MC's POV
The hammers were falling.
I did not look up. I did not need to.
Yuna told me everything with a shaking voice.
"Lord of Shadows, this is bad. This is very bad. We need to run. Use your portals. Right now."
'Yuna, calm down. First tell me how many hammers are falling.'
There were ten seconds left until the first one touched the ground, according to her.
I could feel it in my bones, the pressure in the air thickening, the domain itself bracing for impact.
I needed to count them properly.
I needed to assign targets and decide what I could and could not afford to lose.
"Nine, Lord of Shadows," Yuna said.
She swallowed.
"They are powerful."
Nine.
My thoughts accelerated.
Three would be aimed at the three groups of crewmates scattered around, searching for the lantern.
One would be coming for me. One for the inn girl.
That made five.
Two would be assigned to the Cursed Spirits from New Order.
They must have split to search for the lantern.
Seven.
One would be aimed at Saint Maverick.
And the last one…
"The temple," I muttered.
"Yes, one is going straight for the temple," Yuna said quietly.
If the temple was destroyed, no one would be able to perform the exorcism ritual.
If that happened, this entire operation would collapse.
The domain could not be exorcised.
The Cursed Spirit God in the sky would finish what it started.
Game over, in other words.
"Six seconds left," Yuna warned.
I clenched my jaw.
While counting hammers and targets again, there was one thing I noticed.
There was no hammer for the headless Valen.
"Saint Maverick's group must've found him," I said under my breath.
"Lord of Shadows, we need to move. You can dodge the hammer with portals. You can save yourself. So, please, move," Yuna said urgently,
She was correct.
I could save myself.
I could save others too.
Technically.
But the moment I used portals in front of them my identity would be exposed.
Alan Veritus would surface.
And once that happened, there would be no going back.
'No. I can't risk it.'
Saving everyone was impossible.
Not because I lacked the power, but because the cost was too high.
If I revealed who I was here, now, then everything I had built until this point would crumble.
Every future plan, every contingency, every hidden card would be stripped away.
They were not my family.
I had no obligation to sacrifice myself for them.
We had worked together to clear the domain, yes, but that did not make us comrades bound by blood or fate.
It was a transaction.
They helped me. I helped them.
That was the extent of it.
If I could save them without consequences, I would have.
But I would not throw away my only real trump card just to play the hero.
"Lord of Shadows," Yuna said again, her voice strained now, "hurry."
She did not ask me to save the others.
She understood.
She knew why I was so stubborn about protecting my identity.
It was my only trump card to face the dangers that would come in future.
This mask was my shield.
After finishing my calculations, five seconds remained.
I was about to open a portal toward the hill where the temple stood.
The same hill where one of the hammers was falling.
If nothing else, I had to make sure the temple survived.
That was when my communicator buzzed.
"Caelum, please confirm your coordinates," Saint Maverick's voice came through, clipped but steady.
"….What?"
"We will stop the hammers. Now. Location. There isn't enough time," he said.
My mind went into overdrive.
Stop them?
How?
There was no time to set up large-scale barriers.
No time to evacuate everyone manually.
And brute force would not be enough to deal with nine descending divine constructs.
Only a Rank 5 Exorcist might be—
'Did he manage to communicate with headless Valen?'
In this amount of time?
A short, disbelieving chuckle escaped me.
'Heroes really are different.'
He had done something impossible.
With a faint smile tugging at my lips, I spoke quickly.
"My location is near the eastern market, inside the forest strip behind the broken watchtower. Don't save me or the inn girl. Instead, save the Cursed Spirits from New Order. Don't worry about the temple either."
There was no time to explain.
He could already track most groups through drones. I had no drone since I told them to not send them with me.
With my location confirmed, process of elimination would tell him where the Cursed Spirits from New Order were.
"Understood," Saint Maverick said without hesitation.
He did not ask questions, or raise arguments.
This was no time for those things, he knew.
The line went dead.
Three seconds remained.
Above us, the sky groaned.
