Chapter 116: Finally over

Chapter 116: Chapter 116: Finally over

One word. That was all it took before black thorned cage began compressing.

Slowly. Deliberately. Its bars pressed inward, the space inside shrinking with each passing moment. Asmodeus’s soul was forced toward the center, its form flickering as the pressure increased.

His resistance became weaker and his voice faded.

The cage continued shrinking.

Large cage.

Smaller cage.

Tiny cage.

A single point of darkness.

The black point disappeared, collapsing in on itself until there was nothing left—no light, no energy, no trace of the soul that had once been contained within.

There was no explosion.

No dramatic final blast.

Just absence.

Asmodeus was gone.

Not defeated or sealed. Not even imprisoned.

But totally erased.

The battlefield became completely silent.

The blizzard gradually settled, the violent winds dying down to gentle breezes. Snow fell softly through the air, covering the frozen landscape in a blanket of white.

The oppressive presence of Asmodeus disappeared.

Everyone felt it.

The ancient evil that had threatened them—the being that had manipulated the world from the shadows for over thousands of years—was no longer there.

Theon remained standing with NIVARETH in his hand.

His icy blue eyes remained calm.

The silence stretched across the battlefield, absolute and profound. No wind howled. No thunder rumbled. No magic crackled. Just the gentle whisper of falling snow and the ragged breathing of survivors.

Lyra pressed her hand against her chest, her heart pounding so loudly she could hear it in her ears. She looked at Theon, at her brother who had just done the impossible, and felt tears streaming down her face.

Ifrith stood frozen, his ancient eyes fixed on the spot where Asmodeus’s soul had been erased. He had seen many things in his long existence—wars and destruction, death and rebirth, the rise and fall of civilizations. But he had never seen anything like this.

Lazaria fell to her knees, her body trembling with exhaustion and relief. Silver stood beside her, her hand on her shoulder and her face pale with shock.

Seraphina stared at Theon, her eyes wide, her lips parted. She had known he was powerful and had believed in his potential. But this—this was beyond anything she could have imagined.

Theon lowered NIVARETH.

The sword’s frost slowly receded, its aura fading as the connection between wielder and weapon returned to something approaching normal. The icy blue in Theon’s eyes began to fade, replaced by the warm brown that Lyra remembered.

The battle was over and Asmodeus was finally gone.

The battlefield had finally gone quiet.

Destruction stretched in every direction, a testament to the fury that had consumed this place. Broken trees lay scattered like fallen soldiers, their trunks splintered and charred. Stones that had once formed ancient formations now rested as rubble across the cracked earth. The ground itself bore the scars of battle—deep fissures running through the soil like wounds that would never fully heal.

The air still hummed with residual mana, thick and oppressive, clinging to everything like a shroud. Yet the terrifying presence that had dominated the battlefield—the ancient evil that had threatened to consume them all—was gone.

Theon stood at the center of it all.

His breathing came in shallow, ragged gasps. His chest rose and fell with visible effort, each breath a struggle against the weight of exhaustion that pressed down on him. His entire body trembled, muscles twitching with the aftershock of channeling power far beyond what any mortal should have been able to contain.

Slowly, his hands moved toward NIVARETH.

The ancient Eternal Frostblade remained in his grasp, its surface still cold despite the warmth of his palm. Frost clung to the blade, thin wisps of vapor rising into the air like spirits departing a fallen warrior. Theon stared at it for a long moment, his reflection visible in its crystalline surface—a face he barely recognized, marked by blood and exhaustion and something else. Something colder.

Then, with the little strength he had left, he lowered the blade.

Click.

NIVARETH slid into its sheath.

The sound was quiet, almost insignificant against the vast silence of the ruined forest. Yet it carried weight—the final punctuation mark on a battle that had pushed him beyond every limit he had ever known.

The moment the sword was secured, the exhaustion hit him harder.

His body was destroyed.

Blood flowed freely from a gash across his forehead, tracing a path down his face before dripping onto the frozen ground below. His arms were covered in wounds—cuts and gashes and burns that painted a portrait of violence across his skin. His legs trembled beneath him, barely holding his weight, threatening to give out with every passing second. His back felt torn apart, the muscles screaming in protest with even the slightest movement.

There was blood everywhere.

His clothes hung in tatters, barely recognizable as the garments he had worn into battle. His body was a canvas of suffering, every inch marked by the price he had paid for victory.

Yet somehow, he was still standing.

