Chapter 120: The Tales of Cinder [14]
Monar regretted it, from the bottom of his heart. It was a silent, deep pain that needed no words to be felt. Truly, even if he died trying, he wanted his friends to make it out alive.
It was ironic that the only one who hadn’t been "killed" was him.
He lowered his gaze and, in pain, let his first tears fall in a long time. They slid slowly down his cheeks, carrying away dirt, dried blood, and the weight of exhaustion. When they hit the ground, they mixed with the ash and vanished as if they had never existed.
He prayed for this to end, so he simply didn’t move anymore. His muscles, tense for so long, finally gave in to a resigned stillness.
The princess approached him and raised her sword. Her silhouette, illuminated by the faint glow of crystal and drifting embers, seemed even more imposing.
But suddenly, an explosion of ash blasted everything backward.
The impact was violent. The air compressed for an instant before bursting outward, dragging dust, crystal fragments, and chunks of stone with it. A tornado made of dead ash spiraled around the castle—and with it, the battlefield. The particles spun at high speed, forming an opaque wall that blocked the outside world.
She stopped in her tracks.
Her golden eyes turned toward the castle.
Something bad was happening.
It could be felt in the air.
It wasn’t just a presence... it was a constant pressure, a subtle vibration running through everything, as if something were awakening from the deepest depths.
It moved in silence through the ruins. The echo of its steps blended with the gritty roar of the tornado, creating an uneven rhythm that broke the stillness.
At first, it dragged itself.
Then it crawled weakly, leaving marks on the dust-covered ground.
Finally, it rose to its knees as the ash sealed its wounds. The particles clung to its skin, compacting, closing open flesh as if they were alive.
One knee came forward.
And when it managed to stand...
A deep pulse of energy scattered the tornado.
The wind cut off instantly. The ash particles froze in midair for a brief moment before being flung outward.
Among the rubble and shattered walls, the ash surged forward, breaking everything in its path, pushing aside stone and crystal like dry leaves, forming a flat path toward the arena.
Monar felt a chill.
Even though he couldn’t see, he could still feel the violent energy shaking the air around him. It was like thousands of tiny currents clashing against each other.
"Mitsuki..."
He recognized him instantly.
The crystal to the side cracked.
First, a faint sound... a small fracture.
Then another.
And another.
Until it finally shattered, exploding into countless fragments that fell to the ground with a prolonged chime.
On the other side, a long bridge made of compacted ash and massive debris stretched forward, connecting the throne room directly to them. The structure looked unstable, yet it held firm, as if an invisible will sustained it.
On that bridge, Mitsuki Kirishima walked calmly...
While limping.
Each step left a faint mark on the gray surface, as if the ash responded to his presence.
Blood stained his body—dry in some places, fresh in others—but dark ash covered the horrific wounds. It shifted slowly, as if it were breathing.
His ribs were no longer exposed.
The missing arm had been replaced by a strange prosthetic made of ash—an unstable yet functional shape that mimicked a real arm.
And his entire torso had turned gray, composed of that cursed dust, hardening in some areas and dispersing in others.
The princess looked surprised...
But deeply confused.
She was heard whispering, "Morgan?" as if searching for an answer in the past.
Mitsuki felt strange.
As if he were dreaming.
There was no pain.
No disappointment.
No defeat.
Only that deep sense of emptiness squeezing his heart, like a void that could never be filled.
’Limit Break... I’ve seen this in a few RPGs. I know exactly what I have to do.’
His mind was clear.
Too clear.
He looked toward the end of the path, where Monar stood before the princess. Both were equally confused, but the princess showed a hint of concern, taking a step back and pointing her sword at him.
Mitsuki stopped before entering the arena.
The ground beneath his feet trembled faintly.
His mind felt unnaturally light. I mean... why would he be worried if he was already dead?
His faint voice reached the elf.
"I can’t do this alone, Monar. I need you to help us one last time."
The dark elf, upon hearing that voice, smiled with a broken laugh—a weak sound, filled with emotion.