And then—
…
Saint Maverick's POV
Several minutes earlier.
Saint Maverick had been frozen in place.
The black humanoid silhouettes stood scattered across the market, their empty gazes turned outward.
As long as one of them looked at him, he could not move.
Then it happened.
The headless Valen moved.
The moment Valen was freed from the binding effect, he attacked without hesitation.
His body lunged forward, claws tearing through the nearest silhouette.
Judy reacted instantly, her systems flaring as she attempted to intervene.
They could not afford to let headless Valen attract attention and get frozen by the silhouettes.
She failed.
Just when Saint Maverick and Judy assumed Valen would be frozen again, caught by another gaze, something shocking happened.
Valen attacked again.
His movements were different.
The black silhouettes tried to look at him, but before their heads could fully turn, Valen was already gone.
He moved with terrifying speed, leaping out of their vision and striking from blind angles.
It was shocking.
Valen did not have a head.
He could not see. He could not think.
His body should have been nothing more than a rampaging corpse guided by residual instincts.
And yet, he was dodging gazes.
Without a brain, he should not have been able to understand the concept of line-of-sight attacks.
He should not have been able to reposition himself so precisely.
And yet, he did.
Saint Maverick realized, in that moment, that they had underestimated him.
Even without his head, Valen was still a Rank 5 Exorcist.
He was a terrifying existence that stood at the peak in the world of Exorcists.
Years of combat experience had been carved into his very soul.
Reflexes, danger responses, spatial awareness born from countless life-and-death battles did not vanish with the loss of flesh.
Simple instincts like avoiding lethal threats were not thoughts.
They were habits.
One by one, the black silhouettes were destroyed.
Valen stayed out of their vision every time, tearing them apart with ruthless efficiency.
The moment the last silhouette fell, the invisible pressure vanished.
Saint Maverick could move again.
He inhaled sharply and straightened, but there was no time to rest.
This was where the hard part began.
"Judy, from now on, we will suppress Vampire Prince Valen and attempt to connect with his soul. We need to communicate," he said, steadying his breathing.
Judy's eyes flickered with cold light.
"New directive received. Calculating outcome."
A brief pause.
"Probability of Vampire Prince resisting: forty percent. Probability of our destruction: sixty percent. Recommend retreat. Do we proceed?"
"Yes. He's injured and exhausted after fighting so much. This is our only chance."
"Updating parameters Risk accepted. Initiating solution-seeking protocol."
Valen snarled as they approached.
His movements slowed slightly, exhaustion finally catching up to him.
Dark energy bled from his wounds, staining the ground.
"Deploying suppression field. Energy output increased. Please maintain proximity," Judy announced. "
Saint Maverick raised his weapon and steadied his stance.
The fight began.
Valen lunged first.
There was no warning.
His movements were sharp, direct, and brutally efficient.
Blood surged around him in thick arcs, twisting and compressing into weapons mid-motion.
Saint Maverick did not flinch.
He was a mechanical human.
Valen's blood manipulation, which could cripple or outright kill most organic opponents, had little effect on him.
There was no bloodstream to seize, no flesh to rupture.
That advantage alone was the only reason he could stand his ground.
But advantage did not mean safety.
Valen was truly tired.
Anyone could see it.
Before this, he had fought ghouls, then Ghoul Valen, taken a Positive Energy bomb at point-blank range, and battled the shadowy silhouettes that froze anything caught in their gaze.
No Rank 5 Exorcist could go through all that and remain untouched.
Not with a missing head.
Still, exhaustion did not make him weak.
Saint Maverick and Judy were not in good condition either.
Their internal systems had been strained since the domain manifested, and every engagement chipped away at what little margin they had.
The only reason Saint Maverick had even entertained the idea of fighting Valen head-on was simple.
Headless Valen was acting on instincts.
He had grabbed Ghoul Valen earlier, even knowing both of them would be hit by a Positive Energy cannon at point-blank range.
That was not the act of a berserk monster.
That was the instinct of an Exorcist working with an ally to escape a domain.
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