Theon slowly lifted his head.

His vision blurred at the edges, darkness creeping in like a tide threatening to pull him under. He blinked, forcing himself to focus, and looked around the battlefield then he saw Ifrith.

The Dark One stood some distance away, his form flickering with residual flames that had yet to fully die. His expression was unreadable—something between awe and concern, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he had witnessed.

He saw Lazaria.

She was on her knees, her body trembling, her face pale with exhaustion and relief. She had survived. They all had.

He saw Silver as she stood with her hands on Lazaria’s shoulder. Her face was grim, marked by the weight of everything they had endured, but there was something else there too. Something that might have been respect.

He saw Seraphina.

She stood apart from the others, her silver hair disheveled, her robes torn and bloodied. Her eyes were fixed on him with an intensity that made him feel exposed, as if she could see straight through to the core of what he had become.

And finally—

He saw Lyra.

His sister stood still at the edge of the battlefield, her face streaked with tears, her hands pressed against her chest as if trying to hold herself together. She was looking at him with an expression that held everything—relief and fear and love and desperation all tangled together in a way that only family could understand.

Everyone was still there.

They had survived and the enemy was gone.

Asmodeus finally had been destroyed and the battle was over.

At least...

That was what Theon believed.

His breathing became slower, the frantic pace of combat gradually giving way to something calmer. His shoulders dropped, the tension that had coiled through his body for so long finally beginning to release.

His eyes moved toward the battlefield one last time.

The destruction was enormous. Trees had been uprooted, stones had been shattered, the very earth had been torn apart by forces that defied comprehension. But there was no enemy left standing. No attack was coming. No one was chasing them and no one was threatening Lyra anymore.

Theon swallowed.

His voice was barely audible, a whisper that almost disappeared into the quiet of the ruined forest.

"It’s over."

For a moment—just a moment—Theon truly believed it.

That it was over and that he had survived and protected everyone and had defeated Asmodeus.

He could finally rest.

His body desperately wanted to collapse. His legs felt like they could give out at any moment, his muscles screaming for release, his mind begging for the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness. But he remained standing, held upright by nothing more than sheer willpower and the refusal to fall while others were watching.

The battlefield was silent.

Only the faint sound of his breathing could be heard—ragged and uneven, a testament to the toll the battle had taken on him.

In that brief moment, there was nothing else.

No fighting.

No screaming.

No explosions.

Just silence.

Quiet aftermath.

Then—

ROOOOOOOOOAAAAAAR!

A roar tore through the forest like a blade through silk.

The entire environment shook. Trees that had somehow survived the battle trembled, their remaining leaves quaking with terror. The ground vibrated beneath Theon’s feet, the vibrations traveling up through his exhausted legs and into his spine. Birds that had somehow remained in the area took flight in a panicked rush, their wings beating frantically against the suddenly heavy air.

Theon froze.

His expression changed instantly—the calm of victory replaced by something far more alert. The exhaustion that had been weighing him down seemed to disappear beneath a surge of adrenaline, his body responding to the threat before his mind could fully process what was happening.

His head slowly turned.

"What..."

The sound continued to echo through the forest, bouncing off trees and stones, reverberating through the very fabric of reality. It was not a natural sound—not the cry of any beast Theon had ever encountered. It was Something far more dangerous.

The trees trembled and the ground shook.

Theon looked around, his eyes searching desperately through the suddenly unfamiliar landscape. But he couldn’t see anything. The fog had become incredibly thick, rolling in from every direction like a tide of white-gray mist that swallowed everything in its path.

His vision became limited.

Even with his enhanced senses, seeing through the fog was difficult. It clung to everything, obscuring shapes and distances, turning the familiar into something alien and threatening.

Then Theon felt it.

Mana.

An overwhelming amount of mana.

His expression became serious, the blood draining from his already pale face. The mana in the air was so dense that it felt almost impossible to breathe, pressing against his lungs with every inhalation. It was ancient, primordial—the kind of power that predated humanity itself.

This wasn’t normal and it wasn’t the aftermath of their battle.

Something else was here that was far more ancient.

Theon slowly looked toward the surrounding forest, his mind racing to put the pieces together. The strange forest. The overwhelming mana. The enormous fog. The ancient feeling that had been surrounding them since they arrived.

Then realization struck him like a physical blow.

They weren’t simply somewhere inside the academy’s forest.

They were inside the...

ANCIENT...