A deep sigh escaped the boy’s small lips.
"If we’d talked more with the Master... if there had been more trust between us... maybe things could’ve ended differently. We didn’t even explain anything. We just told him to piss off back to Earth. So of course he left us behind. We called ourselves Master and Heroes, but it was just a surface-level relationship."
Müden’s eyes narrowed.
"You said it felt unfair. That the world forced sacrifice onto the Master... That you and the rest of us weren’t enough... That everything else was... unjust?"
Müden looked at him.
The boy’s sunken eyes glinted with something cold.
Unjust.
Aaron decided to admit it.
"Yes."
"We weren’t gifted. So we fought like hell. We knew that if we lived the same amount of time, we’d never catch up. We gave up everything—happiness, even life as human beings. Do you still remember those countless years you spent soaked in sweat and tears?"
Thousands of days. Tens of thousands of nights.
Aaron had swung his spear until his hands blistered, his shoulders broke, and every muscle in his body tore apart.
Not a single day of rest. Not even a moment’s pause.
And still—still—it wasn’t enough.
He had pushed so hard he forgot himself. But the world had never once rewarded him.
It was unfair.
So unfair it made him want to cry.
Unfair enough to curse the sky.
"Aaron."
His master looked him straight in the eye.
With a warm expression Aaron had never seen before.
"Why do you think we kept swinging that spear, stabbing and thrusting every day?"
"......"
"Every night I regretted it. Wondered why the hell I was pouring blood and sweat into this garbage. Barely got any results. This is all I became after everything I gave. But you know what? If someone like Lidigion had put in the same effort I did? He’d probably be the strongest being in the universe."
Müden pulled the spear from his back.
Its gray blade caught the light and gleamed black.
The weapon’s name was Ruin. One of the Five Divine Weapons—a spear of ash forged from the power of chaos.
"Even so, every morning, I picked up that spear again. Because it pissed me off. Because it was infuriating. I wanted revenge on this world. I wanted to prove something. That I could do it. That it wasn’t over yet."
"...Master."
"Take it."
Aaron instinctively caught what his master threw.
A heavy weight settled on his shoulders.
It was Müden’s spear.
"I—I can’t...!"
"You’ve surpassed me. A weapon should belong to someone who’s worthy of it."
"I’m satisfied with my iron training spear!"
"No. In the battles to come, weapon quality matters. And in those battles... I won’t be there."
"What do you mean? The fighting’s already over..."
"You said you didn’t want it to end, didn’t you?"
Müden spoke.
"Then don’t let it end."
"......"
"When someone tells you to give up—don’t. When they say it’s impossible—don’t stop. If it doesn’t work, keep going until it does. If you fail, keep pushing until you succeed. That’s what true strength is. That’s how miracles happen."
Müden said it to the disciple whose face still carried the hollow look of loss.
"I’m too old for this now. So go save the Master in my place."
"I don’t understand...!"
Ding.
Müden flicked something from his palm.
Aaron reflexively snatched it out of the air.
A small, violet metal badge.
Etched in the center was the emblem of Niflheim.
"Aaron Delkard."
"Master!"
"From now on, Floor 13 of Niflheim—the name of Naidelk is yours. I already told the others. Just show them that badge, and they’ll understand."
Müden turned his back.
Aaron, flustered, reached out to stop him.
"Master, wait—I still...!"
"Don’t touch me. I’m going on vacation for a while. Gonna sunbathe on the Emerald Beach, yeah? Do the hula with some pretty girls. Drink martinis. That kind of thing."
Aaron’s eyes widened.
Next to Müden’s lips, under the brim of his newsboy cap, he could see the deep lines of age.
He aged in an instant...
"I’ve lived long enough. The old memories are all hazy now. So do what I can’t. It’s an old master’s final request."
"...Ah."
Müden walked away without hesitation.
Toward the corridor at the end of the hall.
Aaron rushed to follow his retreating back.
"Master, this is too sudden! Leaving like this—it’s not fair! At least tell me a bit more!"
"Don’t cling. It’s annoying."
Müden batted away Aaron’s hand.
His voice no longer belonged to a boy.
"I still need you, Master. If I’m going to save my brother, I want to do it with you—!"
"I’m right here."
A wrinkled hand gripped the shaft of Aaron’s spear.
"I poured my years into this. My vengeance. ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) My bitterness. Everything I am is in that spear."
Vmmm...
As if responding to his words, the spear began to shimmer with residual echoes.
Müden let go of the weapon, leaving Aaron standing there in a daze.
And walked off toward the far end of the corridor.
"Master..."
Aaron looked at the spear in his hand.
A plain, undecorated metallic longspear and the badge of Niflheim.
This was Müden’s legacy to him.
If you don’t want it to end...
Then don’t let it end.
Müden’s voice lingered in his ears.
"I swear on everything I am—when this fight is over, I will come and find you, Master."
Aaron knelt in a deep bow, facing the place Müden had left.
Then rose and gripped Ruin tightly.
"So you planned this from the beginning."
He muttered as he glanced at the black coat draped over the railing.
Tailored perfectly to his frame—it was a special-issue coat for Niflheim executives.
Müden must have left it there secretly.
Aaron slipped the coat over his shoulders.
Naidelk.
The name he would now carry.
Aaron Naidelk.
He would fight on—as a hero of Niflheim.
Aaron began walking in the opposite direction from Müden.
At the end of the corridor was a hangar where the airship was docked.
Müden’s companions had already returned to Niflheim.
He had to rejoin them first.
"......"
Before leaving the hallway, Aaron turned back one last time.
The heroes he had once fought alongside were returning home.
Perhaps his sister was still waiting for him.
Forgive your useless brother...
Pulling the hood low over his head, Aaron stepped out into the corridor.