Dancing on the golden ashes

This time, the man didn't get back up. In fact, I didn't even see where he went. Did Eun-woo slam him straight into the planet's core with that blow? There was nothing left but a fractured battlefield and an echoing silence that swallowed the aftermath.

But that strike—that godlike impact—shifted the entire momentum of the battle. In the distance, the army of one million paused as a wave of unease rippled through their ranks. The earthquake alone had split the earth beneath their feet, and rivers of lava surged across the landscape like veins of fury. For seasoned warriors, it wasn't a real threat—but fear… fear wasn't always rational. It crept in through the cracks.

Suddenly, a new challenger joined the fight.

An individual dressed in what could only be described as a gown of ice rose into the sky. The fabric shimmered with frozen light, wrapping her like a crownless queen of winter. Her long, snow-white hair glowed with a frigid brilliance, and from her presence alone, snow began to fall—cold, delicate flakes drifting gently onto the enemy forces below. The soft touch of winter seemed to shatter their trance, snapping them back into motion. One by one, they took to the sky, howling in rage, charging toward us with renewed fervor.

"I'll take her," Seo-yeon said, her voice calm, void of hesitation. Her black angelic wings spread wide, sending waves of cold wind with every slow, graceful flap. And then—she vanished into the sky like a comet. In her hand, a massive sword of ice had taken form, jagged and refined, as if carved from a glacier with the intent to kill gods.

I had never seen her wield a sword before. Yet, somehow, the image suited her perfectly. She didn't look like a warrior—she looked like an executioner. A fallen angel stripped of mercy, reborn to carry out judgment upon any soul I dared glance at. And I respected her for that. Ever since I met her—even after I destroyed her home—she remained loyal to me without question. A cold constant in my storm of destruction.

But something changed in her after rebirth. Her sadness… it lingered, unspoken. Unexplained.

I think I now understood why.

Something must have happened between her and that fool of mine—my slave, my subordinate. I never noticed it before, but perhaps there was something hidden, something tender that grew quietly behind my back. A forbidden romance that bloomed between the cracks of war. I remembered the day I discovered them together—sleeping in the same bed, their bodies close, hearts even closer. I had torn them apart, not out of anger, but necessity. And now… I couldn't feel the presence of the system within him anymore.

He was gone. Either dead, or corrupted beyond recognition.

And the question clawed at the edges of my mind.

Could I even save him if I tried?

I didn't know. Sometimes, life was like that—merciless and indifferent. We couldn't always hold onto the people we loved. We couldn't always taste the happiness we longed for. And she… she never complained. Never wept in front of me. Never asked for anything.

If I still had emotions, I think I would feel something—perhaps guilt… sorrow… maybe even regret. But now, all I can do is watch, trying to see if my deduction is correct or not.

I watched as Seo-yeon vanished into the blinding storm, racing toward the woman clad in ice. Snow and frost clashed violently, and the two of them disappeared into a burst of white brilliance that blanketed the sky, completely obscuring them from the rest of the battlefield. Their fight was now hidden—sealed within a world of winter born from rage and heartbreak.

"Empress… if you may, may I slaughter all of those filthy people standing in your way?" Min-jeong's voice rang out beside me as she flew to my side.

I turned to look at her—and for a brief moment, I felt caught off guard. Who is this? Her voice was sharp, dangerously smooth, and brimming with bloodlust. She didn't sound like the innocent, nervous girl I once knew.

"I've told you many times now… just call me Gaon. Or sister. I don't want you to call me Empress." My tone was cold, casual, but I knew she wouldn't listen.

"Yes, your majesty. I will not call you Empress," she replied with a wicked smile.

"...That's the same thing." I sighed. "I give up. Call me whatever you want."

Her eyes gleamed—wide, feral, and far too eager. That girl I knew… she's gone, isn't she? But maybe she had always been this way, hiding the madness behind innocence. Maybe death didn't change her… maybe it just unchained her.

