Deep inside the Void Dimension, the Void Architect appeared far more agitated than before. His body, formed from endless masses of blood-red and black ink-like energy, churned violently through the darkness.

Vast portions of his existence twisted and folded into themselves before unraveling again. The movement never stopped. Every second, the enormous mass shifted faster as frustration and unrest spread throughout his being.

It was because the Void Architect found himself facing a situation he had not fully anticipated.

His plan had not failed yet. Not completely. But the Dragonborn had proven far more troublesome than expected.

The portals he opened and creatures he unleashed across the Five Kingdoms had been meant to create leverage. Every battlefield was supposed to generate fear, despair, and hopelessness. Every fallen city would have provided him with more energy. Every death would have pushed his manifestation closer to completion.

Instead, the Dragonborn had arrived and closed the portals at a speed that even he had not predicted.

One kingdom after another stabilized. One battlefield after another recovered.

The momentum he had carefully built began slipping away from him.

The Void Architect had already gathered a substantial amount of negative energy from the suffering of humanity. His original intention had been simple.

Once enough despair accumulated, he would use that energy to manifest himself directly into the world. At that point, everything would become much easier. He could personally seize the Creation that had escaped him.

He could personally destroy any resistance. He could personally finish what should have been completed long ago.

But the energy was still insufficient. It was close but it was not enough. And now time had run out.

The opportunity to continue gathering that energy was rapidly disappearing.

That reality made him increasingly restless.

Deep within the darkness of the Void Dimension, countless crimson eyes opened and closed across his shifting body while a troubling thought continued resurfacing inside his mind.

Should he call that being?

The possibility irritated him.

Doing so would solve many problems. But it would create others.

If he asked for assistance, a debt would be formed. And debts among beings like them were never small.

Across the infinite cosmos existed countless worlds beyond mortal comprehension. The scale of existence was so vast that entire universes could remain forever isolated from one another. Within that immeasurable expanse lived entities whose power exceeded anything ordinary beings could ever understand.

The Void Architect was merely one among many such existences.

Once, he had stood among them proudly.

Once, he possessed authority vast enough to shape realities and manipulate worlds with ease.

But that was before his war against the Creator of the System.

That conflict had reduced him drastically.

His true body had been destroyed. His authority shattered. His power fragmented.

Now he existed only as this distorted mass of crimson and black energy hidden within his personal Void Dimension.

A shadow of what he once had been. Without his original strength, even reclaiming his own Creation had required endless planning and manipulation. And even then, the plan had been disrupted repeatedly.

By the Dragonborn. Especially that former human named Erend Drake.

The Void Architect hated him more than any other.

After gifting the System to Erend, the Creator had vanished completely. The Void Architect still did not know whether Erend was the final bearer of that power or whether other holders existed somewhere throughout the infinite cosmos.

What he did know was that Erend's growth had become absurd.

The Dragonborn had repeatedly solved crises across multiple worlds.

He had destroyed creatures from the Chaos World as well.

He had overcome enemies that should have killed him. And worst of all, his strength continued increasing. It felt limitless.

Given enough time, Erend Drake could become something even the Void Architect would struggle to confront.

That possibility alone filled him with fury. The crimson and black mass churned faster.

The darkness surrounding him trembled.

Then finally, after long consideration, he reached a decision. He would call upon that being.

The debt could be dealt with later. For now, his success mattered more.

—

Erend arrived in Leonora once again.

The initial battle had ended hours ago, but its scars remained visible everywhere.

The streets were filled with the aftermath of war. Corpses covered large sections of the city. Many belonged to the invading creatures while others belonged to defenders who had fought until the very end. Even civilians were among the dead.

As Erend moved through the recovering capital, he noticed something encouraging despite the devastation.

The casualties among the defenders and civilians were lower than the number of slain creatures. But the losses remained severe. Every death mattered and every life lost represented a tragedy.

But Leonora had survived. That fact was remarkable.

The kingdom should have fallen. Instead, it endured.

But, there was little time to mourn.nThe atmosphere throughout the city felt strange.

People were rebuilding. People were helping the wounded. They were recovering. Yet beneath it all lingered a shared understanding.

The disaster was not over. Everyone could feel it. The danger remained.

Erend eventually landed atop a large building overlooking the city.

King Garrie stood there already.

The ruler of Leonora watched evacuation efforts below while officials and soldiers carried out countless tasks throughout the capital.

His expression remained stern. But Erend could see beyond that.

The king carried grief, loss, and exhaustion.

When king Garrie noticed Erend approaching, he immediately turned with visible alertness. His hand even moved slightly toward his weapon before he recognized who had arrived.

The tension faded.

"Did you just visit Velrion?" Garrie asked.

"Yes," Erend replied. "He's still working."

The king looked toward the palace.n"Hopefully everything proceeds smoothly."

The words carried little confidence. King Garrie sounded completely drained.

He no longer spoke like a king preparing his next strategy or like a ruler determined to fight. The invasion had shown him just how vulnerable his kingdom truly was.

After a brief silence, Erend spoke. "I'm sorry."

Garrie turned toward him immediately. "What do you mean?"

Erend stared toward the recovering city below.

"We arrived too late. We prioritized recovering the fragments. Even knowing the capital was likely under attack, we continued the expedition instead of returning immediately."

King Garrie released a slow breath. "You made the correct decision."

Erend remained silent.

The king continued. "Considering the situation, there wasn't another choice. If the fragments weren't recovered, then none of this would matter anyway."

His gaze moved across the city and said, "The people who died... their deaths aren't your fault." Then he looked directly at Erend. "The Dragonborn have already done more than anyone could reasonably ask. You saved this kingdom. You saved all five kingdoms. So don't apologize for making the decision that needed to be made."

Erend nodded. "Thank you for your understanding."

Garrie simply nodded in return. Neither of them smiled.

A few minutes later, several familiar presences approached.

Eccar arrived first. Aesa followed shortly afterward. Then Sylven landed beside them.

The four Dragonborn had finished visiting the remaining kingdoms and personally informed every Archmage about the urgency of completing the formula.

"They're almost ready," Eccar said immediately.

Erend nodded. "That's good."

The conversation ended there.

The four Dragonborn stood together overlooking Leonora while workers continued rebuilding below.

Erend's gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon. His expression never relaxed.

—