled with sadness. "Do not blame yourself, Albion. I told you once, and I will say it again... this is not your fault. Amon, Yang, me... none of this is your responsibility."
Albion didn't seem to process the dragon's words. He merely stared aimlessly into Reiga's eyes because it was the only anchor left in front of him. Deep down, a confusing conflict tore through his heart.
At first, he had felt obligated to save Amon; yet at the same time, he had genuinely wanted to save him. It was a strange mix of both. That had been his sole reason for fighting so hard. But how was he supposed to defeat someone who matched him in every physical capability, who grew alongside him, and with whom he couldn't form an emotional bond? Just what was he supposed to do?
"Just what am I supposed to do?" Albion muttered aloud into the heavy silence. "Do I even want to save Amon anymore? Who else but me could have done this? Who else but me could have kept moving forward? I wanted to keep going as a wizard, but if this continues, nothing will remain. The version of me standing here right now won't be the same me who goes back to the outside world... to the clinic. What am I supposed to do? Either way, I'm stuck with a horrible path... a horrible fate. Nothing I do works! I wanted to change my fate, but in the end... I can't even save someone."
Reiga closed his eyes briefly, letting out a soft, echoing breath.
"That is the thing, Albion," the black dragon whispered softly. "You can only save those who want to be saved. You cannot save everyone, and you cannot expect someone to change who they are. Do you remember what I said before? About the only way to save Amon... being to end him once and for all?"
Albion remained silent, his head bowed.
As the last fractures spread across Reiga's scales, the black dragon's body dissolved rapidly into a brilliant pillar of light.
"Albion... I am thankful for having the opportunity to love you," Reiga's voice echoed one final time, fading into the storm. "Thank you for caring about me, my king."
With those final words, the black dragon vanished entirely.
Albion sat on his knees in absolute silence, staring at the empty space. Moments later, the splash of footsteps echoed behind him. Albion didn't bother fully turning around; he only glanced sideways over his shoulder, his face still frozen in that same pale, traumatized shock.
Amon stood a few paces away, his three red eyes cold and unfeeling. He took in Albion's broken posture and scoffed.
"How pitiful. Another worthless life is gone. I guess that makes both of us."
Worthless. The word hung in the air.
Slowly, the dull shock in Albion's fuchsia eyes twisted. The unnatural sharpness returned, darkening into a ferocious grimace. "Worthless...?" Albion repeated quietly.
In the very next instant, before Amon could even register the movement, Albion exploded forward. A heavy, furious fist smashed directly into Amon's face with terrifying velocity. The force sent Amon flying backward through the air. Mid-flight, Amon flipped twice and planted his feet into the liquid floor, skidding back to regain his balance.
He wiped his jaw, a dark smirk touching his lips. "Fascinating..." he said, finding the sudden burst of violence intriguing. "It won't work, though. Due to this strange growth power we both share—as annoying as it is—it has its handiness. Back in my battle with Juvia and that iron kid, I was pushed to my limits and overwhelmed. But in time, I adapted and grew stronger from it."
To Amon, his own philosophy, his total disregard for bonds and his belief in being the sole king, proved that his mindset was superior.
Then, a drop of blood fell from Amon's nose.
He froze. He raised a finger to his lip, staring at the fresh crimson staining his skin. Amon's mind raced as he scrambled to process what had just happened.
'How...? Unless...' Amon's red eyes narrowed as he looked at Albion. 'All the mental trauma he's suffered since entering this inner world... seeing his friends 'die'... it's taking a physical toll on him. This growth power we share doesn't just trigger from physical injuries—it responds to mental trauma and intense emotional resonance!'
Albion stood a distance away, heaving for air, completely consumed by the storm of grief and rage boiling inside his chest. He was likely completely unaware that his own power was spiking to dangerous heights.
'I see...' Amon concluded, a chilling realization settling in his mind. 'Our emotional states directly dictate our growth spikes. This is no longer a battle of whose ideal is right or who is stronger. It's a battle of who can adapt faster... Growth versus Growth.'
Across the dark sea, Albion lifted his head.
The words he was about to speak made everything he had fought for, everything he had preached, and this entire tragedy feel like a cruel joke. But the soft, compassionate boy who had entered the inner world was no longer there.
"I'm going to kill you," Albion said.
The natural enemies of the divine—the sworn foes of God—had finally awakened, as Albion experienced true, unadulterated murderous intent for the very first time.