Could I be forgiven?

Yelena never answered that question herself—because she knew all too well that she couldn’t be forgiven.

Shrrk.

Lutan’s sword had certainly pierced her abdomen. But it hadn't run her through. The moment it tore her skin, Yelena grabbed a mana arrow with her hand and shifted the sword’s path just enough.

“Not yet.”

A faltering step—

Yet Yelena didn’t fall. She charged straight at Lutan.

“I have something to tell Clay… something you said.”

Her emerald eyes gleamed.

And then, above her head, a number appeared:

728 years.

Her remaining lifespan.

727… 726… 725…

“I will show you the grandeur of time you’ll never reach.”

Light and shadow. Day and night. Every rhythm born of contrast—

That was time.

The Passage Of Time

Sunshine and shade, the passing of hours—those made up the seasons of the world.

Whirrr…!

Granted only to the leader of the elves by the World Tree—a fixed natural lifespan.

By burning away that lifespan, Yelena could convert it into overwhelming force. That was her final and ultimate technique.

“Spear!”

Her body became the bow and the string. Mana arrows traced from her forearm to her knuckles, and the moment she curled her fist inward like a trigger—

BOOM!

A roaring shot flew out.

Lutan blocked it with his sword.

“…!”

His eyes widened. Unable to withstand the impact, he was sent skidding through the air.

Snap!

As distance opened, Yelena flicked her index and middle fingers like a trigger again.

Lutan instinctively turned. Surrounding him were now autonomous mana bows—firing without archers.

Thud!

He thrust his foot to the ground and steadied himself, then swept his sword in an arc. A strong surge of lightning burst from the blade and intercepted the incoming arrows.

“Can you block this too?”

No time to rest.

Yelena reached Lutan in a blink and raised both arms forward—mana arrows blazing like twin cannons from her wrists.

KA-BOOM!

The barrage collided with Lutan’s lightning midair, kicking up a thick cloud of dust. Nearby knights and soldiers shielded their eyes from the shockwave.

“What kind of madness is this…?”

Even the knights who led Krata’s archers were speechless in awe.

A ranged fighter like that—

I've never seen it.

That's insane.

Absolute mastery.

Elves, after all, had greater mana affinity than humans. But they were typically less precise in controlling it. That was why elves often preferred raw mana force over refined spellwork.

And yet she…

She’s applying that finesse in close quarters—

No wonder she was in the Hero’s party.

Using her most familiar talents in unorthodox range, Yelena adapted in real time to unleash deadly, rapid assaults.

BOOM! BOOM!

A tempest of lightning and mana raged as she and Lutan clashed head-on. The surrounding soldiers hesitated to intervene—they couldn’t find an opening in that violent storm.

“At this rate, we can’t even—!”

Though briefly stunned, they were still Krata’s guards. They had to protect Lutan.

“Move! Everyone, go!”

“Protect His Majesty!”

“Kill the intruder!”

Shouts erupted from every direction. Yelena turned slightly, glancing at their movements.

“Where do you think you’re looking?”

Lutan pressed his attack without pause.

“You can’t even handle me alone.”

He wasn’t wrong. Yelena winced, blood running down her side.

“Why… are you like this?”

She demanded.

“Tell me clearly—why did Clay have to die?”

She knew Elhaen was involved. Lutan had implied as much. But what exactly Elhaen was planning, and how deeply Lutan was tied into it, remained unknown.

“If you want answers—then get them yourself.”

Lutan swung his blade with force.

“If you can.”

CRACK-KRAK!

Lightning surged from his blade and blasted Yelena backward.

654… 653… 652…

She was literally consuming her life to stave off death—and yet the despair gnawing at her was something else entirely:

It’s not enough.

Even sacrificing her years, it wasn’t enough to defeat him.

Then—

She clenched her teeth.

“I’ll drag you down with me if I must.”

100 years.

She wagered a full century of her life in one blow.

KA-THOOOOOM!

A massive mana bow appeared overhead, loosing a colossal arrow vertically—crashing down on Lutan.

“GAAAH!”

The explosion sent knights and soldiers flying. But Lutan emerged, virtually unharmed, walking through layers of lightning that had shielded him.

200 years.

Two bows now faced each other on his left and right, firing at each other—intending to meet and crush him between them.

SCREEEEEEEE—!

The arrows struck both ends of Lutan’s sideways-held blade. They pushed, seeking to shatter the sword.

But they failed. Sparks flew—but the blade held.

Instead, lightning condensed and melted the arrows mid-flight.

“Is that all?”

Lutan sneered—

And Yelena burst forward.

Every remaining year of her life—save for a single day—was burned in an instant.

“AaaaAAAAAAHHH!”

If she lost here, she would die anyway.

She threw herself at him—body condensed like an arrow, her final gamble to land a fatal strike.

BOOOOOOOM!

Their bodies collided like meteors.

“…Truly befitting the so-called strongest archer.”

