Whoosh!

Another attack came screaming through the darkness—this time, aimed straight at Ethan.

It was fast. Precise. Brutal.

Whoever this mysterious enemy was, they'd clearly sized up the trio and decided Ethan was the weak link. After all, Elira and Ataneya were both unmistakably Tier 15. Their power radiated off them like a furnace. Ethan, on the other hand, had kept his energy suppressed, his presence low-key.

To the enemy, he probably looked like the softest target.

Big mistake.

Because neither Elira nor Ataneya were about to let that slide.

"Foxfire Burst!"

"Shadow Rend!"

In a flash, both women launched their counterattacks. Elira's wings flared open, unleashing a barrage of searing blue flame, while Ataneya's shadowy energy twisted into a blade and slashed through the air like a guillotine.

BOOM!

The two attacks collided with the incoming force, not only neutralizing it but blasting the enemy backward. The mysterious figure was sent flying, crashing hard into the abyss wall with a thunderous impact that cracked the stone.

But then—

The enemy's expression shifted.

His eyes locked onto Elira, and for the first time, real fear flickered across his face.

"Skytear Demon Moth…?" he muttered, stunned. "That's impossible. Your kind… your entire race was wiped out. How are you still alive? How are you even—"

He trailed off, disbelief etched into every word.

Ethan blinked, then immediately pieced it together.

"Oh… so that's what this is."

It all clicked.

This wasn't just some random encounter. This wasn't just another Tier 15 guardian.

This was connected to Elira.

To her bloodline.

To her past.

"Looks like this Nethora world has a deeper link to your race than we thought," Ethan said, glancing at her. "This isn't just a coincidence."

Elira's eyes narrowed. "How do you know about the Skytear Demon Moth?"

The enemy hesitated, then let out a bitter, mocking laugh. "So you really don't remember anything… You've forgotten your people's glory. Their power. Their vengeance."

He sneered. "But I guess it doesn't matter. That was a long time ago. And with your current strength, you'll never be able to avenge them anyway."

That hit a nerve.

Ethan and Elira exchanged a look—both of them clearly thinking the same thing.

This guy had no idea who he was talking to.

Elira stepped forward, her voice cold and sharp. "You seem to know a lot. So start talking. Now."

The enemy smirked. "You want answers? Too bad. You'll be disappointed. I'm not telling you a damn thing."

He didn't even finish the sentence before Elira moved.

"Dark Devour."

BOOOOM!

A wave of pure, devouring energy surged from her wings, crashing toward him like a tidal wave of darkness. Her expression didn't change—calm, cold, merciless.

"You don't want to talk?" she said flatly. "Then die. Dead men don't lie, but at least they shut up."

"You—!" the enemy's face twisted in panic. He tried to retreat, but it was already too late.

Ataneya was there in an instant, cutting off his escape with a wall of shadow.

"Trying to run now?" she said, her voice like ice. "Bit late for that, don't you think?"

Even though he was Tier 15, he was outmatched.

Elira and Ataneya weren't just Tier 15—they were refined. Sharpened. Evolved.

Even one-on-one, either of them could probably take him.

But two-on-one?

He didn't stand a chance.

And he knew it.

And then—Ethan saw it.

His eyes narrowed sharply as something caught his attention: a pendant hanging from the enemy's neck. It was subtle, half-hidden beneath his tattered cloak, but unmistakable once you noticed it.

The design etched into the pendant's surface…

It was nearly identical to the markings on Elira's wings.

Not just similar—identical. Like they'd been carved from the same mold.

Ethan's mind raced. That couldn't be a coincidence.

"Elira! Ataneya!" he shouted, voice cutting through the chaos. "That necklace—there's something about it! Grab it!"

The moment the words left his mouth, both Elira and the enemy froze for a split second.

"You—!" the enemy snarled, eyes wide with panic.

Too late.

Whoosh!

Space twisted, and Elira vanished in a blur of motion. She reappeared right in front of him, her fist already cocked back—and then slammed it into his shoulder with a bone-crunching impact.

CRACK!

The enemy staggered back, cursing through gritted teeth. "You bastards! Don't push your luck!"

But Elira and Ataneya weren't interested in his whining. They pressed the attack, relentless and precise. The longer the fight dragged on, the more obvious it became—he was losing ground. Fast.

And then the pendant began to glow.

Faint at first, then brighter—pulsing in rhythm with Elira's energy. It was reacting to her. Resonating.

The connection between them was undeniable.

HUMMMMM…

Suddenly, the pendant cracked.

A blinding light burst from within, shooting straight toward Elira. The glow wrapped around her, merging with the energy already radiating from her wings. The two forces intertwined, fusing like they were always meant to be one.

"No!" the enemy screamed, his face twisting in rage and disbelief. "You can't—!"

But it was already happening.

The light condensed into a single orb, then shot into Elira's chest—merging with her completely.

And then—

BOOM.

A wave of strange, ancient energy rippled outward, wrapping around Elira like a cocoon. Her body glowed with a radiant aura, and her eyes widened as something else began to stir inside her.

Memories.

Fragments.

Pieces of a forgotten past.

Whoosh… whoosh… whoosh…

Dozens of glowing memory shards floated into the air around her, suspended in the space between them. They shimmered like glass, each one playing out a different scene—like windows into another time.

And they weren't just visible to Elira.

Ethan and Ataneya could see them too.

They watched in stunned silence as the truth unfolded before them.

The Skytear Demon Moth race… had once ruled everything.

Not just Nethora.

Not just the Graveyard of Legends.

Even the Citadel of Shadows—Elira's supposed origin world—had once been part of their dominion.

They were titans. A race of unmatched power, feared and revered across dimensions.

But like all empires that grow too vast, too fast… they collapsed.

Their strength became their weakness. Their dominance bred enemies. And eventually, they fell—hard.

Elira wasn't just a survivor.

She was a descendant of that fallen dynasty.

And the pendant?

It had been one of their sacred relics—lost, scattered, forgotten.

Until now.

And now that it had returned to its rightful heir, the enemy who wore it…

Collapsed.

His body sagged, knees buckling as the energy drained from him like water from a cracked vessel. The aura that had once marked him as a Tier 15 powerhouse flickered—then dimmed.

His power was cut in half.

...