She had always been timid, hesitant. She never believed in herself, always searching for the simplest escape from hardship. But now—now she was wild. Unbound. A manic grin spread across her face as her body erupted with twisted, writhing vines, bursting forth like a beast finally set free.

The vines slammed into the broken earth below—cracked and cratered from Eun-woo's earlier assault—and spread like wildfire. Thorn-covered tendrils, twisted trees, and grotesque, poisonous flora erupted from the ground in every direction. It was a forest of death born from her will alone. They surged toward the enemies below like a living army, wrapping around their legs and pulling them down from the sky with terrifying speed.

Those foolish enough to hesitate met a swift, brutal end. Within moments, at least fifty thousand soldiers were yanked from the air, crushed beneath monstrous roots and swallowed by the earth, never to be seen again. The screams of the damned echoed faintly beneath the chaos.

Terrifying... that power isn't just overwhelming—it's merciless.

And the fools who still dared to rush toward her were even more pathetic.

Not only did she control the battlefield below—vines burst from her very body, curling and spreading outward in every direction. The sky became an extension of her dominion, as if the heavens themselves were her garden. Thorned tendrils lashed out with brutal precision, piercing through enemies the moment they drew within five kilometers of us. Their bodies fell like rain—lifeless, impaled before they could even lift a weapon.

She danced amidst the chaos, a gothic flower blooming in a field of blood.

She was no longer the girl hiding behind others. She was now a demon queen of thorns, and this battlefield... was her twisted playground.

Only the three of us remained standing—me, Malrang, and Jieun—side by side while the world erupted into chaos around us. My beasts and the rest of the demon legion had already surged forward into the battlefield, joining Min-jeong and Eun-woo, who were like war machines unleashed upon the earth. A storm of vines and suns now tore through the enemy lines like divine punishment.

I glanced to my left.

"You've grown up, Jieun," I said casually, eyes drifting over her features.

She was no longer the little girl I remembered—the bright-eyed nine-year-old who once clung to hope and fear in equal measure. Now, she appeared around twenty, her posture confident, her beauty ethereal, her gaze far more mature than it should have been. Of course… over ten thousand years spent as a soul would age anyone, wouldn't it? She had skipped her entire childhood, matured in solitude, in silence, in void.

The day she would shine had finally come. I had known it all along. Even back then, when she was just a child, she had shown genius and ruthlessness that no normal nine-year-old should possess. And now…

"Yes, big sister," she answered with a soft smile, her face lighting up when she looked at me. It was the same expression she used to wear, a flicker of the girl she had once been—hidden beneath the weight of millennia.

"This time it's really different, huh…" she murmured under her breath, so quiet I almost missed it.

But I didn't. My hearing had long surpassed human limits.

"What do you mean?" I asked casually, turning to face her more directly.

"Hmm? Ah! Nothing, big sis. I was just talking to myself," she replied with a quick grin, waving her hand as if to dispel the moment.

She's hiding something. Her eyes gave it away. They searched the battlefield not like someone ready to fight, but like someone trying to make sense of a dream. It wasn't the first time she had said something strange. Something that made me wonder if the girl who stood beside me was still the same Jieun… or something far more ancient, far more complex.

But I didn't ask. It doesn't matter anymore.

"Alright…" I let the silence take over. It was awkward, I suppose. But perhaps that was natural. After all, we had just come back from death. Most of us were still adjusting—still finding our place in this world again. It wasn't time for stories or reunions. Not yet.

"Can I join them in battle?" she asked suddenly, her voice trembling slightly, her fingers curling at her sides.

Was she… waiting for my permission?

"Sure," I said, tilting my head. "But be careful not to drag your own into death. Right now, your powers might be even stronger than mine. One careless attack, and you could erase this entire battlefield."

I wasn't exaggerating. I truly believed it.

Her power was something else entirely—a fusion of celestial energy and cosmic force. A divine duality. If she unleashed her full strength, even the stars above would shudder in fear.

She's not a child anymore. She's a weapon forged in silence and sorrow. And now, she chooses where to strike.