It took him a moment to respond.
But his relaxed, friendly voice delivered the right words.
"Of course, my friend."
Then Mitsuki moved forward.
The air seemed to part before him.
He looked at the system screen—something rather curious appeared.
[ Physical State: Critical. ]
He was dying.
But it didn’t feel that way.
If anything, it felt like he was being born again from blood and misery, as if that broken body were only the beginning of something else.
As for the princess, she remained cautious.
She stepped back.
There was something wrong with Mitsuki.
His body was that of a corpse...
But his presence...
That of a fallen king.
The ash obeyed him with terrifying coldness, dragging itself around him as if it were an extension of his body, rising and falling in irregular patterns.
Soon, he stood before the princess, protecting his friend Monar.
"Princess Guinevere Cinderella..." Mitsuki whispered, almost devoid of emotion.
"False hero..."
They locked eyes for a brief moment.
Time itself seemed to stop.
Monar dragged his hand across the ground until he grabbed Marco’s sword. The metal was cold, coated in ash.
He extended his arm...
And with a single slash...
He cut off his left hand from the middle of the forearm.
The severed limb fell to the ground with a wet, heavy sound, right before Marco’s half-dead eyes, igniting the crimson magic circle of that demon.
"One last time... Grant us your power... one last time..."
Those demonic arms, invisible to all, embraced Monar. They wrapped around his body like living roots.
And that primordial being answered him:
"You have no idea how eager I am to see how this ends."
The hand exploded into blood and crushed flesh.
The magic circle began to glow intensely, casting violent shadows across the ground.
Branches and roots burst from the earth a moment later, spreading through the crystal, lifting it, shattering it, and bringing with them the presence of the Lord of Green.
A greenish light covered the bodies of Azel and Marco.
It was warm.
Comforting.
Their wounds began to close, flesh regenerating slowly, bones settling back into place.
Azel awoke with a sharp gasp.
Air rushed into his lungs.
He pressed his palms against the ground and spat out all the blood that had filled his lungs, coughing violently.
Marco’s case was more complicated.
The sword was still embedded in the ground through his torso.
However...
Mitsuki, without taking his eyes off the princess, summoned his shotgun wrapped in ash particles. They swirled around the weapon like a contained storm.
He aimed at the crystal sword lodged in the ground...
And fired.
The detonation shattered the air.
The sword dissolved into crystal particles that scattered like shining dust.
And Marco was able to rise weakly.
"I’ve noticed you always let us recover when you think the fight can go on," Mitsuki said. "That leaves me with two thoughts: you’re very kind and give your enemies a chance to fight for their lives... or you’re an arrogant idiot who thinks we’re too weak to be worth it."
The princess frowned.
But didn’t respond.
Mitsuki sighed.
[ The skill "Charisma Lv. 1" has been activated. ]
"I know we’re weak, and that individually we wouldn’t stand a chance against you—but we’re together. They’re with me."
Monar raised his eyebrows, surprised.
The same went for Marco.
And yet...
He smiled faintly.
"Now we are one, and we want to live. But you’re standing in the way of that desire."
Marco stood up and grabbed his sword.
His hands still trembled, but his grip was firm.
He turned his back to Monar and walked toward Mitsuki.
Meanwhile, Azel gathered what little blood he had left and formed another arrow. His breathing was heavy, but his eyes were focused.
"That’s why we’re going to defeat you and kill you. It doesn’t matter if my body is destroyed or if my mind breaks. I’ve already decided to leave behind everything that makes me human... everything that made me a loser..."
He clenched his fist tightly.
The ash around him reacted.
The system screen displayed...
[ Warning: The skill "Limit Break," when used in your current state, may damage the body, soul, and mind, potentially causing severe mental and physical consequences. ]
[ Even so, do you wish to use this skill? ]
[ Yes ][ No ]
Mitsuki made his choice.
Without hesitation.
Without thinking.
[ Yes ]
And the final phase of this battle for survival began.