Grimacing, Lutan looked into her eyes. Yelena’s fingers had pierced under his collarbone.

“But will that be enough?”

Shudder…

Her body trembled violently.

“This time, it’s embedded properly—”

Lutan's sword had pierced straight through her abdomen.

“Kh… guh.”

Yelena barely held onto her fading vision, her lips twitching faintly. Blood dripped from her mouth—the backlash of her reckless final attack.

Silence.

The knights and soldiers of Krata, who had just begun to rise to their feet, stood frozen as they watched.

Step…

Though everything was clearly over, Yelena still tried to take a step forward, forcing strength into her legs.

“It’s meaningless now.”

Lutan grabbed her hand, the one still lodged beneath his collarbone.

“The one leaving the stage first… is not I, but you.”

He pried her hand free and gave a crooked smile.

“As it should be.”

CRACK!

A blast of lightning burst from Lutan’s sword.

Yelena, unable to dodge, was struck point-blank. It was divine judgment—a calamity with no escape.

She collapsed without even the chance to scream.

“A pitiful end.”

Lutan muttered, pulling his sword free from her body as he looked down at her fallen form.

“Clean this up.”

Those who had come rushing to protect their emperor were now left only with the duty of clearing the aftermath of his battle.

“……”

Wordless, they slowly approached Yelena.

She had once fought alongside Hero Clay to defeat the Demon King. Now she lay there like ash after the fire, a fallen ember of her former self.

The sight alone made them hesitate for a moment.

But they could not disobey the emperor. So, with their eyes squeezed shut, they moved to carry out his command—

WHOOSH.

A burst of light enveloped Yelena’s body.

“Huh?”

And she vanished.

The startled clamor of the soldiers rang out, but Lutan merely looked down at the place where Yelena had been.

“So… a miracle still remained to be used.”

He let out a hollow laugh.

“Perhaps it’s time I meet you again… Yggsilrad.”

Murmuring the name of the World Tree, Lutan turned and walked away, his aged body moving slowly but firmly.

♧

A Lantern of Life.

Yelena was watching her own life flash before her eyes.

—“What does it feel like to live for a really long time?”

Clay had once asked her that.

Back when she’d lived for over a thousand years, so long she couldn’t even recall her own age. She had grown numb to the passing of time. And then he came—his eyes full of curiosity.

—“I’m not sure.”

She hadn’t reacted much. He had only told her to treat him comfortably, since she was the party leader—but to ask such a bold question? It had baffled her.

Of course, now she understood. That was how he tried to get close to her. He had wanted to bridge the vast chasm of time between them, even if it meant being a little rude.

“Ha… hah…”

She opened her eyes and found herself collapsed on the ground. Slowly, she looked around.

Lutan was nowhere in sight. Nor was anyone from Krata.

It was a different place.

She couldn’t tell exactly what had happened, but she knew one thing for sure—Yggsilrad, the World Tree, had intervened. Its lingering power still clung to her body.

She tried to rise, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. She could feel it—her time was nearly gone.

So she crawled.

Thankfully, she still had the strength to move.

“Hah… huff…”

With shallow breath and blurred vision, she dragged herself down an unseen path. Something wet—whether tears or blood—blurred her eyes further.

—“Aren’t you afraid of dying, Yelena?”

Clay had once asked her why she joined the party.

—“You could’ve just stayed put and lived longer. It would’ve been safer, too.”

It had been an ironic question. After all, it was Clay himself who had saved the elves from the demons' onslaught.

Just because elves had long lifespans didn’t mean they’d live long. And peace… was a luxury even more elusive.

—“Still, I just… wanted you to live a long life, Yelena.”

He had said that—with such a foolish, sincere smile.

It had made her laugh.

—“So you can laugh after all.”

She hadn’t known. Not until he showed her.

Before Clay, she hadn't understood emotions. Whether she'd simply become dull with age or never possessed them to begin with—she didn’t know.

But through him, she learned that life wasn’t just about surviving. Every moment with him had been urgent, terrifying… and radiant.

She should have pursued her own happiness. Nothing more.

“I… why…”

Why had she tried to treat Clay’s death as just another inevitable event in the flow of history?

It had been a misjudgment. A delusion that it was her duty to prioritize the elves’ fate over her own feelings.

It was something she could never bear. To leave behind what he had given her—reduced to mere memory.

It was something she could never overcome. To continue on in a world without him.

“No excuses… I should’ve just… been honest. Let my feelings show. Burned away with him.”

Tap.

Something touched her fingers.

Slowly, she lifted her head.

A silhouette—faint in her blurred sight.

“Ah…”

Yelena clenched her teeth.

She pushed herself up with trembling arms, blood dripping freely from torn wounds. She ignored the pain and sat upright, though she couldn’t move any further.

Even so, she felt no regret for spending the last of her strength.

Because she knew where the World Tree had brought her.

“Clay…”

Clay was standing before her.

(End of Chapter)

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