Danmachi : Ashen Knight

Deep within the abandoned ruins beneath Orario, where the remnants of Evilus still festered in secrecy, a lone figure stood amidst the dim glow of violet flames. The air was thick with the scent of decay and something far more unnatural—an eerie, foreign presence that did not belong in this world.

Thanatos, the God of Death, sat leisurely upon a cracked stone throne, his smirk never wavering as he examined the tattered remnants of his plans. Though his forces had suffered a devastating loss, his amusement had not faded.

A dark sigil pulsed before him—a symbol unknown to this world but all too familiar to one particular adventurer. A crude, unnatural rune, shaped like a twisted amalgamation of bone and shadow, pulsed with an eerie glow.

He traced his fingers over the symbol with idle curiosity. "Fascinating, isn't it?"

From the darkness, a voice rasped, "Is this truly a power from another world, Lord Thanatos?"

The God of Death chuckled, reclining slightly. "That's what makes it so intriguing. Even I don't fully understand it." He lifted the sigil, watching as the light twisted in its dark reflection. "But I do know one thing—it is not of this world."

His gaze flickered with something dangerous—an amusement that bordered on madness.

"Imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon this… A mark of a place where gods do not descend, where death is the only certainty, and where adventurers fight not for glory, but merely to survive."

His subordinate hesitated. "You mean—?"

Thanatos smirked. "Yes. This symbol comes from another realm."

He leaned forward, his expression shifting to something unreadable. "And if this is here… it means the boundaries between worlds aren't as absolute as we once thought."

A hushed silence filled the chamber.

The implications were terrifying.

If something from another world had made its way here… what else could come through?

Thanatos laughed. "Orcbolg… He recognized this mark. That means he's connected to it. A survivor of that place, perhaps? Or an anomaly?"

His eyes gleamed. "Either way, I must know more."

The violet flames burned brighter, casting twisted shadows across the walls.

Though Evilus had suffered a loss today, the game was far from over.

And Thanatos had just found a far more interesting mystery to unravel.

In the dungeon

The battlefield had finally gone silent.

The remnants of the Evilus hideout were now nothing but ruins, scorched stone and shattered debris scattered across the cavern floor. The air was thick with the stench of burned flesh and blood, the aftereffects of Riveria's magic still lingering in the air.

The core of the monster had been destroyed. The battle was over.

Yet, even as victory settled in, the adventurers stood still, their bodies heavy with exhaustion.

Ais, Orcbolg, and Ryu Lion remained near the fallen remains of their enemy, their weapons still gripped tightly in their hands.

Orcbolg exhaled slowly, his grip on his sword loosening. His armor was dented and stained with monster blood, his cloak torn at the edges. Beneath his helmet, his breathing was steady, but his body ached from the battle.

Ais stood nearby, her golden eyes fixed on the remains of the monster. Her sword, Desperate, was still in her hands, coated in the remnants of the final blow she had delivered. Despite her usual unreadable expression, there was a subtle weight in her gaze—one of deep thought.

Ryu, on the other hand, was quieter than usual. She had fought fiercely, her movements swift and precise, but now she was standing still, gripping the hilt of her saber tightly. Her hooded disguise had long since been discarded in the heat of battle, revealing her unmistakable emerald eyes and sharp elven features.

The three of them, for a moment, simply existed in the silence, breathing in the weight of their victory.

Then, it was Ais who spoke first.

"...We won."

Her voice was soft, yet firm. A simple statement, yet it carried with it the weight of everything they had just endured.

Orcbolg gave a slow nod. "For now." His voice was rough, yet unwavering. "But there will always be more."

Ryu glanced at him, her gaze unreadable. "You always speak as if another battle is just around the corner."

Orcbolg turned his head slightly, looking at her through his helmet. "Because it is."

Ais, who had been staring at the ground, lifted her gaze. "You're always… prepared."

Orcbolg said nothing for a moment, then muttered, "That's how I've survived."

Ryu studied him closely. She had fought beside him twice now. She had seen his brutal efficiency, his unyielding focus on survival, and his ability to strategize even in the heat of battle. Yet, she had also seen something else.

Something familiar.

She took a slow breath, closing her eyes for a moment before speaking. "You remind me of someone I once knew. Though both of you has different personality"

Orcbolg didn't respond right away. Instead, he sheathed his sword and adjusted his armor. "Did they survive?"

Ryu opened her eyes, looking at him with quiet intensity. "No."

Silence settled between them.

Orcbolg didn't press further, but there was something in the way he stood—something that suggested he understood without words.

The three of them walked together toward the rest of the adventurers, the tension from battle slowly easing away. The fighting was over, but something had changed between them.

They had fought together, bled together, and survived together.

Ais, Orcbolg, and Ryu—three warriors bound by battle, by loss, and by the unspoken understanding that only those who had truly fought could share.

And in that moment, as they walked side by side, there was no need for words.

They simply understood.