The battlefield itself told a story. The destruction here far surpassed even the carnage of the Battle of the Mist.
It was hard to believe this was the result of a single battle—one against one.
The Eight-Limbed Lady was dead. But there was no sign of Aura. No trace of Sansa.
Signs that led most to believe she too had perished in the fight.
But Oliver Khan refused to accept that.
The Great Guardian found himself running across the battlefield, searching desperately.
Under rocks and rubble, above ground and beneath it...
He scoured every inch, the truth sinking in with every step.
What would he do... if she truly was gone?
Sansa Valerion—his only family—whom he had so carelessly cast aside not long ago.
What if she was dead, no longer in this world?
Most wouldn’t care. To them, her death would mean nothing more than the end of another filthy demon—a monster unworthy of living among them.
But was that how Oliver Khan felt?
He dug through the debris, his arms and hands trembling.
Did I ever apologize to her... for treating her like a monster? His crimson eyes shook uncontrollably.
When Alon tried to kill her... what did I do for her?
Nothing at all. He had stood frozen, doing nothing, stunned by her demonic transformation. If not for the prince suggesting her life be spared, Sir Alon might have killed her on the spot.
Was her transformation enough of a reason for him to turn away, to stand idle?
She must have suffered immensely, behind that devilish smile she showed to the world.
Sansa Valerion had endured a lifetime of torment from her demonic power. Her transformation could only have deepened that agony.
She must have suffered in silence, hiding all her pain behind those acts of hers.
She had borne every disgusted gaze—eyes that saw nothing but a beast that deserved death.
And among the countless faces in that crowd, Oliver Khan had been standing at the front, taking his seat among them.
Instead of standing beside her... instead of protecting her... I was the one who hurt her the most.
When pain comes from a stranger, it wounds. But when it comes from someone close, it destroys.
And for Sansa Valerion, Oliver Khan had always been the closest.
The Great Guardian realized this too late—here, on a battlefield that could well be her grave.
From beneath the mask hiding his face... drops began to fall.
Tears Oliver Khan had believed long dried.
"I haven’t told her anything yet... I haven’t atoned for what I did to her!"
Sometimes, realization only comes when it’s already too late.
Oliver Khan couldn’t bear it—couldn’t imagine seeing her lifeless body.
If she died, she would die believing she had been nothing but a burn mark on his heart until the end.
That was a sin the Great Guardian could not carry. So he kept digging, tearing through the ruins, ignoring the soldiers with him who tried to stop him.
"It must be easy for you... to turn your backs and leave, no matter if she’s dead or alive..."
They hadn’t cared about her in the slightest. In fact, they would have preferred her gone—welcomed it.
Truly cruel. Some of those present were the very soldiers who had fought beside her—the same soldiers Sansa had fought the Eight-Limbed Lady to save.
"If Sansa Valerion hadn’t stood her ground here against the Eight-Limbed Lady, then you would have been the ones forced to face that monstrous abomination," Oliver said sharply, his voice carrying a barely contained fury.
Most of those present unconsciously turned their heads toward the gargantuan corpse in the distance...
Had fate dealt them that battle instead, it wasn’t hard to imagine the outcome.
It would have been nothing but a massacre .. a one-sided slaughter.
There wasn’t a single person among them capable of fighting a creature like that.
Instead of one Lord of Nightmare, they would have been facing two... if not for her.
They owed her their lives—yet not a single one of them seemed moved. It was as if she hadn’t chosen to protect them, but had been obligated to. This update is available on ⓝovelFire.net
"She’s a demon. This is the least she can do, considering we allowed her to live within the Empire’s walls."
"We’re human. She’s not. We’re not equals."
"Dying to save us is better for her than living to bring death to everyone around her."
From scattered corners, soldiers muttered, spitting their venom into the air—every word reaching Oliver Khan’s ears.
They truly didn’t care whether she lived or died.
To them, she was nothing more than a cursed demon, no different from the enemy they were fighting.
But they had conveniently forgotten that she had once been just a human girl—flesh and blood like them.
What happened to her could have happened to any one of them.
Sansa hadn’t asked for a demonic seed to be placed inside her body. She hadn’t asked to become a demon. She had been forced into it.
It was a fate any of them could have shared.
And yet, every last citizen of the Empire had been too blind to see this truth.
Looking at them one by one, Oliver finally recognized the poison hidden in their eyes.
’Sansa... did I really look at you with the same poisoned gaze?’
Not long ago, Oliver Khan had possessed those same eyes.
Sansa Valerion had always been a sensitive girl—one gifted with the ability to sense the emotions of others. There was no way she hadn’t noticed.
Which meant... she had gone into that fight believing, to her last breath, that he still carried that poison in his eyes.
That was a cruel truth—and an ending far too unworthy for someone who had suffered for so long.
Now Oliver Khan was left with the certainty that he would carry this guilt for the rest of his life.
Sometimes, realization comes only after it’s too late.
But Oliver was fortunate—Ghost Umbra’s sudden call had given him another chance.
Ghost was one of the few who had actively searched for her alongside him. He knew how much Sansa meant to Frey, regardless of Oliver’s feelings.
And because she, too, was a manipulator of shadows like him, he had been able to pinpoint her location after some effort.
Oliver sprinted without hesitation, treating Ghost’s signal as if it were a sign from the heavens.
He ran like a madman as the assassin led the way—and within moments, they reached her.
Sansa was buried deep underground; the final clash between her and the Eight-Limbed Lady had torn the earth apart, swallowing her whole. But her shadows had shielded her until the very end.
Before Oliver’s eyes, and before all those who had followed...
She sat quietly, encased in a cocoon of black threads that had sprouted from her back ..like a broken butterfly, dark and solitary, yet beautiful and cold.
The cocoon of shadow had crawled over and under the earth, holding it at bay to keep it from collapsing on her.
Her body was riddled with wounds, bleeding black blood that made some recoil in disgust.
But of all those present, Oliver Khan didn’t care in the slightest about the color of her blood. He ran straight to her, clutching her cold body and pulling her into his arms.
As if she had been waiting for that, the cocoon slowly unraveled, letting her fall gently into the arms of the Great Guardian.
Holding her, drenched in her blood, Oliver’s breath caught in horror at the sight of her back ..
There was nothing there but a vast, gaping, blood-filled hole from which the shadows poured.